#well except maybe the last gif has something to do with it

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Collars Of Duty 4

MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader

- Chapter 3 - (Chapter 5)

Simon's gone and you're left to deal with his sudden absence. But maybe it's not all over yet.

~ 8,3k Words

Content (might contain spoilers): reader being mean to themselves in their thoughts, hybrid AU, mention of past injury, hints at past attack, mentions of therapy, biting, blood

A.N: I messed with the COD timeline here. I know that some of the things I mention don't happen during this time and don't fit with the canon but it's my AU so shush. Curious if you lot catch the cameo. Have fun. Also not my best chapter but I poured a lot of heart, time and effort into it.

It’s been almost a week since Simon’s transport back to England. A week that you’ve spent at home again. The day you arrived at work to find Simon gone you went back to medical leave. Now as you sit on your couch and look out through your living room window you wonder if that was the best decision.

Simon’s sudden absence left you hollower than you anticipated. You spent barely a week by his side, most of which he was unconscious. So how come you care so damn much already?

You go through your usual routine. Making food, going outside, meeting friends, attending therapy, working on your mind and body. You do everything you did the past few weeks that helped you get back to your feet after Phillip but the worry for Simon won’t fade. It’s always there in the back of your head, a nagging feeling that leaves you thinking about him way more than you probably should.

Is he okay? Are they taking good care of him? Do they take it slow and take his trauma and needs into consideration? Does he have a handler that knows how to help him? How are his wounds?

You feel silly for caring so much about the large hybrid but another pitiful part of you whispers that it might prove that you’re a good person. Caring so much about someone you barely know surely proves that you have a good heart.

Then there’s another part that admonishes you for thinking that. No truly good person would think about whether their actions or thoughts make them a good person and you grow ashamed again. You try to shove all those thoughts somewhere in a corner of your mind where you don’t have to hear them constantly. The back and forth driving you insane without coming up with any conclusive answer.

You worry about him. That’s how it is. You care There is nothing you can do to change that except try not to think about him so much. But honestly you don’t want to stop thinking about him. Something about Simon struck your heart and you feel the need to figure out what.

You sigh as you nurse your mug with your favourite hot beverage in it, taking another slow sip savoring the taste. Has Simon ever had a drink like this? You sigh. Here you go again, thinking about the malinois hybrid without pause.

You let your head fall back against the backrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling. When did your home start feeling more like a self inflicted prison? There’s a restlessness growing in you. It’s starting deep in your stomach and spreads its way through your limbs making you bounce your knee until you almost spill your drink jerking your head back up to safe it at the last second.

Why did you go back to medical leave? You had been more than willing to return for Simon’s case. But as soon as he left you went back home like a snail hiding in it’s shell. You rest your elbows on your knees and let your head hang forward the muscles of your neck stretching uncomfortably.

You’re a damn coward. Resting at home. It doesn’t feel like healing anymore it feels like you’re running away. Running from the center and all the hybrids it houses. You hate it, hate Phillip for ruining all dog hybrids with just one attack. Why does he have the power to make you afraid of all of them. It’s not fair.

Do the others think you’re a coward as well? Hiding at home again after you came back for a week. What is management thinking? That you could return for an emergency but not for the relative calmness of every day? What will happen if you don’t come back quick enough for them? Will you lose your job? Would they actually fire you over something like this?

Just like that sitting at home feels like wasted time. Every minute spent on your couch is a minute you could be working and trying to get over your fear. And suddenly your certain that you have to return to work if you want to make further progress.

Additionally to your sudden urgency to just do something instead of sitting at home and licking your wounds the thought of everyone secretly judging your return to absence makes you feel itchy. But it’s your own judgment makes you the most uncomfortable. You can’t escape your own thoughts that remind you how cowardly you’re behaving. How you’re wasting away thinking about a hybrid who never even was your charge.

Thinking about a hybrid who you foolishly put a lot of hope into.

It makes no logical sense that you feel like Simon was your way back to working with hybrids. You had been sure that working with a problem hybrid would be the worst thing that could happen to you. You had been sure it would make you feel worse and undo everything you’ve achieved in therapy so far.

Now it feels like anyone other than the problem hybrid will hinder your recovery.

For a moment you feel selfish for wanting to gain something out of helping a hybrid. How can you think like that? Even if working with one stops your progress it would be worth it if you could help them. It’s not their job to help you. You’re supposed to help them, that’s what you’re being paid for, dammit. Helping them without gaining anything should be all you want.

Still it would be the best case scenario if working with one would also allow you to slowly get used to them again. It would be nice if the hybrid could help you too. And you decide that you can allow yourself that little bit of selfishness.

But even if that best case scenario were to happen. Before you can get anyone elses help you’ll have to want to help yourself.

The days of peacefully sitting on your couch letting the world outside continue to turn while you exist in your own little reality that consists of your home and the doctors office are over. You’ve had enough time off. It’s time to return to work. If you don’t your own thoughts that continue to run in circles will drive you insane.

No matter how often you dissect what happened with Phillip it won’t change what happened and maybe it’s time to accept that.

It’s probably best if you go back to the center today, before you lose your drive. And what better way to return than just going for lunch. Nice and casual. Nothing scary. At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of as your palms immediately begin getting sweaty.

It’s tiring always being scared and even if it scares you more to go back, at least you’re doing something. You can’t take another second of sitting at home waiting to feel better while doing nothing.

A sudden burst of energy has you rushing all over your home while you get ready and sprint out of your front door before your nerves catch up to you.

You try your hardest not to second guess yourself as your unsteady hands hold the access card against the entrance of the compound. It opens with a beep and you rush through. When you stand in front of the main building you freeze. Your hands are shaking and you will yourself to breathe deeply.

There will be a lot of hybrids at the cafeteria, and suddenly your feet wont take another step. Flashes of teeth, dripping with vicious saliva, snapping and tearing at you appear in your mind. You’re certain that there’s an aggressive hybrid growling behind you but when you turn there’s no one there. Wincing you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make you feel some semblance of safety.

You’ve already managed to come here and turning around to go back home feels like defeat. You can already taste it’s bitter tang just from thinking about not going through with your plan. For a moment you chew on your lower lip, indecisive then you look up at the building. Liz should be working right now. Maybe she’s willing to have her break with you.

Taking two steps at once, you rush up the stairs hoping you don’t meet anyone, especially no hybrid before you reach Liz’ office. Your heart pumps hectically while you strain your ears to make sure you’ll hear approaching steps over your harsh breathing. You’re lucky, getting there without running into anyone and you quickly slip inside without knocking.

Your heart swells at the way Liz positively beams at your appearance. It should not surprise you as much as it does when she immediately takes her break so she can go to the cafeteria with you. The way she links her arm with yours is so easy and natural that it makes you gulp suppressing the strong urge to hide behind her.

You grow more and more tense the closer you get to the cafeteria. Liz chattering fading to the background even if it’s her attempt to distract you. There are two hybrids and their handlers joining your direction. Luckily they’re concentrated on their handlers and the promise of food after training. The two of them don’t even give you any attention besides a quick glance.

When you realize that they won’t attack, you relax minutely. Everything is okay, you’re okay. The hybrids at the center are all friendly. Usually.

Aggressive Hybrids are very rare and they’re usually kept on leash. There’s various reasons why a handler might decide to keep their charge on a leash and none of the handlers here would let an aggressive hybrid roam free.

You almost manage to gain some control over your fear until you hear a sudden bark behind you. It’s loud and startling and you can feel your heart jump painfully in your chest.

You rip your arm away from Liz, whipping around. Fear clogs your throat and you can feel your eyes watering in sheer panic.

A golden retriever hybrid is running at you his steps slightly uneven. Where his left leg should be is a prosthetic attached but it does nothing to slow him down. His handler is further down the hallway and from the leash that loosely hangs from the hybrids collar it’s evident that he ripped himself free from his handlers hold.

His ears are perked up and flop with every step, his face lit up with obvious joy but it doesn’t help the terror that floods through you at the sight of him running at you. A very faint voice reminds you that you know this hybrid and he wouldn’t hurt you, but that voice is easily silence by the dread that overpowers everything.

He stretches his arms out to the side and Liz takes a step forward.

Before he reaches you, or Liz can step into his way you thrust out your hand out in front of yourself in sheer desperation.

“STOP!”

Alex skids to a halt like he just ran against a wall, having to shift his weight so he doesn’t fall. The prosthetic makes an awful screeching noise as it scrapes over the floor. His ears droop and his tail halts mid wag, uncertain what just happened. You’d feel bad at the obvious hurt in his expression if you weren’t so desperately harnessing your fear to shove it back into the dark corner it crawled from.

Panic squeezes your lungs and denies you access to your own breaths. You think you hear Liz tell Alex’ handler to wait when he goes to grab Alex’ leash but you concentrate on regulating your wheezing breaths, your hand still outstretched to halt Alex.

The golden hybrid looks at you and takes a few small steps on the spot he’s glued to. His nostrils flare and he cocks his head at you.

“You’re afraid of me?” He half asks half states and the devastation in his voice rips your heart right in two. A whine makes its way from his chest and you shake your head. You panic retreating at the need to reassure and calm the hybrid. He did nothing wrong and here you are, hurting him by panicking.

“No! I’m not scared of you.” You say even if you’re not sure whether that’s true. But you need to say something, anything to stop the hurt in his eyes. He cocks his head at you in question.

“Just got spooked from the way your ran at me.”

He visibly perks back up at that, his tail slowly starting to wag again even if it’s decidedly less enthusiastic than before. Then it slowly gains momentum, getting quicker and stronger until his entire body wriggles with his joy and the sight steals a small smile from you.

“I only wanted to hug you. I haven’t seen you in forever. I promise I won’t rush. May I hug you?” He asks with so much hope in his voice that you can’t say no.

Briefly you scan his body language, finding nothing but excitement and restraint so you nod even if the way your blood rushes through you is almost painful.

Alex stays true to his word, slowly steps forward, opening his arms for you and waits until you mirror the gesture. Then he wraps his bulky frame around you, squeezing you to his chest. Immediately he pushes his face against you and takes a deep breath, smelling you. His mustache tickles you and you squirm giggling inadvertently.

He rumbles deep in his chest, huffs in displeasure at your movements which only makes you giggle and squirm more. Your fear slowly retracts its claws from your chest, hissing in displeasure at your entire being remembering Alex as safe.

You can feel him relax right along with you. Until all that is left is warmth and contentment. The close contact to him after weeks of staying away as far as possible from any and all hybrids fills your chest with warmth choking you up slightly. After you allow yourself to bask in his hug for as long as you deem acceptable and after you swallow your tears back down, you step back and shake your head at him fondly.

“You know that this is exactly why you’re still on leash. Always so easily distracted rushing off to investigate whatever scent you caught. Although I’m honored I’m the distraction this time.”

He folds his ears back and the chuckle of his handler reminds you of his and Liz presence. The man, Chad, steps forward and gently cuffs the back of Alex head. The hybrid playfully snaps in the direction of his fingers. You nearly flinch until you remind yourself that this is Alex and he’s just playing.

“Lucky for him we’re not training right now and you’re a very special distraction. It’s good to see you again.”

You remember the day you left Alex as his charge, a mixture of pride and pain in your chest. You’d worked months with Alex after he lost his leg in an explosion during a mission. You’d helped him regain his agility and confidence and it was only normal that you developed a deep bond with the hybrid.

It was always a happy occasion when a hybrid got to go back to having a work handler and you shake Chads outstretched hand with a warm smile. As you make your way into the cafeteria you try to concentrate on Alex and his handler, who’s taken his leash in hand again.

“We get to go back to the real work next week.” Alex tells you puffing his chest and pride blooms in your own chest. You know how much his work means to him and it will be great to see him leave the center after a year and a half of working hard to get back in shape. Still the thought stings a little.

You’ll miss him. He’s been one of your favorite charges and even after you left him in Chad’s capable hands - so they could work and train to become a team while Alex fully regained his abilities - it was nice to meet him in the hallways and outside on the training grounds.

You try to concentrate on the joy instead. He’ll get to go back to doing what he loves and you wonder when you’ll be able to do the same. With the way you currently need to check every hybrid around you for any sign of aggression you don’t see any possibility of you taking on a new charge soon.

With Simon it had been easy. He’d been an emergency which left not enough time to think, to doubt, to get lost in your fear. Now that he’s gone you have too much time to cook up all the worst case scenarios in your head again.

While you try to have lunch without always looking around like a spooked rabbit you get to watch Chad and Alex interact and their easy camaraderie and banter makes you jealous. It makes you overly aware of the fact that you’re unable to interact with a hybrid like that at the moment.

But you love this job. You love working with them and helping them and developing all these bonds. Harshly you stab your fork into the food. Even if it takes forever, you will be able to do it again.

As if to mock you the scar on your shoulder throbs at the aggressive movement and you subconsciously reach up, pressing against it. Alex turns his head towards you from his place besides you. You give him a small tight lipped smile.

He says nothing, but under the table he moves his leg until his thigh touches you and you stare down at the contact.

The next day you join Alex and Chad while training at their insistence the day before. They’re all too eager to show off their hard work to you and it’s almost mesmerizing the way they clear the obstacle course together.

The centers agility course is a jungle of platforms that are raised over the ground with obstacles in between. The platforms vary from the size of your hand to a square meter and some are slanted to test the balance.

They can be roughly divided into two heights one being a few centimeters above the ground while the second level is mostly at two meters with platforms of varying heights in between. There is no designated path through the course which allows a handler to challenge a hybrid with new angles at already well known obstacles.

The slight tugs Chad gives on the leash help Alex to find the right footing while he concentrates on sniffing out the hidden object. You.

You’re crouched behind an obstacle that’s on the second level, keeping out of sight. You peek at the pair of them moving through the course stopping at a point where you doubled back to confuse Alex.

The single minded focus of the hybrid is admirable but also dangerous out in the field. In the field concentrating on nothing besides what he’s supposed to sniff out means running into the line of fire, stepping onto a contact mine or whatever other horrible things wait for them in the field. That is why he’s connected to Chad with the leash.

You almost shout a warning, your heart leaping into your throat, when Alex lifts his head to track your scent not watching the small platforms under his feet. You can already see his foot miss the next platform but Chad gives a gentle tug and Alex rights his direction without looking down.

His foot finds the platform and you exhale heavily with relief. You can only continue watching in awe. You’d known that Chad was a good handler. While working with Philip you had often seen the two of them train but you always had your own hybrid to concentrate on so you never got to appreciate the incredible team these two make.

Alex finds you easily while Chad watches over him, clearing his path, making sure he doesn’t get hurt while he concentrates on his work and when Alex finds you in record time, you can’t help but clap and holler in excitement.

Chad ruffles Alex hair and the golden retriever hybrid beams with pride. His tail wags a mile a minute and when you’re all back down on the ground he does a few silly circles on the spot giving an excited bark which makes Chad laugh.

A deep feeling of peace settles over you. This is what it’s supposed to be like. A soft smile sneaks onto your lips. Watching Chad and Alex is weirdly healing, reminding you of what a healthy hybrid handler relationship looks like. You have been able to build one with every charge you’ve had besides Phillip. And with him it wasn’t because you didn’t try.

For the first time fear isn’t the first emotion bubbling up when you think about Phillip. This time it’s sadness. In his chase for his independence he sold his soul to someone else. But you don’t think that the proud hybrid realized that. He probably didn’t realize that the gesture of attacking you was empty considering the reasons for it. It proved jack shit. But hey at least he got what he wanted in the end.

Even that thought doesn’t chase the sadness away. So you concentrate back on Chad and Alex and you realize you’re a little less frustrated with yourself when you go to bed that evening. You got to work with a hybrid again and it had went well. Things will get better after all.

After the day you spent with Alex you come back to work for good. You do not have your own charge at the moment but you try to be useful in every way you can. Instead of working with a hybrid you start helping with the equipment, running errands and giving the other handlers advice that you feel not qualified to give considering how long you’ve been absent and the reason for your absence.

The way you try to avoid running into hybrids makes you feel ashamed of yourself once more but you don’t have it in you to just casually cross paths with them. It’s so stupid, the way one hybrid ruined every hybrid for you. You’re determined to change that, to not see a threat in every hybrid but maybe… maybe not today.

You duck around the corner as you spot a hybrid walking down the hallway with her handler and press yourself against the wall counting down from ten to calm yourself. It’s frustrating as hell that interacting with Alex didn’t magically heal you.

Why could one hybrid not heal the wounds of one other hybrid? Your pulse still jumps at every hybrid you see. You still try to hide instead of normally passing them. And you grow frustrated with yourself. Healing sucks. It’s hard to understand why books and movies always seem to picture it as this magical beautiful journey when most of the time it feels like running in circles and standing in your own way.

How would things be if Simon was still here? Would you walk the hallways unafraid with his large form looming next to you? Maybe if he’d become your charge you would feel better already.

You shake your head. Thinking about that doesn’t help you, you try to remind yourself. Simon’s in England and there isn’t anything you can do.

You peek around the corner, seeing that the hybrid is gone you continue on your way, glad that the tiles help you hear when someone’s approaching. You look at the stack of papers in your arms and almost scoff at yourself. Running errands instead of doing what you actually get paid for.

But with Simon gone you don’t know how you’re supposed to jump into the deep end and take the position as a handler again.

You should have known. You should have known it would come back to bite you in the ass that you didn’t sign the handler agreement. Maybe with that you could have been transferred with Simon and stayed by his side for the time it will take for him to be able to go back to active duty.

Apparently the Doc had asked for the papers that prove that Simon is your charge so she could have you called to the center before he left. When she called the office they had to tell her that no such papers were signed.

You’re lucky that the Doc hasn’t told anyone that you lied to gain access to his medical report. At least you don’t think she has or someone would have approached you about it by now. It still might happen and you’re unsure whether you should talk to her about it before you possibly get a lawsuit.

Thinking about that does nothing to calm your racing heart and you almost flee inside Liz’ office when it comes into view as if her presence will shield you from your own thoughts and feelings as well.

You drop the stack of papers on her desk and she sighs, pushing up her glasses and meets you eyes.

“I should probably thank you but honestly, how dare you bring this to me instead of accidentally spilling coffee all over them.”

Hearing Liz who enjoys the office work say something like that startles a laugh out of you and she grins.

“One of those days?” You ask and she nods, stretches her arms over her head and groans when her back audibly pops.

She takes her smoothie and slurps it through her straw. “You know I looked into it for you. But there is no way for us to obtain any information on Simon’s well being. I’m sorry.”

You plop down into the empty chair before her desk and crane your neck until you’re staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. I already expected that. If only I had signed those damned papers.”

You catch Liz shrug out of your peripheral vision. “Well with the English laws being the way they are it’s not certain that would have done anything either.”

Lazily you let your head roll forward. “Hm?”

“Ah, right. You only do the hands on work. The hybrid-handler laws in England demand the hybrid to sign an agreement too for the handler-hybrid relationship to have legal effect. So your signature alone would probably not give you any information on him anyway.”

“Oh.” You think about it. You know the English laws are different but you never looked into it since they don’t concern you, at least they never did until now. Either way you will never know what’s become of Simon and it frustrates you.

“Well, it is what it is.” You say resigned and put your hands on your knees to push yourself up. If only you could mean that. “Back to running errands I go.”

Before you can leave the room Liz’ voice stops you. “You have to take on a charge again at some point.”

You half turn to her smiling, even though you don’t feel like smiling at all. “Exactly. ‘At some point.’ That point is not now. It’s barely been a few days of me being back.”

She shakes her head at you and you’d be embarrassed or angry at her disappointed expression but you know it’s because she cares. “Why are you so damn hesitant? You were fully ready to take Simon as charge?”

You purse your lips in thought, turning to her fully. “With him it was easy. I didn’t have time to imagine all the things that could go wrong. Just ‘bam here’s this hybrid you have to take care of’. Now that he’s gone I have too much time to think about what it means to take on a new charge.”

Liz clicks her tongue. “Maybe I’ll just drop a hybrid at your doorstep so you don’t have time to think.”

You gasp in mock offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” She says dryly and you’re not sure if she’s still joking. So you laugh it off while fleeing her office before she decides to make any more valid points.

That better have been a joke or you’d strangle her. And then thank her because thinking about it - dropping a hybrid at your doorstep might actually work. Your close the door, turn to walk back down the hallway and almost walk into Meg from HR.

“Oh good. I was looking for you.”

You gulp. Oh no. Did the Doc rat you out after all? Would they fire you? Shit. You rub your palms against your pants. Did you do anything wrong? What if she knows you lied to get the Doc to talk about Simon? Would they file a lawsuit because of something like that?

“Follow me.” She says curtly and you nod, too startled and scared to get a simple yes out. Walking behind her through the hallway makes you feel like you’re walking to your own execution and you thank whoever is listening that you don’t run into any hybrids. You’re not sure your heart could handle any more anxiety.

The clicking of her door closing while she indicates for you to sit down at her desk sounds like a threat and when you sit you rub your sweaty palms against your thighs.

She sits down on her side of the desk and clicks something on her computer then she looks at you seriously and you feel like you’ll be in serious trouble in a few second. Hopefully you won’t cry, that would be embarrassing.

She sighs. “Do you remember the aggressive hybrid you were called in for from your leave?”

You nod and this time you manage to weakly say: “Yes.” Oh no. Oh no no no no. Pleas no.

She taps a pen against her chin and studies you. “You know we really hoped you could take another charge soon so management isn’t the happiest about it but we were promised a substitute and compensation so we decided to leave it up to you.”

Is she doing this on purpose? Dragging it out? What substitute? What the hell is going on?

“We got a request for you from the center in England he is currently at. They want you to work there with him for however long it takes to get him back on his feet. You’re one of our best even if you’re currently not exactly fitting your job description. I heard you got along well with him.” Something in her gaze softens at her last statement and you release your held breath a heavy weight dropping off your shoulders.

She doesn’t know about the papers. It feels like your heart can finally get a break. But then everything she said hits you and you start nervously bouncing your leg. They requested you? You’re sure they have more than enough handlers at the center he’s currently at. Surely they have competent personnel?

“Why… did they request me?” You carefully ask, not sure you’re allowed to ask any questions. Which is absurd if you think about it because of course you’re allowed to ask questions if she specifically called you to her office to give you a choice.

She purses her lips and twirls the pen in her fingers. “Apparently he’s giving them trouble. They don’t know what to do and found out he was more comfortable with you. Usually they would just give a problematic hybrid like him a medical discharge from his duties but apparently he’s a big enough asset for them to reach out to us.”

You nod trying to understand. What happened? Things hadn’t looked that bad. What had happened that Simon is once again deemed a problematic? Are you willing to go to England for an unknown amount of time because they ask you to? It might be months until he’s rehabilitated.

Your thoughts return to the few moments you had with him. You remember him in the bath, the way he’d let you dry his hair. The way you felt like you might overcome your fear with him. Maybe you don’t have to try with another hybrid. Maybe Simon is meant to be your charge so you can both help each other. This might be what you’ve been waiting for without knowing.

You’re a bit unsettled by how quick you’ve come to your decision. You should probably think this through more but you’d sign the handler papers in a heartbeat. That reminds you…

“What about him? Don’t the laws in England demand that he agrees with me being his handler?”

She nods, rifles through a stack of paper on her table and finally finds what she’s looking for. She folds the stapled stack of papers open on the last page and slides it over her desk towards you. At the bottom two lines for signatures sit.

“He already signed signed.”

You stare at the line where his name sits in neat block writing. You can’t help yourself but run your finger over it. Your heart thumps hectically in your chest. He already agreed to you being his handler. All you have to do is sign as well. You try to come up with all the logical questions and things that should make you hesitate.

“What about housing and stuff?” You hate how you say ‘stuff’ like you don’t know what you’re talking about. Your thoughts are rushing. You have a hard time getting a hold of them. Taking care of contracts and the whole organizational stuff was never your strong suit. Your strong suit is working with hybrids, at least you thought so until Phillip. But the fact that Simon apparently wants you as his handler makes the smallest bit of confidence grow.

They want you in England because whatever happened makes them think you can help him. Whatever he said makes them think you’re who they have to turn to. You can do this. This is also what the hybrid wants. What will happen to Simon if you refuse?

Meg rips you from your thoughts. “They board and lodge their staff if they chose to live on site.”

You nod and then hold your hand out for the pen.

“Are you sure?” Meg asks and hesitantly gives in to you. You scribble your signature on the line next to Simon’s.

“Yes.” You say. Actually you aren’t sure at all. It’s probably stupid to sign so quickly when you haven’t asked a lot of important questions but if you don’t sign now you’ll think about it and then fear will claw at your chest and prevent you from going for it. Maybe it’s stupid and reckless. But it feels right.

Meg shrugs and takes the paper with your signature back. “Alright. Simon Riley is officially your new charge. They want you over there as quickly as possible so you should take the earliest flight you can. We’ll prepare your papers and request your substitute.”

Liz is gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are stark white. Your knee is bouncing again and she glances at you from the corner of her eyes every now and then. She insisted on driving you to the airport and you’re very thankful despite arguing at first that she doesn’t have to.

“What is it?” You ask and now both your legs are bouncing.

Her hands shift on the wheel before gripping hard again. “Are you sure about this?”

You sigh and put your face in your hands. “No.” You mumble. She has the audacity to laugh at that. You shoot her a look and then start laughing too. What the hell are you doing? You’re about to fly to a whole other continent for a hybrid you don’t even really know.

She shrugs but her hands relax. “We can still cancel it all. I’ll kidnap you, no one will ever know that you tucked your tail and ran.”

That makes you laugh harder and you shake your head resting it back against the headrest. “I feel insane for this but I couldn’t say no. Maybe I’ll end up regretting this but maybe… Maybe everything will work out? What if this is what I need? A problem hybrid in a whole other country who wants me as his handler.”

Liz purses her lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never known you to be so impulsive but if you feel like you have to do this I won’t stop you. But if I receive word that you want to come back and don’t want to do this after all, I’ll terminate the contract and personally come get your ass back to the US.”

You snort at that but something in you calms down. Despite her joking tone you know that she means every word. You look at her for a while and it hits you that you don’t know how long you’ll be in England. Who knows when you’ll be in the same room as her again.

“Thank you.” You say quietly and Liz just nods.

The rest of the ride is comfortably quiet.

At the airport she squeezes you tightly and helps you with your luggage. Before you know it you’re on the plane and taking off. Your whole body starts getting jittery with nerves. You breathe deeply remembering one of the exercises your therapist gave you. She offered to keep holding your sessions online and you’re incredibly thankful for it.

You manage to calm down during the flight and even sneak in a nap, waking up with a racing heart to the announcement that the plane is on approach. As soon as you touch ground and have permission to use your phone you text Liz to let her know that you landed safely.

Half an hour later you’re in a cab going for the rehabilitation center you’ll stay at for an unknown amount of time. You wipe your hands on your pants thankful that the cab driver doesn’t try to make conversation so you can look out the window at the darkness of the evening.

It’s weird to think about how much more of the day Liz has left while it’s already very late evening here.

The street lights illuminate parts of the road and you feel like you’re dying inside from all the uncertainty of what is to come. You wish the drive would never end so you can’t arrive at the center. Alternatively you’d be happy with a concise list of what exactly will happen and who exactly you’ll meet. You get neither an endless ride nor a list. Sooner than you’d like the cab stops and you’re left with your gigantic luggage on the sidewalk.

You sincerely hope no one watches the awkward waddle you do while dragging your heavy bag with you to the front gate. Your wishes go unnoticed because someone approaches you quickly and you straighten up your heart jumping into your throat.

When the person is finally close enough for you to make them out clearly your breath hitches and you can’t help but look at him with wide eyes. He’s a snake hybrid. You’ve never seen one before and even if you’re aware of how rude it is you can’t stop staring.

“Welcome! You’re the handler from America, right?” He greets you and you gape at him nodding. He has a split tongue. The street lamps illuminate him dimly and if you aren’t mistaken the faint outline of scales is visible at his temples and his jaw.

He waits a moment and then slightly squirms under your scrutiny. “Ah. Am I your first snake hybrid?”

That manages to shake you out of it and you nod mumbling an apology. He easily hoists up your baggage onto his shoulder and opens a door in the gate with a key card.

“Don’t worry. I get that reaction with most people. We’re all really happy that you’re here. Simon has been… difficult to say the least.” The snake hybrid goes on and you can’t help but wonder how he knows so much. Who is he? Is he the companion hybrid of one of the handlers here?

You’re staring again while you follow him and his shoulders tense. “Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. How silly. I’m Nathair but please call me Nate.”

You give him your name in return and he stops for a moment to extend his hand for you to shake before continuing his way towards a large building. Before you can get a good look at the way it’s structured Nate leads you through the entrance door and towards a reception desk.

Smoothly he slides behind it sorting some papers and putting them in a folder then he gets a key card and stands again. He extends the folder to you and you take it before Nathair rounds the desk again, takes up your luggage once more and makes his way down a hallway. You hurry to follow.

“Those are some papers we need signed, some information like a map and the rules of our center. I also included Simon’s file.”

Suddenly your interest is piqued. “Where is he?”

Nate turns down another hallway and you already know it will take a while before you’re comfortable with the layout of the center. Thank god for the map.

“He’s being kept in a safety room where he will stay until he is ready to join you.”

“Join me?” You have to jog a few steps to keep up with Nate’s quick pace and when he notices he slows down. Here in the light of the building you can get a good look at him.

He’s magnificent. Broad shoulders, copper coloured hair and a dusting of dark reddish brows freckles that get denser towards his temples and fade into a few scattered scales. His skin is pale and along his jaw fading down his neck you can make out some more scales.

His eyes are big and round and something about them is slightly off. You can’t say exactly what it is though. The hands which are holding up your luggage are strong but slender and on the back of them you can once again see reddish brown scales disappear under his sleeves.

“Yes. Join you. Hybrids and handlers share their rooms here but with Simon being the way he is we didn’t deem it safe enough to bring him to the general housing wing yet. “

Suddenly you feel stupid again. You really agreed too quickly without enough information. You didn’t even know about the rooming situation. You straighten your shoulders. It’s too late now and it’s not like you would decide differently if you were given the choice again.

“This one’s yours.” Nate finally stops in front of a door. Right on the door, engraved in a small plastic plate, is your name. You swallow nervously as Nate unlocks it and puts your baggage down inside against the wall next to the entrance.

You walk in and a small smile blooms on your face. It’s cosy. Not so small that it feels cramped but not big enough to make you feel lost in it either. The curtains are drawn over the windows and there is even a small kitchenette cramped into the corner next to one of the windows.

On the right side nestled into a corner is a decently sized desk and on the left opposite to it is the bed pushed against the wall.

You walk in looking through an open door on the right side at the end of the room. It’s the bathroom. At the far end of the tiled room you see another door. Once you’ve scanned every corner you turn back to ask Nate about the door and you catch him with his split tongue out. He blushes a brilliant red under his freckles and lifts his hand to rub the back of his head.

“Ah… sorry. I was just smelling the room.” He sheepishly admits and you cock your head at him in curiosity.

“I smell better with my mouth and tongue than I do with my nose and I wanted to get your scent.”

You laugh at the embarrassed expression on his face and he turns even redder which makes you shake your head and put your hands up. “No, no! I’m not laughing at you!”

You take a step in his direction. “Nate, I work with dog hybrids for a living. I’m used to being smelled.”

He seems taken aback by that then he grins. “Do you mind then?”

You shake your head and Nate takes a step closer his split tongue testing the air for a few moments before he steps back and nods. “Thank you. Not knowing how someone smells feels like I don’t fully know who they are. Like I never saw a their face.”

You nod. “If I say I understand that I’d be lying because I obviously do not experience these things like you do. But it makes sense, no need to be embarrassed.”

He seems happy with that and looks around the room. His eyes settle on another door in the middle of the right wall. He steps towards it.

“Through this you’ll get to Simon’s room. It’s exactly the same as yours just mirrored. His room also shares the bathroom with yours.”

Ah that’s the other door you noticed in the bathroom. Curiously you open it and look into Simon’s room. Just like Nate says it’s a perfectly mirrored version of yours. But it’s empty and suddenly you can’t stay a moment longer here without having seen Simon. You need to make sure he’s okay.

“Nate. Where is Simon? Can I see him?”

The snake hybrid once again scratches the back of his head. “It’s already late.”

“Please. I need to know he’s okay. I came all this way specifically for him.”

Nate looks at you for a long moment and whatever he sees in your expression makes him sigh and relent.

Your ribcage hurts from the violent beats of your heart as you follow Nate through the building. He leads you down so many turns that you’re sure you won’t find your way back on your own.

The fact that all the hallways look basically the same doesn’t help your orientation but all you think about is seeing Simon again. He’s probably mostly healed by now. Will he be excited to see you? After all he signed the agreement first.

Nate leads you down the corridor to a seeming dead end but when you get closer you see that there is actually a door at the end. You both stop before it and the snake hybrid gets his key card.

“Would you like me to go in first and make sure he’s calm?” He asks and you immediately shake your head.

“It will be fine.”

Nate presses his lips into a thin line but nods and unlocks the door. You wipe your palms on your pants the excitement of seeing him again almost overwhelming you. You’re here and he is here and everything will be fine.

The door opens and you step into the room. Simon’s on his feet at the other end and oh, he looks spectacular. You’ve been separated long enough that his health noticeably progressed during that time.

His ears perk forward and Nate slips into the room besides you, closing the door.

Seeing Simon standing on his own without any struggle fills you with relief and your eyes with tears. Physically he already looks so much better than you remember him and the joy of that realization almost makes you shake.

“It’s you.” He rumbles and you cannot restrain yourself anymore taking hasty steps in his direction. Giddy that he’s alive and on his feet and looks well. Everything will work out after all. You’ll take care of each other.

You realize your mistake too late, blinded by the happiness. Time seems to almost slow to a halt. For a moment Simon’s eyes widen, then his tail bristles and his ears press against his head, his lips peel back revealing his dangerous canines.

Your heart stops but you’re mere steps from him and before you can stop the malinois hybrid charges the last steps that separate you.

“No!” Nate shouts somewhere behind you but you barely hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Simon barrels into you, throwing you to the floor and your head cracks against the tiles making pain explode all over the back of it. Simon’s honey coloured eyes are narrowed in aggression and his growl rattles your bones. His big body presses you against the cold hard floor uncomfortably. Every bone aching from the fall.

His teeth flash and you barely have the time to throw up your arms, crossing them in front of you to shield your face and neck. His fangs sink into your forearm. The intensity of the pain almost makes you cry out and you grunt.

Your eyes widen as you look up at Simon’s expression, nose scrunched as he grinds his teeth deeper into your arm until you feel like he’ll break right through your bones. He’s growling like he wants to kill you. His broad shoulders block out the room behind him. All you can see is his vicious snarl and angry eyes.

For some reason it’s the trickle of blood running down to your elbow that catches your attention. How funny, you think, that your own blood can tickle you like this.

[thasorns-moved]

[arminsumi]

... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.

+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification

+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳

Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.

"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.

He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.

"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.

He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.

"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.

"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.

There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.

"'s too deep! T-too big!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.

He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.

After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.

He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.

"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"

"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.

"You're crazy."

But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.

He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.

Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.

When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.

"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.

He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.

"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.

And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.

"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.

Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.

"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.

"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."

His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."

Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.

You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.

[d1stalker]

All of You, All of Me [Logan Howlett]

Summary: In a world of black and white, the only person who could bring colour to your life is the last one who'd want to.

Warnings: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, fem!reader, slow burn, angst, running away from feelings, pining, grovelinggg WC: 14.2k - MASTERLIST - A/N: help i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to get this long, but this fic is my baby

----

You've always cherished the idea of having a soulmate���someone who would love you unconditionally, waiting just for you as you them. The thought of finding that perfect match, the one who complements you in every way, is something you’ve always dreamed of. 

But as you get older, the hope you carry seems to dwindle more and more each year. Everyone around you has found their other half, reveling in the newfound ability to see colours in all their glory, and soaking up every moment of shared affection.

Everyone, except for you.

Your world remains a stark, colourless void, as if the universe is deliberately withholding the one thing you desire most.

And to make matters worse, despite not finding your soulmate, you are unequivocally, irrevocably in love with someone who has.

Logan Howlett.

You can’t remember a time where you didn’t feel anything toward him. His rugged, lone-wolf demeanor snuck its way deep into the crevices of your heart, and made itself a home there.

You and him formed an unlikely friendship, formed through the desire to fight back against all the people who’ve wronged mutants. Over the years, you had accepted the fact that while he wasn’t yours, at least you were alone together. Well, until she came.

Jean Grey.

She was strong, charming, and everything you felt you weren’t. It was no wonder her and Logan were meant to be together—the stoic, brooding mutant and his graceful, strong-willed counterpart. 

You remember the day it happened so vividly, it’s almost like you were the one who found their life partner. You and him had been walking around the mansion, when Charles had called you into his office to meet someone new. One look at their faces when they made eye contact and you knew you’d lost him.

It pained you to see them all over each other, all the time. Your once-regular walks in the garden became rare, then vanished entirely. On missions, he no longer looked out for you; his attention was consumed by protecting her. And as much as it hurt, you couldn’t deny they seemed perfect for each other—just as soulmates should be. You had no right to feel jealous.

Then, just as quickly as she had entered his life, she left it. 

The Pheonix was too strong, ripping her apart from the inside out. The pained scream he let out as not only his heart died, but as the world around him faded back into black and white, was forever ingrained into your memory. 

Logan was never the same after that.

 —

You trudge down the familiar halls of the mansion, your feet heavy with the weight of the day. It’s been long, filled with training sessions, team meetings, and a lot of paperwork. All you want to do is retreat to your room, lose yourself in a book, or maybe just sleep until the ache in your chest dulls.

As you walk, you hear faint commotion down the hallway—a low murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of something being moved. But you pay it no mind, too lost in your thoughts to care. Another mission, another discussion, another moment where you aren’t needed. It’s all so routine now.

Lost in your reverie, you don’t notice the figure walking toward you until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, the impact jolting you back to reality.

“Oh, sorry—” you begin, stepping back, but the words die on your lips as you look up.

It’s Logan.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, shock rippling through your body as you process his presence. And for a moment, neither of you speak. You just stand there, taking him in—the man who was once your closest friend, the man who was torn apart by grief and loss. His clothes are rumpled, his skin rougher than you remember, like he’s been through hell and back. 

You hadn’t seem him in a long time. After the devastation, he stopped talking to everyone. He holed himself up in his room for days at a time, only coming out in the dead of night to eat. Either that, or he was away on a mission–anything to stay distracted. 

But now, looking at him, there’s something different off. Something you can’t quite place your finger on. Did he always look like that? Maybe it’s the way the light above is reflecting off of him. Or maybe it’s—oh.

Looking around in surprise, you watch as the usually dark, stoic walls explode into a deep, rich shade. The carpet below you—no longer a mural of grey—radiates colors you can’t name. Your hands, his eyes, his hair-

You want to open your mouth and say something, anything, to the man who has caused your world to shift on its axis, but he’s already turned, walking away from you.

“Give me a fuckin’ break.”

----

Brown. Logan’s hair is brown.

After Logan leaves you paralyzed in the hallway, you run to your room, find the book on colors you had stashed in your bedside table, and throw open the cover. In it is a diagram that displays every known colour and their names. You learn that your favorite pair of pants are maroon, your bedsheets are navy green, and the X-Men suits are bright yellow and blue.

You stare at the page, each word blurring as your mind tries to process the impossible. Logan’s hair is brown. The thought keeps repeating in your head like a mantra, over and over again, until it becomes a steady thrum, drowning out everything else.

Brown.

You sit back on your bed, letting the book slip from your hands, the pages crumpling as it hits the floor.

Why him? Why me? Why now?

You begin to fidget, the adrenaline of the prior moment causing your heart to flail in your chest like crazy. You can’t stay here, you think to yourself. The idea of locked in your room with only your thoughts for company does not sound appealing. You need air, something to ground you, something to clear the haze clouding your head. Without thinking, you jump out of bed and find yourself heading up to the roof, the one place where you can breathe without feeling like the walls of the mansion closing in on you.

The trip up the stairs feels longer than ever before, each step heavy under the weight of your mind. It’s like every thought adds ten pounds. When you open the door, the cool night air hits you like a welcomed slap to the face, and you exhale deeply.

Walking to the edge, you lean against the railing. You’re in a daze - wondering if you made up the entire thing in your head. The only proof that you haven't, and that Logan being your soulmate is real, is the colours that coat the mansion’s grounds. The moonlight bathes everything in what you now know as a soft, silver glow, and for a moment, you just stand there, looking out into the distance.

It doesn’t make sense, and the more you try to wrap your head around it, the more tangled your thoughts become. You don’t want to face the possibility of what it could mean, but you can’t just brush it aside either. It has quite literally changed your entire life. 

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quiet your racing mind. But when you open them again, you freeze.

Logan is standing at the other end of the roof, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the sky. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and for a split second, you consider turning back, retreating before he sees you. It would be a wise idea - he didn’t want to talk to you then, and he probably doesn’t want to talk to you now. But, it an act that can only be seen as your own body betraying you, you take a step forward. 

The sudden movement catches his attention, and his head snaps in your direction, his eyes locking onto yours. 

“Why are you here?” he asks accusingly.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Seeing him out here was the last thing you had expected, and now that he’s in front of you, you are at a loss of words.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and he pushes off the wall, walking toward you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed air,” you manage to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just needed to clear my head.”

“Well, find somewhere else to do it,” he snaps, “I don’t want company.”

“Logan, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, not even bothering to hear you out. “Don’t start. I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

You blink, taken aback, and hurt at his coldness. “What are you talking about?”

He lets out a low, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? God, I… this is all so fucking stupid.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. “I wasn’t—”

“Enough!” he barks, his voice echoing in the night. “I’m not interested, alright? Whatever it is you think is happening between us, it’s not real. It’s just some stupid trick of the universe, and I’m not playing along.”

His words hit you like a physical blow - like you’ve just been shot at right in the heart - and you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. “I don’t understand. I didn’t mean for any of this—”

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” he snaps at you, “And I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like there’s something here,” he gestures between you two, “when there isn’t. You’re not mine, and I’m sure as hell not yours.”

The finality in his tone leaves you breathless, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. You have nothing to say back, he’s not giving you any slack. The reality of his rejection sinks in with a brutal, crushing weight, you have to put in effort to not stumble over. 

After a long moment, you finally collect yourself. Then, “Okay,” you whisper. “I understand.”

Logan’s expression doesn’t soften; if anything, it grows colder, more distant.

“Good. Then stay away from me.”

You nod, eyes filling with tears. You quickly turn your face away, not wanting him to see just how much he’s hurt you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge your apology. He just turns away, his back to you, effectively shutting you out.

You stand there for a long moment, watching him walk away for the second time that night. The colours that seemed so vibrant, so full of life just a moment ago, now feel like a cruel reminder of everything you could never have.

—

When you eventually return to your room, all you can do is lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your encounter with Logan on the roof replays in your mind on an endless loop, each harsh word he’d thrown at you cutting deeper than the last. It’s causes pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, pain that seems to have no end, no respite.

If he doesn’t want you in his life, you’ll accept that. You have to - it’s not like you have a choice. Soulmates are a two-way street.  

You can’t force him to feel something he doesn’t, can’t make him see you in a way he clearly never will. And you understand, don’t you? You can’t even imagine how difficult this would be for him. Losing your soulmate, and then the universe saying Fuck You and giving you another? 

You’ll never ever forget how wrecked he was when Jean died. How her death shattered him into pieces so small you weren’t–no–you’re still not sure he’ll ever be whole again. 

And you—where do you stand in the grand scheme of things? Just as the unfortunate recipient of a bond that neither of you asked for? Are you even allowed to be upset about this?

—

Waking up the next morning, you honestly wish you hadn’t. You knew you weren’t on good terms with Logan after his little rooftop showcase of emotions, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he starts to treat you.

His face is stuck in a perpetual scowl when you’re in his vicinity. He’s leaving every room the moment you enter, refusing to look at you, speak to you, or acknowledge your presence in any way. It’s as if you’ve become invisible, a ghost haunting the same halls you once shared with him. There’s only one thing you two seem to wordlessly agree on: don’t tell anyone. 

Each day following becomes a struggle, an unbearable test of your strength as you try to make it through without breaking. You begin to avoid Logan as much as he avoids you, but the mansion is only so big, and there are always moments when you catch sight of him in the distance, his broad shoulders hunched, his brooding face glaring daggers in your direction. 

It hurts you every time, an unending torture that leaves you stumbling. Still, you bite your tongue and keep moving, pretending you don’t care.

But you do care. You care more than you want to admit, more than you think is possible. Because despite everything—despite the rejection, the coldness, the anger—you still love him. 

And that’s the cruelest twist of all.

So you endure it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Letting it tear you apart piece by piece, because what else can you do? You carry this burden alone, just as you’ve carried your feelings for him all these years. And maybe one day, the pain will fade, the bond will weaken, and you’ll be able to move on.

—

The only person you tell is Charles.

“What’s on your mind, my child?” he asks one day, while you’re sweeping the dust in his office. 

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your hands as you focus on cleaning. You know he’s just asking out of courtesy, and that he could easily crawl into your mind and figure it out himself. He probably wouldn’t even need to put in that much effort, given how loud your thoughts are. But still, you don’t yield to his probing.

“Nothing, really,” you mutter, forcing a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Just… tired, I guess.”

Charles watches you carefully, his eyes full of the warmth and compassion he always has, but this time, it makes you feel uncomfortable. Like he can see right through the facade you’re trying so hard to maintain, which you have no doubt, he does. 

“I’m here to help, whatever the burden.”

You want to groan. It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose but damn does it feel like he’s trying to guilt you into confessing that you just recently had your heart shattered. 

“I know, Professor. But… it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“You forget, I worry about all of you,” he replies gently. “It’s in my nature.”

The chuckle that crawls out your throat is nothing short of bitter. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep the emotions at bay. Do you really want to explain to him the insurmountable suffering you’re in, the rejection you faced from the one person who is supposed to be your soulmate? How can you tell him that the bond the universe forged is the very thing tearing you apart?

“It’s just… I don’t know how to make sense of it, Professor,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s so… wrong.”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Wrong how?”

Knowing that you’re teetering into confession territory, you hesitate, needing time to collect your thoughts. 

“Logan… he… we… It’s not supposed to be like this, is it?” you eventually get out. Not your best work, but you know he’d get the gist. 

Understanding dawns in Charles’s eyes, and you can see the sympathy there, the quiet acceptance of the truth you’re struggling to voice. “The bond you share… it’s more than you expected, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling the tears well up again. “But he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want me.”

The professor sighs softly, and he looks at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Logan has been through so much, more than most could bear. His heart has been wounded in ways that are difficult to heal, and it’s not surprising that he would resist this new connection.”

“So why me?” you ask. “Why bind me to someone who will never love me?”

Leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully, he says, “I wish I had an answer for you, my dear. The universe works in mysterious ways, ways that often defy our understanding. But I do know this: the bond you share is there for a reason. Whether it’s meant to bring you closer or to teach you something important… that remains to be seen.”

“It feels like a punishment,” you whisper, the tears finally spilling over. As much as you hate being put on the hot seat, you can admit that it feels good talking to someone about it.  “Every day, it hurts more. And he won’t even look at me. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“The heartache you’re feeling is profound, but you must understand that it’s not your fault. Logan’s reaction isn’t a reflection of your worth, but of his own pain and fear.”

He reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your own before continuing.

“To love, even when it’s not returned, takes incredible courage. But you must also take care of yourself. Give Logan the space he needs, and in the meantime, allow yourself the grace to heal.”

So you do. In the days that follow your conversation with Charles, you make a promise to yourself—to try, really try, to focus on your own life, to reclaim the parts of yourself that have been overshadowed by the pain of this unrequited love.

The colours are still there, vivid and vibrant, and though they sometimes feel like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be, you find moments where they bring you joy. You marvel at the deep blue of the sky, the rich greens of the trees, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves and paints the world in golden hues. It’s like seeing the world anew, and in those moments, you allow yourself to feel happiness.

Moreover, you busy yourself, volunteering for every assignment that comes your way. The adrenaline, the focus, the purpose—they all help to drown out the pain, even if only temporarily. And when you return from each mission, tired but satisfied, you feel a little more like yourself again.

The mansion, too, becomes less of a prison and more of a home once more. You start spending more time with the others, rejoining them for meals, for training sessions, for movie nights. 

You laugh with Rogue, spar with Scott, and even find yourself engaging in playful banter with Remy. It’s not perfect, and there are still moments where you catch yourself faltering, when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under, but those moments are becoming fewer and farther between.

You’re healing, slowly but surely, and with each passing day, you feel a little stronger, a little more in control of your life—of your emotions. 

But then there are the times when you cross paths with Logan, and those moments are the hardest.

One evening, after returning from a particularly grueling mission, you find yourself heading toward the kitchen, your mind on the sandwich you plan to make. The place is quiet, most of the team out on various assignments, or finishing up on some work, and you relish the peace as you walk down the corridor.

However, just as you reach the kitchen door and push it open, you find Logan standing there, preparing to exit the room at the exact same moment. Your heart lurches, and you stop dead in your tracks, almost like a deer caught in headlights. 

His gaze meets yours, and all you can see is his impassive, stoic expression. He steps back, giving you space to enter, but the tension between you is palpable.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Logan doesn’t say anything, barely nodding—if you could even it that— before brushing past you, his shoulder grazing yours. The brief contact sends a jolt through your system, and you have to force yourself to stay still and not physically react. 

Once he leaves, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing from the encounter. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him—so long since you’ve seen the deep brown of his hair that you love so much. You hate this. 

Why does he have no reaction to at all? Why is it only you who seems to care? 

Because you are the only one who does care.

You move into the kitchen, still intent on eating, but it’s a challenge. Your hands are trembling.

—

It all comes to a head one night during dinner. In this rare occasion, both you and Logan are in the same room. You’re supposed to be celebrating Rogue and Gambit’s anniversary, and even though you insisted that they share this special moment together alone, they didn’t take no for an answer. 

That’s how you find yourself, sitting at the grand dining table with all your friends, and Logan. 

He’s across from you. Just your luck.

He refuses to spare you a single glance, his eyes staying busy the whole night. And while it’s been months and months of this, you have never gotten used to it. Still, you can’t help but sneak a few looks at that chocolate-coloured hair. Brown. 

Everything seems to be going smoothly, the food is delicious and the dessert even better, but when Gambit presents Rogue with a giant painting, that’s when you slip up. 

���I love how you blended the red with the blue!” You compliment, loving the way he managed to create the perfect contrast between shades. You’re too caught up in staring at the artwork to realize the table as gone deathly quiet, all eyes on you.

Rogue's expression is one of gentle confusion, her head tilted slightly as she tries to make sense of your words. “Darling, I thought you couldn’t see colour?”

In any other situation, you’re sure the team would have laughed at how comically large your eyes got, and how all the blood draining from your face makes you look like a gaping fish, but in this moment, nothing is funny. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, and when you finally muster the courage to glance at him, you see that his all-too familiar glare you’ve been subject to for the last half-year. It makes your heart thud painfully in your chest

“I…” you begin, but you falter. Your mind is going through a thousand thoughts per minute, searching for an excuse you can use to deflect, to pretend it was just a mistake, but the silence is too heavy, too demanding.

Rogue’s confusion deepens, her gaze flickering between you and Logan, who is now staring at you with an expression that’s impossible to read. She starts to say something, but Remy gently places a hand on her arm, shaking his head slightly as if to tell her to let you speak. 

Logan’s gaze stays locked on you for a moment longer. Then, without a word, he pushes his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sound echoes in the silence, and before you can react, he stands up and walks out of the room, his movements stiff, almost mechanical.

The door closes behind him with a quiet click, and the tension in the room thickens. You feel a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your heart sinking as the reality of what just happened crashes over you. 

You lower your head, your eyes stinging with tears that you fight desperately to hold back. But it’s no use. The emotions you’ve been trying to keep buried for so long bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the tears start to fall. 

“I think I need a moment,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling as you stand up from the table. Without waiting for a response, you hastily excuse yourself and head for the door, not before mumbling a quick apology to the couple in which you were there for.

Soon you find yourself outside in the gardens, the nightly breeze hitting your face as you make your way to a secluded bench. You can’t even appreciate the beauty in what you see, because all you feel is the overwhelming sense of failure and sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.

Sitting down heavily on the bench, you bury your face in your hands and let go. The sobs come hard and fast, each one ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. You’re heartbroken and angry and absolutely over it, but at the same time you feel like a massive asshole because who are you to be upset with a man who’s mourning the loss of a soulmate? 

It’s not fair.

You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in your grief, but eventually, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, wiping at your eyes, and see Scott walking toward you.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks gently.

You shake your head, unable to find your voice, and Scott sits down beside you on the bench. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak, “I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

Scott clicks his tongue in disagreement, his gaze focused on the gardens ahead. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s clear you’ve been carrying this burden for a long time. It’s no wonder it slipped out tonight.”

“So everyone knows now?” you ask. He nods.

“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” he concludes, and you groan, bringing your hands to your face.

“I just… I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be pitied.”

“Pity isn’t what anyone feels right now,” Scott says softly. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been hurting, and we didn’t see it. That’s on us.”

“It’s not your fault,” you bring your hands down from your face. “I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own. I thought I could handle it, but… clearly I was wrong”

With a serious expression, Scott turns to look at you. “I know what you’re going through, more than you might realize.”

You glance at him, surprised by his words. “You do?”

He nods, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was in love with Jean, remember? When her and Logan found out they were soulmates… it tore me apart. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move on, and for a long time, I couldn’t.”

The mention of Jean’s name brings a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but there’s also a strange comfort in knowing that Scott understands your pain. “How did you… how did you get through it?”

He sighs, “It wasn’t easy. It took a long time, and I had to accept it.”

You wipe at your eyes again, sniffling as you try to compose yourself. “I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while. Taking a longer mission, just to get away for a bit. Maybe then I can figure out how to move on.”

He is quiet for a moment, considering your words. “If that’s what you need to do, I understand,” he says, “sometimes, a change of scenery can help. Though I think you should try to talk to Logan again.”

Letting out a bitter laugh, you shake your head. “I don’t know if he’ll even listen to me. He’s made it pretty clear how he feels.”

“He’s hurting too,” He decides, “He’s not handling it well, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You both need closure, and running away won’t give you that.”

“What if it just makes things worse?”

“It might.” Scott places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “But it might also give you both the chance to start healing. You deserve that chance.”

You nod slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Take the time you need,” he says. “We’re all here for you.”

“Thanks, Scott. That means a lot.” You offer him a small, grateful smile.

With a final nod, he turns and walks back toward the mansion, leaving you once again alone in the quiet of the gardens. You take a deep breath, the idea of leaving still tugs at you, but now, there’s also the thought of confronting Logan—of finding some kind of closure, whatever that might mean.

You really don’t want to do it, and you’re pretty sure it’s just going to end the same way it did last time - with him shutting you out. But Scott’s words echo in your mind, reminding you that healing often requires confrontation, not avoidance.

Goddamn it.

You huff as you stand up from where you’re seated. You can’t keep running from this, can’t keep letting him run from this. You need to talk to Logan, to lay everything out on the table, even if it tears you apart in the process.

Your anxiety builds with each step as you approach his room, and you pause outside his door, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he could hear it if he was listening. This is it. There’s no turning back now. With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand and knock. 

There’s a long, agonizing pause, making you strain to hear any movement on the other side. For a second, the silence causes you think he might not answer, that he might just ignore you like he’s done so many times before. But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. Your heart catches in your throat as it slowly opens, revealing Logan standing there, his expression hard and unreadable.

The moment he realizes it’s you, his eyes darken, and he immediately moves to close the door, shutting you out yet again. However, you’re not letting him get away that easily. Before the door can fully close, you stick your foot out, blocking it with more force than you intended.

“C’mon, Logan,” you press. “You know we need to talk.”

He freezes, his grip on the door tightening until his knuckles turn white. His jaw clenches and unclenches, nostrils flaring. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if he can will you away if he tries hard enough. But he doesn’t push the door shut either. The room is thick with suspense, both of you standing there in a silent standoff.

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, Logan steps back, opening the door just a smidge wider, barely enough for you to squeeze through. It’s a reluctant invitation, but it’s all you need.

“Fine,” he mutters, his voice rough, edged with irritation. “Talk.”

You step into the room, and he closes the door behind you, lingering close to it, as if he’s ready to bolt at any second. You feel vulnerable and exposed. It’s suddenly hard to gather your thoughts when he’s standing so close, when the heat of his presence and the distance he’s placed between is right in your face.

“Why did you come?” Logan questions. He still refuses to look directly at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder.

“Because we can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening,” you reply, “We need to talk about what’s going on between us.”

His jaw tightens further, and his teeth grind with barely contained frustration. He finally looks at you, his eyes hard and defensive. “There’s nothing to say,” he says bitterly. “I told you how I feel. I thought that was enough.”

“It’s not enough!” you shoot back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think you can just push me away, pretend like this bond doesn’t exist, and that’s supposed to solve everything? It doesn’t work like that, Logan.”

He flinches slightly at your words, but his keeps his expression hard. “Well what do you want me to say?” he demands, his voice rising. “That I’m sorry? That I didn’t mean to hurt you? Because I am, and I didn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

His words hurt. 

“I know you told me how you feel,” you start, “but you’ve never let me tell you how I feel. You’ve never given me the chance to say that it’s been tearing me apart.”

A flash of guilt. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think you needed to say it. I already knew.”

“That isn’t fair,” you argue.

“You don’t understand,” he counters, “I lost Jean. I loved her, and when she died, it broke something in me. And now… now I’m supposed to just… move on? With you? It’s not that simple.”

“I never asked you to love me, Logan,” you say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “I never pushed for anything more than friendship—it’s not like you gave me the chance! You’ve been shutting me out, ignoring me, making me feel like I’m nothing more than a burden, like I don’t even matter!”

You can see that the pain in your voice hitting him hard, but he doesn’t apologize. Instead, he looks away, his expression conflicted. “I’m trying to protect you,” he mutters, the words sounding hollow even to him

“Protect me?” you echo incredulously. “All you’re doing is make me feel like shit. Like I’m worthless. I can’t even be your friend, to help you through this.”

You pause. “You expect us all to know how you’re feeling, but you can’t even communicate it.”

Logan winces, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, filled with a torment you’ve never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to get caught in his throat. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” he admits, his tone filled with a deep, aching sadness. “I don’t know how to let you in. Without her, I feel like… I can’t let anyone in.”

Your eyes soften a fraction his confession, but there’s also a deep frustration that burns inside you, a frustration born of months of pain and rejection. 

“You haven’t even tried,” you say softly with a quiet resignation, “You haven’t even tried to let me in, to see what we could have been, even if it was just as friends.”

What follows is a long, nagging silence. You let it linger, giving Logan the chance he needs to think of something to say. But there’s no answer, no promise that things will change, and then you realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not going to take that step, too broken to try.

That’s when it really hits you. 

Whatever you were fighting for, was a losing battle from the start. 

You give up.

This time, it is you who turns your back on him. 

“Goodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself.”

You don’t wait for a response. You don’t glance back. You walk out of the room, the door closing softly behind you, and with it, the last remnants of hope you had for something more.

— 

You decide to go on the mission.

It’s nothing complicated. Your task is to survey different regions of Europe, ensuring that there are no burgeoning anti-mutant operations threatening the safety of anyone. The primary goal is gathering information, and quiet observation. No violence, Charles told you in the debrief. 

The lack of immediate danger doesn’t make leaving any easier, though. This is as much about finding yourself as it is about fulfilling your duty.

Rogue and Kitty are with you during your final preparations, helping you pack the essentials and offering support in their own ways. They don’t ask many questions, probably sensing that this decision was not just made on a whim. And for that, you’re grateful.

“I still think you’re crazy for going solo,” Rogue says with a half-smile as she zips up your bag. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

You manage a small smile in return. “Thanks, Rogue. I just need some time…”

Kitty, who’s been quietly folding clothes and tucking them into your bag, looks up, seriousness clouding her gaze.  “We get it. Just promise you’ll keep in touch, okay? And don’t hesitate to call if you need backup.”

“I promise,” you assure.

She hesitates for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small device—the X-Men communicator gadget. She holds it out to you, and you reach your hand out. 

“Here,” she says softly, pressing the device into your hand. “This is so you can update us on your whereabouts, your status, or any important mission details. Even if you don’t need anything, just… let us know you’re okay, alright?”

You look down at the communicator in your hand, and close your fingers around it, nodding as you meet Kitty’s gaze. 

“Alright, I’ll check in regularly. I won’t leave you guys in the dark.”

Rogue finishes the last bit of organization. “You’ve got this,” she says, “And we’ve got your back, even from a distance.” You nod, appreciating their support more than you can express. 

It almost feels like a walk of shame—leaving the mansion. Everyone knows why too, and that makes it a thousand times worse. But you won’t let it get to you. With one last look, you get in your car and begin on the windy path to the airport. 

—

When you arrive in Europe, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer beauty of the landscape. Each city, each town, has its own unique charm, its own story to tell. The bustling uphill streets of Porto, the serene canals of Venice, the ancient ruins of Athens—they all offer a distraction from the turmoil inside you.

The only good part about this whole mess is that you can see colour, and truly appreciate the sights before you.

You move from one place to the next, blending in with the crowds, quietly observing, gathering information, and sending brief updates to the team through the communicator Kitty gave you. Every message is short, to the point, just enough to let them know you’re safe and on track. You don’t share much beyond the essentials, not wanting to burden them with your personal struggles.

Then, in a small café in Rome, you meet a man named Marco. He’s a traveler like you, exploring Europe with a curiosity that matches your own. He’s warm, easygoing, and before long, the two of you strike up a conversation over coffee.

He is charming in a way that makes you feel at ease, his laughter infectious as he shares stories of his travels. You don’t tell him much about yourself, keeping the details of your mission and your mutant abilities hidden. To him, you’re just another traveler, searching for something—though he doesn’t pry into what that something is.

As the days pass, you and Marco continue to cross paths, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone who doesn’t know about your past, about the things you’re running from. With him, you can be anyone, and for the first time in a long while, you start to feel a little lighter. You find yourself laughing more, the weight on your chest lifting a little each day. You don’t talk about the mission, and you certainly don’t talk about Logan.

One evening, as you’re both sitting on the steps of the Spanish Steps in Rome, watching the sunset, he turns to you with a grin. “So, where are you off to next?”

You hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much, but then you smile. “I’m heading to Florence. There are some places I need to check out.”

His eyes light up. “Florence? I’ve been meaning to re-visit. Mind if I tag along?”

A part of you wants to say no, to keep the distance you’ve carefully maintained, but another part—the part that’s been lonely for so long—nods in agreement. “Sure, why not?”

—

Back at the mansion, things haven’t been as positive. The once lively atmosphere has dimmed, replaced by an uneasy tension that lingers in the halls. The X-Men carry on with their duties, but there’s a noticeable shift—a missing piece that everyone feels but no one talks about. Logan, in particular, has become even more withdrawn, if that’s possible. The man who was once brooding and distant now seems even more so, his mood volatile and unpredictable.

His behavior has become a source of concern for the team. He’s always been rough around the edges, but now, it’s like the slightest thing can set him off. He snaps at everyone, his temper flaring at the smallest provocation. On missions, he’s reckless, throwing himself into danger without a second thought, as if he’s trying to outrun something—or someone. 

In many evenings, Logan finds himself in the mansion’s gym, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been plaguing him for months. The room is always empty, save for him, the steady rhythm of his fists pounding against the punching bag being the only sound. Sweat drips down his face, his muscles straining as he channels all his frustration and anger into each punch. Yet, no matter how hard he hits, he can’t seem to shake the thoughts of you that have been haunting him.

This night, door to the gym creaks open, and Logan doesn’t need to look up to know who it is. He can sense the other man’s presence, feel the weight of his gaze as he steps inside. He doesn’t slow his punches, doesn’t acknowledge Scott’s presence, but he knows why he’s here. They’ve had this conversation before—or something like it—but nothing’s changed. Nothing’s gotten better.

Scott watches him for a moment, his expression unreadable. He’s been watching Logan spiral for weeks now, but he’s kept his distance, knowing that he’d only be pushed away. But this can’t go on—Logan can’t keep doing this, can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he refuses to confront.

“She wouldn’t want this,” he finally says, voice cutting through the steady thud of Logan’s fists against the bag.

Logan’s movements falter for just a second before he resumes, his jaw tightening. “Who?” he growls, not bothering to turn around. “Her or Jean?”

Scott doesn’t flinch at the harshness in the other man’s tone. He steps closer, his eyes steady on their target as he answers, “Both.”

Finally, Logan stops. His fists still as he leans against the bag, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His shoulders are tense, the weight of Scott’s words pressing down on him like a physical burden. He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’s lost—of who he’s lost. 

Taking a step closer, Scott’s voice is firm. “Look, I’m not a spiritual person. But I also don’t think the universe messed up with this.”

Clenching, his fists, Logan knows what the other man is getting at, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Doesn’t want to think about what could have been, what he’s been too scared to even consider.

“I know you know how I felt about Jean,” Scott says quietly, knowing he’s breaching a sensitive subject. “Losing her… it killed me too. And if I had been given a chance—a real chance to be with her, to make things right—I would have taken it. No hesitation.”

Logan’s breath hitches at that. The truth is, he’s been running—running from you, from the bond you share, from the possibility of something real. 

“I’m not saying you should chase after her,” he continues. “But I am saying that you need to stop running from her. The universe doesn’t just throw things like this at us for no reason. And you know that.”

The weight of Scott’s words settle over Logan like a shroud. He knows the other man is right—deep down, he’s always known. But that doesn’t make it any easier. The fear, the guilt, the pain of losing Jean—it’s all still there, gnawing at him, holding him back. 

There’s something else too, something he’s been trying to ignore but can’t any longer: the way he feels about you, the way he’s always felt, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. One of the first thought’s that ran through his head when his world re-erupted into colour was that, had this happened before Jean, maybe it could have worked. Maybe he could have been what you wanted, felt something real.

Scott takes a step back, giving Logan the space he needs. “Just think about it,” he says softly. “Think about what you really want. And don’t wait until it’s too late to figure it out.”

Logan doesn’t respond, but Scott doesn’t need him to. He’s said what he needed to say, and now it’s up to him to decide what comes next. With a final look, Scott turns and leaves the gym, the door closing softly behind him.

The clawed mutant stands there for a long time, his fists still clenched, his mind racing. He knows he can’t keep doing this—can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he can’t change, something he’s too afraid to confront.

But change is terrifying, especially when it means facing the truth. The truth that maybe, just maybe, the bond he shares with you is something worth fighting for. Something that Jean wouldn’t want him to throw away.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Logan finally lets his fists unclench, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. He doesn’t have all the answers—hell, he barely knows where to start—but he knows one thing for sure: he's can’t run away anymore. Not from this, not from you.

—

You’ve now spent days in Florence, wandering through the Uffizi Gallery, marveling at the works of the Renaissance masters, and evenings enjoying the quiet serenity of the Arno River. With you, Marco. You’ve grown to trust him. He’s never made you uncomfortable, never had any intentions to take advantage of you, and knows all the best restaurants. 

But there’s always been a small, nagging doubt that you’ve pushed aside—a feeling that something isn’t quite right. You’ve ignored it, convincing yourself that you’re just being paranoid after everything you’ve been through. After all, he has been nothing but kind, always knowing the right thing to say, always showing up just when you need someone.

It isn’t until the two of you are exploring a quieter part of Florence, that the doubt flares into something more. You’re walking through an old, narrow alleyway, the kind that tourists rarely venture into, when Marco suggests you take a shortcut through a small, unmarked door in the side of a building.

“I found this place the last time I was here,” Marco says, his smile as easy as ever. “It’s a hidden gem, leads right to a beautiful courtyard. You’ll love it.”

You hesitate, something in his tone—or maybe it’s the way his eyes gleam just a little too brightly—sets off alarm bells in your mind. You’ve come to trust him though, haven’t you? You’ve traveled together for weeks, shared countless stories and laughs. Surely, he wouldn’t lead you into danger.

Still, as you step through the door, the darkened space beyond immediately feels wrong. The air is colder, damp, and the walls are lined with strange, unidentifiable equipment. You glance back at Marco, and that’s when you see it—the change in his expression. The warmth is gone, replaced by something cold and calculating.

Before you can react, you feel a sharp prick in your arm. Your vision blurs, and your body goes numb almost instantly. You stumble back, trying to push away, but your legs give out, and you collapse to the floor.

Marco looms over you, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a look of triumph. “Did you really think I didn’t know?” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a mutant, and you thought you could hide it from me?”

The world around you spins as the drug takes full effect, but you force your mind to stay focused. “What… why?” you manage to whisper, the betrayal cutting deep.

“Why?” He laughs, the sound harsh and devoid of any warmth. “Because mutants like you are worth a fortune. My clients pay top dollar for… research subjects. And you, my dear, are about to make me very, very rich.”

You try to move, to fight back, but your body refuses to respond. Panic rises in your chest as he kneels beside you, pulling out a small device that looks like a portable scanner. He runs it over you, and it emits a low hum as it registers your vital signs, confirming what he already knows. You’re weak. 

“You won’t get away with this,” you say.

“Oh, but I already have,” he replies with cruel satisfaction. “No one knows where you are. And even if they did, it’ll be too late by the time they find you.”

With the last bit of strength you can muster, you reach into your pocket, fingers trembling as you fumble with the X-Men communicator that Kitty gave you. His attention is momentarily distracted as he prepares a syringe filled with a clear liquid, and you seize the opportunity. You manage to pull out the communicator, your fingers barely able to grip it. Then, with a deep breath, you press the SOS button, the screen flashing to life.

You type in the message as quickly as you can, your vision blurring even more as the drug takes hold. 

Location: Florence. 

Message: Help.

Just as you hit send, Marco notices what you’re doing. His eyes widen in anger, and he grabs your wrist, yanking the communicator out of your hand. “You little—!” he snarls, but it’s too late. The message has already been sent.

His face contorts in rage as he slams the gadget against the ground, smashing it to pieces. He glares down at you, his hand tightening painfully around your wrist. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? But it doesn’t matter. They’ll never get here in time.”

Your strength is nearly gone, the drug pulling you into unconsciousness, but you manage one last defiant look. “You won’t win,” you whisper with the last of your energy.

Marco releases your wrist with a sneer, standing up and looking down at you with contempt again. “We’ll see about that,” he mutters before turning away, leaving you on the cold, hard floor as darkness overtakes you. 

You can only hope they—that Logan—will reach you in time.

—

The signal comes through during a meeting. A sudden, loud beep cuts through the room,  and everyone freezes, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the sound. To Kitty’s pocket. It’s the X-Men communicator, the one linked to your device. 

Logan’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he recognizes the tone. He’s on his feet before anyone else can react, his heart pounding in his chest. “What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice tense with urgency.

Kitty quickly pulls it out of her pocket, her eyes widening as she reads the message that’s flashed across the screen. Her face pales, and she looks up at the others, her voice trembling as she speaks. “It’s from her… Florence… Help.”

There’s a brief pause, maybe a second long in length, and then the room erupts into a flurry of movement. 

Chairs scrape against the floor as the team rises to their feet, already preparing for action. But Logan is the first to react, his face a mask of fury and determination. “I’m going,” he growls, already heading for the door.

“Logan, wait!” Scott steps forward, blocking Logan’s path with a firm hand on his chest. 

“Get out of my way, Summers,” He snarls, his voice filled with barely controlled rage. “I’m not waiting around while she’s in danger.”

“We can’t just rush in without a plan,” Scott insists, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Logan shoves the other mutant’s hand away, his eyes blazing with anger. “She sent an SOS, Scott! She needs help, and we’re wasting time standing here talking about it!”

The rest of the team watches the confrontation with anxious eyes, knowing that things could easily escalate. Logan’s been on edge for weeks, and the urgency of the situation—of you— has pushed him to the brink. 

“Logan,” Ororo interjects, “We understand how you feel, but we need to think this through. If this is a trap—”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a trap!” He snaps, his voice rising. “She’s part of our team! We can’t just leave her there!”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Scott tries to reason, but Logan isn’t having it.

“Then what the hell are you sayin’?” He demands, his frustration boiling over. “Why are we wasting time when we should be getting her out of there?”

There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence, and then it’s Rogue who steps forward, conflicted. “Logan… what if… what if she doesn’t want to see you?”

He freezes, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow could. He stares at Rogue, disbelief and anger warring in his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls.

Rogue swallows, her eyes filled with worry. “She left because she needed time, Logan. Because things between you two… they weren’t good. Maybe she—maybe she doesn’t want you to be the one to save her.”

Clenching his hands into fists, his body is taut with tension. “Fuck that!” he roars with a fierce, protective rage. “She’s part of our team! She sent that message to us, to the X-Men, because she needs our help. I don’t care what’s happened between us, I’m not leavin’ her there!”

The room falls silent, the weight of Logan’s words settling over everyone. They know Logan is right—she’s part of the team, and they can’t leave her behind. But they also know that the situation is more complicated than that.

Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he looks at Logan. “We’re not saying we shouldn’t go after her, Logan. We’re saying that you need to be prepared for whatever we might find when we get there. She might be in a bad place, and she might not be ready to face you.”

“I don’t care,” he says after a brief pause, his voice quieter now, but no less determined. “I’m going to get her out of there. Whether she wants to see me or not, I’m not lettin’ her go through this alone.”

Scott studies Logan for a long moment, then finally nods. “Alright. But we do this together, as a team.”

Logan nods, his jaw set in a grim line. “Fine. Let’s go.”

—

Your eyes snap open, the dim light of the room piercing your vision. You’re in a large, abandoned warehouse. Your head feels heavy, like it’s filled with cotton, and there’s a dull, throbbing pain at the base of your skull. As you try to move, you realize with a jolt of fear that you’re restrained, your arms and legs strapped tightly to a chair. Panic flares in your chest, and you struggle against the bonds, but they don’t budge.

And then you see him—Marco, standing a few feet away, watching you with a smirk that sends a chill down your spine. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, and you realize with horror that you’ve been caught, trapped in whatever twisted game he’s been playing.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, voice dripping with mock concern. “I was starting to wonder if I’d given you too much of the sedative. But it seems you’re tougher than I thought.”

You try to respond, but a gag in your mouth muffles your words, turning them into incoherent sounds. You glare at him your eyes burning with fury.

He only chuckles, clearly amused by your resistance. “Oh, don’t bother trying to speak. We wouldn’t want you calling for help, now would we? Though, I must say, I’m impressed you managed to send that little SOS before I caught on. Clever, but ultimately futile.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks you over, his expression turning cold. “You know, I’ve dealt with a lot of mutants in my time, but there’s something special about you. Something… unique.” He reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Too bad your powers won’t do you any good here. The drug I gave you should keep you nice and powerless for the foreseeable future.”

Straining against the bonds, you continue to try to break free, but he drug in your system dulls your abilities, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable. All you can do is stare at him with hatred as he continues to taunt you.

“Such fire in your eyes,” Marco murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s a shame you’ll never see the light of day again. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure your abilities are put to good use.”

He lets go of your chin, his hand trailing down to your shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Now, let’s see what we can do to make you a little more… compliant.”

Just as he reaches into his coat pocket, presumably for another syringe, a sudden, loud crash echoes through the warehouse. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass fills the air, followed by the unmistakable hum of energy blasts and the heavy thud of boots on the concrete floor.

The X-Men have arrived.

Marco’s eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger. He spins around, barking orders at the security guards scattered throughout the warehouse. “Stop them! Don’t let them get near her!”

The guards rush forward, weapons drawn, but they’re no match for your friends. The familiar sounds of battle flood your ears—Rogue’s powerful punches, Scott’s optic blasts, and Storm’s lightning crackling through the air. You struggle against your restraints again, desperate to free yourself, but it’s no use. 

Then, you catch a glimpse of Logan. He’s fighting his way toward you, his claws out, slicing through anyone who gets in his way. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes meet his, and you can see the raw determination in his gaze. He’s coming for you.

But just as he takes a step forward, something changes. He hesitates. You can’t hear what he’s thinking, but you can see the conflict on his face—the way he seems to second-guess himself, the way his steps falter. Your heart sinks as you realize he’s unsure, almost as if he's torn between wanting to save you and fearing that you don’t want him to.

In that split second of hesitation, Rogue swoops in, landing beside you with a determined look on her face. She doesn’t waste any time, using her strength to tear through the restraints that bind you. “We’ve got you, sugah,” she says, her voice steady and reassuring as she pulls the gag from your mouth. “You’re safe now.”

You nod, your throat too dry and your body too weak to speak. Your muscles scream in protest as you try to stand, but she quickly wraps an arm around you, helping you to your feet. You’re shaky, your body still reeling from the effects of the drug, but you’re free. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan still standing there, his eyes locked on you, his expression unreadable. He wanted to save you. He wanted to be the one to pull you out of that nightmare, but something held him back.

Rogue helps you toward the exit as the rest of the team continues to subdue the guards and Marco. You lean heavily on her, your legs barely able to support your weight, but you force yourself to keep moving. 

And when everyone else has back in the jet, hugging you and comforting you, you look over to Logan, who sits far away, on the opposite side, refusing to meet your gaze. 

—

Returning to the mansion feels like stepping back into a familiar, comforting embrace. You missed the soft, warm bed in your room, the quiet serenity of the gardens, and the comforting presence of your friends. It's been a few days since the whole ordeal in Florence, and the drug has finally worked its way out of your system. Your strength has returned, and physically, you feel like yourself again. The mansion, too, seems unchanged—still the safe haven you’ve always known.

But as the days pass, you begin to notice that while many things have returned to normal, some things have not. You’ve seen most of your friends, their faces lighting up when they see you, their hugs tight and full of relief. There have been quiet conversations and laughter, shared meals in the kitchen, and moments that remind you why this place is home.

Except, there’s one person you haven’t seen. Logan.

His absence is like a shadow that follows you wherever you go. You’ve felt his presence in the mansion—heard his voice in the halls, the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards—but he’s kept his distance. He hasn’t sought you out, hasn’t tried to talk to you, and that stings more than you want to admit.

You’ve tried to stay strong, to remind yourself of the resilience you found during your time away. You’ve reminded yourself over and over that you don’t need anyone else to validate your worth, that you can stand on your own. Yet the longer Logan avoids you, the harder it is to hold on to that strength. The old wounds, the ones you thought had begun to heal, start to ache again, and you can’t help but wonder if anything has really changed at all.

More often than not, you find yourself retreating to the front lawn. The sun is warm on your skin as you lie down in the grass, a book in hand. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of life inside the mansion create a peaceful background, and for a moment, you manage to lose yourself in the pages of your book.

Still, even here, in the sanctuary of the garden, the thoughts you’ve been trying to push aside keep creeping back in. The memory of Florence, of Logan’s hesitation, lingers like a bitter aftertaste. You replay the moment over and over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why he stopped, why he didn’t come for you.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the shadow that falls across your page until a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

The voice startles you, and you jerk slightly, looking up to see Logan standing above you. His expression is guarded, as if he’s not sure how you’ll react to his presence. There’s a tautness to his posture, a stiffness that you recognize all too well. 

For a moment, you just stare at him, caught off guard by the suddenness of his appearance. He’s as rugged and intimidating as ever, but there’s something different in his eyes—something a tad bit softer. You close your book, sitting up slowly as you meet his gaze. The question that’s been gnawing at you since Florence rises to the surface, and you know you can’t keep it inside any longer.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “In Florence?”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, his gaze shifting to the trees in the distance. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, thick with unspoken words. 

You just watch him, waiting for an explanation, but there’s a part of you that’s already bracing for disappointment. You’ve been here before, waiting for Logan to decide what happens next, to take the lead. And you’re tired of it. You’re tired of being the one left in the dark, of being the one who has to wait for him to be ready.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. “I… I hesitated,” he admits huskily, almost in a growl. “I wanted to save you. Hell, I was going to. But then… I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

His confession hangs in the air, and you feel a mix of emotions—surprise, confusion, and sadness. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t realized that his hesitation was rooted in something so painfully human.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?” you ask softly, searching his face for answers.

Logan finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes takes your breath away. “Because of everything that’s happened between us. Because I pushed you away. I hurt you, and I thought… maybe you’d be better off if it wasn’t me.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his reasoning. “Logan, this can’t keep being about what you think is best,” you begin. “And it’s not about who saves who. It’s about being there when it counts. You were there. You came for me.”

He doesn’t have a response to that, at least not right away. He looks down at the ground, his fists unclenching, his shoulders slumping even further. It’s like he’s carrying the weight of everything he’s done, everything he’s failed to do, and it’s crushing him. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally manages to get out. “For everything.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I know I’ve messed up,” he continues. “I know I haven’t been there for you like I should’ve. But I’m here now. And if you’ll let me… I want to try to make things right.”

You know you should be happy—this is everything you’ve wanted to hear from him for so long. But it’s also too much, too late. The doubt, the pain, it can’t just disappear with a snap of your fingers.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you admit. 

There’s pain on his face. “I get it,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not going to happen overnight. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes, if it means I can earn your trust back.”

“I need time. I need time to figure out where I stand, and where you stand with me.”

He nods slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground again. “Take all the time you need,” he says quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I appreciate that,” With a small nod, you stand up, brushing the grass off your clothes. “I need time,” you repeat, more for your own benefit than his.

“And you’ve got it,” Logan replies. “As much as you need.”

—

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. You focus on yourself, on healing the wounds that were reopened during your conversation with Logan. It feels strange, being the one who needs space, but you know it’s necessary. You find things to take your mind off him: you train more, read more, spend more time with Rogue, Kitty, or Remy. It’s nice.

But Logan… Logan doesn’t give up. He knows you need time, and he respects that. He doesn’t push, doesn’t pressure you to make a decision, but he makes it clear through his actions that he hasn’t forgotten about you, and more importantly, that he isn’t going anywhere.

It starts with the small things—things so subtle that you almost don’t notice at first. You probably wouldn’t have suspected anything if you hadn’t known the kind of person he is. He’s nothing if not persistent. He knows you better than you realize—the rift he created after Jean’s death muddling with your memory—and he uses that knowledge to quietly, almost imperceptibly, work his way back into your life.

In the mornings, you wake up to find your favorite snacks waiting for you in the kitchen, carefully placed where you’d be sure to see them. He never mentions it, never takes credit, but you know it’s him. It’s in the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye as you take a bite, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never makes a big deal out of it—just a quiet, unspoken gesture that says, I’m thinking of you.

Then there are the late-night training sessions. You go down to the Danger Room or the gym, hoping to clear your mind with a bit of solitary exercise, only to find Logan already there. At first, you’re tempted to leave, to find somewhere else to work out, but something in his demeanor stops you. He doesn’t approach you, doesn’t speak unless you initiate it. Instead, he just… exists beside you, his presence steady and reassuring, like a rock in the storm.

It’s in these moments that you begin to see a different side of Logan—one that’s patient, understanding, and perhaps a little unsure of himself. He follows your lead, mirroring your exercises or silently spotting you during weightlifting, always attentive to your needs without ever making you feel pressured or overwhelmed. He’s just there, offering his support in the quietest, most understated way possible.

And then there are the little surprises in your room—small, thoughtful gestures that you can’t help but notice. A favorite book you’d mentioned in passing suddenly appears on your nightstand, its pages pristine and waiting for you to dive into. The time-worn leather straps on your gear are suddenly replaced with new ones that fit perfectly, the stitching unmistakably done by Logan’s hand. Even your plants, the ones you’d worried would wither away while you were on a mission, seem to thrive in your absence, the soil freshly watered and the leaves turned toward the sun.

He never asks for thanks, never draws attention to what he’s doing. It’s all done quietly, behind the scenes, as if he’s afraid that if you notice too much, you might push him away. But you do notice. How could you not?

At first, you try to ignore it, telling yourself that these gestures don’t change anything, that they’re just a way for Logan to assuage his guilt. You tell yourself that he’s just doing this because he feels bad, because he wants to make up for the past, not because he actually cares. You’ve built walls around your heart for a reason, and you’re not ready to let them down just because he’s being nice.

But over time, those small gestures begin to chip away at those walls, brick by brick. You start to realize that Logan isn’t just going through the motions—he’s really paying attention, noticing the little things that make you who you are. It isn’t just about the snacks or the books or the plants—it’s about the way he remembers the details of your life, the things that matter to you, the things that make you feel seen and understood.

After a particularly long and stressful day, you return to your room exhausted, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget the world for a while. But when you walk in, you find a small bouquet of wildflowers sitting on your nightstand, the beautiful colors a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that have been swirling in your mind all day. There’s no note, no explanation—there never is—but you know who left them.

You just stand there, staring at the flowers, your heart squeezing in your chest. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet it means so much. You’d forgotten that Logan knew how much you love wildflowers—you’d mentioned it once, years ago. The way they’re resilient, thriving even in the harshest conditions, blooming where others wouldn’t. It’s as if he’s telling you that he sees that strength in you, that he admires it.

And it’s then, in the quiet of your room, surrounded by the small, thoughtful gestures that Logan has left behind, that you realize something. This isn’t just about making up for the past. Logan is showing you, in the only way he knows how, that he wants this. Wants you.

He's finally picked up the pieces of him that fell apart after Jean’s death, and he is willing to pick up the pieces of you that fell apart after his rejection.

So, one evening, months after that fateful conversation on the lawn, you find yourself standing in the common room, staring at the fireplace, lost in thought. The mansion is quiet, the rest of the team either out on a mission or asleep. It’s just you and the flickering flames, the soft crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

But when you hear footsteps behind you, heavy and deliberate, you know instantly who it is. Without turning, you can sense his presence, the way he moves with that quiet confidence, the way the air seems to shift when he is near. Logan has always had a way of grounding you, even when you don’t want him to.

He walks up beside you, stopping just short of touching you, his warmth radiating in the small space between your bodies. He doesn’t say anything at first, doesn’t ask why you’re here or try to force a conversation. He just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting patiently, giving you the time you need. It’s something you’ve come to appreciate about him in recent months—his newfound ability to just be, without pushing or demanding more than you’re ready to give.

"I’ve been thinking," you say finally, your voice soft, as you continue to gaze into the flames.

"Yeah?" Logan asks, his tone careful, as if he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.

You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You’ve been… different. Doing all these little things… I see them, you know."

Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long time, you see hope there. "I just wanted you to know that I care. That I’m sorry," he says, with so much emotion. “You were never a burden to me.”

You swallow hard. "It’s hard for me, Logan," you admit, "I’ve been hurt before, and I’m scared. Scared that if I let myself love you again, you’ll just… break me."

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "I’d never hurt you again," he says, "I’d rather cut off my own damn hand than hurt you. The past is the past, and you are my future."

That’s enough to make your walls crumble completely. You know, deep down, that Logan is telling the truth. That he’s willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let him.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you let your actions speak for you. You close the distance between you, standing on your toes as you press your lips to his in a gentle, tentative kiss. Logan freezes for a split second, as if he can’t believe this is really happening, but then he kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close, holding you as if he never wants to let go.

The kiss is slow, tender, full of everything that has been building between you for so long. It isn’t just a kiss—it’s a promise, a commitment to try again, to rebuild what has been broken. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling with his, you rest your head on his shoulder. "I’m still scared," you whisper.

"I know," Logan replies, his arms tightening around you. "But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll take this slow, darlin’. Whatever you need."

You nod. "Okay."

Logan smiles then, a real, genuine smile that makes your heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in years. It’s a smile full of relief, of gratitude, of love—a smile that tells you that he understands just how much this moment means, just how much you’re giving him by letting him back into your heart.

—

The time that follows is a slow, steady journey of rebuilding trust. Logan is true to his word—he is patient, understanding, and surprisingly tender in ways you hadn’t expected. The small gestures continue—coffee waiting for you in the morning, a gentle hand on your back during missions, quiet moments of companionship where no words are needed.

You can feel the doubts you’ve been holding onto slowly begin to fade. Each time Logan shows up for you, each time he puts your needs above his own, it chips away at the fear that has kept you guarded for so long. It’s in the way he listens when you talk, truly listens, as if every word you say matters. It’s in the way he looks at you—not with the same fury he once had, but with a steady, enduring affection that speaks of something deeper.

With Jean, he loved her because she was his soulmate, she was who the universe destined him to be with. He loved her because that’s what he thought he had to do.

With you, he has a choice. He doesn’t need to acknowledge the bond, but he chooses to. He chooses to everyday and he’ll never stop. He loves you because he wants to, not because he has to.

One evening, you find yourself sitting on the mansion’s porch watching the sunset. Logan joins you without a word, sitting close enough that your shoulders brush. 

“You’ve been quiet today,” he says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I’ve just been thinking,” you reply, leaning your head on his shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes about how far you’ve come in trusting him again.

“’Bout what?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“About us,” you say, your voice steady. “About how things have changed. How… how good they’ve been.”

Logan’s hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that feels so natural, so right. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echo, squeezing his hand. “I’m not scared anymore, Logan. Not like I was.”

He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. “You sure?”

You nod, smiling softly. “I’m sure. You’ve shown me that this bond means something to you, that you’re not going to hurt me. And… I want this. I want us.”

Logan’s face lights up with so much love, that it takes your breath away. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad, darlin’. Because I want us too. More than anything.”

—

It isn’t long before the rest of the X-Men begin to notice the change in Logan as well. At first, it’s subtle—small things like the way he looks at you during briefings, or the way he seems to be more patient, more relaxed when you’re around. But over time, it becomes impossible to ignore.

During a training session in the Danger Room, you’re paired with Logan for a simulated mission. The others watch as Logan moves with you in perfect sync, his focus not just on the mission but on you—making sure you’re safe, supporting you when needed, and trusting you completely. It’s a far cry from the Logan they had seen when he was in mourning, where his moves were rash and careless.

After the session, as you and Logan leave the Danger Room, you catch sight of Ororo and Scott exchanging a look, the kind of look that speaks volumes, full of surprise and a touch of amusement.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you approach them.

Ororo smiles warmly, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Nothing, just… noticing how good you two are together.”

Scott nods in agreement, his expression softening as he glances at Logan. “Yeah, it’s… different, finally seeing him like this. In a good way.”

Logan shrugs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Just that it’s nice to see you happy, Logan,” Ororo says gently. “Really happy.”

Logan looks at you then, his smile growing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah. It is.”

More members of the team begin to notice the change in Logan as time goes on. Rogue, who has always had a soft spot for him, comments on how he seems more at ease, less burdened by the weight of his past. Hank, ever the observer, points out how Logan’s demeanor has shifted—less brooding, more open. Even Charles, who has seen Logan through his darkest times, pulls you aside one day to express his approval.

“I must say,” Charles says, his tone warm and approving, “I haven’t seen Logan like this in a very long time. Whatever you two have managed to sort out, it’s working.���

And it is. Slowly but surely, the wounds that had once held you back have healed. The doubts that had kept you from fully embracing your relationship with Logan have faded, replaced by a deep, abiding love. It isn’t just the little gestures anymore—it’s the way Logan makes you feel seen, heard, and cherished in a way that no one else ever has.

—

“I never thought we’d get here,” you admit one night whilst looking up at the stars.

Logan looks at you, his expression tender. “Neither did I,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “But I’m damn glad we did.”

You smile, leaning into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I love you, Logan. And I trust you. Completely.”

His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold onto the moment, to hold onto you. “I love you too, darlin’. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.”

You know what he’s trying to say. So without thinking, you reach up and cup his face, drawing him closer until your lips are just a breath away from his. “Show me,” you whisper, your voice low and filled with desire.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. He closes the small gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he’s savoring the feel of you. 

You can feel the heat between you building, the kiss growing more fervent as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, then into his hair. Brown. 

His hands slide up your back, one hand tangling in your hair as he angles your head, deepening the kiss further until you’re both breathless.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting against each other’s, you’re both panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he holds you close.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs. “I never thought I’d get my happy ending, but here you are… and I’m never lettin’ you go.”

You smile, feeling the last remnants of pain melt away, replaced by a certainty that this is where you’re meant to be. “And I’m never leaving,” you whisper back, sealing your words with another kiss that quickly reignites the fire between you.

This kiss is hungrier, more urgent, as if you both need to make up for lost time. Logan’s hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine, his touch igniting a fire in your core.

That night, you lose yourself in him, in the way he tastes, in the way he makes love to you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. Because this time, you’re not just in love—you’re in love with a man who loves you back, fully and completely. 

And that makes all the difference.

----

a/n: i love you if you made it this far. please check out my new series The Feeling's Mutual

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[talaok]

Giving up

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you

Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.

a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)

Part 1

"did you do something to your hair?"

Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.

"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"

His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh

"someone's in a good mood today"

"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"

Tommy's interest was only piqued more.

there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...

something was definitely going on.

"Where are you going?"

Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare

"none of your business"

Oh he knew what was going on...

"Who is she?"

"Tommy-"

"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"

Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.

He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.

"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"

But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.

"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"

What in the actual fuck?

Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.

"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak

"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur

"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"

"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"

"Tommy I know she's young bu-"

"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"

__ __

"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"

You smiled at his words, shaking your head

"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,

He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.

"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.

"Uhm- sure"

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.

Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.

Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.

You watched him as he sipped on the glass.

"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"

He damn near choked.

Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.

He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"

"And?"

You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face

pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes

"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"

Oh for fuck's sake

"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.

"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"

This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.

"ok"

__ __ __

As it turns out, in many different ways.

Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?

He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-

or so you thought.

"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips

"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"

He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.

What a tease

__ __ __

"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"

For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.

You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...

It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.

"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,

He held his breath for a moment

"'s nothing babygirl"

"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"

"In your... bedroom?"

"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.

Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.

You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.

And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.

The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.

He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.

"Everything seems right"

"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"

He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.

"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.

He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"

"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"

You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.

"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-

He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.

"would you like to have sex with me or not?"

You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat

"this- this ain't really fair sugar"

A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"

Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.

"You're y-young baby-"

Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.

"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"

He cursed under his breath

"I just... I don't understand"

A breathy laugh escaped you

"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"

That earned you a chuckle

"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"

You smiled as you looked up at him,

you'd never met a man so sweet

"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"

Fucking damn it

How could he ever say no after that?

With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...

"So?"

He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.

"yes"

That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.

yes

Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.

His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.

A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.

He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,

making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-

and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.

You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.

You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.

Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.

Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.

He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.

You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

"take off your clothes"

You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.

The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.

You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.

"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.

"What?" you laughed

"I-I don't even know"

You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.

He was already addicted.

In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-

His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.

He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.

"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"

Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.

"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"

"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"

You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.

"Fuck"

"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"

Jesus fuck

Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.

You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.

He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.

Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.

Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths

"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"

His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.

"you ok?"

His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.

"Joel?"

He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.

"d-don't move"

You smiled as you promised "I won't"

God this was fucking embarrassing.

He'd spent three days training.

And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.

He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.

He was so fucked

"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"

"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"

Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"

he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.

"take all the time you need"

And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.

He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.

There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.

Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.

"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized

You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence

"You look..."

Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.

"you're beautiful"

Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.

"so are you, Joel"

And that was that.

His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.

A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.

Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined

The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.

He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.

"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.

You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.

"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.

"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.

the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.

The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.

Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.

But he was nothing if not a gentleman,

You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.

His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.

Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.

Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit

"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"

You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming

"Inside"

It wasn't even a question

"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"

"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"

Good Christ and heaven

"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"

You were already seeing stars as he spoke

"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"

A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.

You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.

He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-

His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,

until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.

He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.

A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"

And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.

@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu

[oceanicwriting]

the rabbit.

summary: after the battle of hogwarts, you decided to leave school and live among muggles to escape from all the memories battling in your mind. it's been five years, you have a job and a small house on the outskirts of the city. for a couple of months now, a little black rabbit has been visiting you almost every night, appearing between the trees and disappearing during the day. what's the secret?

pairing(s): rabbit!animagus!theodore nott x fem!reader

a/n: i know that theo's patronus is a fox/lynx, and if he was an animagus, that would be his animal form. still i like to think that his animagus is a bunny... english isn't my first language! please, be nice

+18 smut, cowgirl, masturbation (mostly fem receiving), reference to oral sex (fem receiving), cursing, mention of war

ㅤㅤㅤ there he was again. that little animal that has started visiting you since your last birthday, peering into the kitchen through the glass back door, patiently waiting for you to let him in. when you go to open it, the animal comes hopping in and settles down next to the burning fireplace. you had forgotten how cold it is outside.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you want to eat something? —you ask, looking at all the vegetables you’ve cut up for dinner—. maybe… would you like a carrot?

ㅤㅤㅤyou already knew, from all the other times he’d wander around the house, that he doesn’t like carrots. every time you offered one to him, he’d wrinkle his nose for less than a second and move his mouth, making a small sound. at first, it seemed strange to you that he could understand, but you got used to it over time.

ㅤㅤㅤyou were once a student at hogwarts, a prestigious magic school, although now you live like a real muggle on the outskirts of the city. after the war and that last battle, everything had changed for you, taking courage to leave school, get a job in a non-wizard bookstore, and live like a simple mortal. every afternoon you come home to read a book, take care of the garden, or cook dinner if there are no leftovers. the magic that hogwarts had shown you no longer existed.

ㅤㅤㅤmany times, you had visitors from the magical world, friends, family, or teachers with some mission in the area. each and every one of them tried to convince you to return to that immense and hidden place. you couldn't do it. even if you tried, you knew that those memories full of nightmares and fear would not leave your cursed mind.

ㅤㅤㅤalso, there was a little black rabbit that came to you every night like it needed your company. how could you just abandon it?

ㅤㅤㅤ—should i find you a name? —you question, caressing the animal's back. your glass of wine and the book you're reading for the tenth time rest on the floor, while the little animal rests on your outstretched legs—. you can't keep calling yourself a little rabbit, right? a name...

ㅤㅤㅤyou look around the room for some idea. the paintings, decorations, and flowers that you yourself had cut from the yard. none of that seems to catch your attention, except for the jewel with a green stone embedded in a silver ring. even the animal seems to have an idea of ​​what that means, moving its paws in affirmation.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what do you think of teddy? —and looking into his deep and incomprehensible blue eyes, a familiar reaction runs through your body—. teddy...

ㅤㅤㅤand just with that, you should have seen it coming.

ㅤㅤㅤit was friday afternoon, the sun about to set between the mountains behind your house and the icy wind shaking the treetops. your hands are dirty, and while you put the tools in a wooden box, you think about dinner.

ㅤㅤㅤsuddenly, between the bushes behind you, you hear the movement of the leaves. a little scared, you turn around to notice how teddy appears weakly jumping. at first, everything looked fine, but you managed to notice that his hind leg bothered him in a strange way. you don't manage to take a single step when the body of the small animal disappears and in its place is the body of a man. a man you know very well.

ㅤㅤㅤ—ted-theodore nott? —one of his legs has a large bleeding wound, and the black cape is halfway on his shoulders—. no...

ㅤㅤㅤyour heart begins to beat hard, unable to approach his motionless body or run as far away as you can. you don't even know which option you want to follow. his eyes are glued to yours as you understand everything about that magical rabbit that had accompanied you so many nights. he had always been teddy, he had always been theodore nott.

ㅤㅤㅤthere were many memories in your mind that override the words you know he is saying, unable to hear him or put your breathing in order. after all those years, after having fought against him, after having missed him and hated him. theodore nott was right in front of you as a reminder of all the lives you saw go in your own hands.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need help. i need you.

ㅤㅤㅤlistening to him talk was even worse for your fragile heart. the little sanity left in your body was in your hands, and you can't concentrate when the blood from his leg continues to stain the dying grass.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you can't be here. you have to go, theodore. i-i...

ㅤㅤㅤ—bella, please...

ㅤㅤㅤ—go away!

ㅤㅤㅤhe looks at you with a magnetic force and, letting out a small moan as he stands up, walks up to you. it's only a second that you have to escape, but you can't do anything. your entire body reacts to the simple presence of his person, his gaze, his touch, and his way of lightening the air.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need you to help me —he says, caressing your cheek so slowly that you feel your body dying at that very moment—. i will leave if you ask me, but i need your help now. you are the best healer in the magical world.

ㅤㅤㅤwith your breathing ragged, denying the part of your brain that asks to run away, you help theodore enter and lie down on the couch. from some drawers in the living room you take out a small box with herbs and elements to make ointments that will help heal the wound.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you have to keep this on the wound. here —you say, passing a healing blade to press the wound—. i must cut the energy to enchant the bands.

ㅤㅤㅤas you lower the energy of the entire house from the basement, light some candles, and go back upstairs, the silence is overwhelming. with a potion, ointment, and enchantment, theodore is much calmer now.

ㅤㅤㅤyou still can't stop the rapid pace of your heart.

ㅤㅤㅤ—now you can go. —theodore looks at you from head to toe, trying to remember your figure into some part of his mind—. you spent months coming here, treating me like a fool. i really can't believe it.

ㅤㅤㅤ—would you have let me in? —he questions, getting up from the couch with a grimace of pain. instantly, you point your wand in his direction—. we both know you wouldn't. i came looking for you, i found you and you expect me to leave. after all?

ㅤㅤㅤ—theo... please.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you want me to believe that you didn't think about me? i know you don't. i miss you, love. these five years have been nothing but torture since you left, and i... i need you.

ㅤㅤㅤyou deny, trying to erase the force that pushes the tears to your reddened cheeks. your hand starts to shake because, after all, theodore is always right. even if you wanted to escape your other life, to erase his absence or memories, you could never do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you still with them? —you ask, in the middle of tears and afraid that the answer is affirmative—. you are still by their side, right?

ㅤㅤㅤ—i didn't come for that.

ㅤㅤㅤtheodore takes your wrist to take the wand away. his other hand travels from your legs to your back, tickling every area that his large, rough hand goes over.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you have no idea how much i missed you.

ㅤㅤㅤhe gently pushes you against a furniture next to the fireplace and with a click lights the wood you had put in the morning. his hand knocks everything on the table to the floor, taking little care of the creaking of the figurines or books.

ㅤㅤㅤ—haven't you missed me? —you can't talk. his hands have slipped under your shirt, and he presses between your legs as if he couldn't wait to feel you close—. i've seen you think of me every time you look at the amulets i gave you, reading my books and caressing their pages as if they were my body. do you think i don't know about all the photos you have saved? if you had... if you had the slightest idea that we were in the same place.

ㅤㅤㅤhis lips crash against yours with such overwhelming need that you can't help but follow the movement of his mouth. his lips demanding more, squeezing your back to join his chest to yours and his hand fitting perfectly on your waist make all kinds of emotions blossom inside you.

ㅤㅤㅤyour clothes fly in all directions, and theodore's kisses begin to descend from your cheeks to your collarbone, sucking and marking your neck so that you don't forget who you belong to. the sensation of his wet lips is so overwhelming and exquisite that you can't keep your moans under control. you were going to lose your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'm sorry —he whispers, then noticing the scar on your left arm—. i'm so sorry.

ㅤㅤㅤthe scar measures almost fifteen centimeters, going from your forearm to the beginning of your palm. he had made that one himself. the simple memory terrifies him, but not enough to make him lose his mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ—theo, that's already in the past.

ㅤㅤㅤ—no, love. —his hands caress your hair gently—. i know how much i hurt you, how much suffering it all caused you, and why you had to leave. and i'm so sorry. the last thing i wanted was to have you away from me...

ㅤㅤㅤafter the battle at hogwarts, your entire world had fallen to pieces. theodore would never be the person you fell in love with as a teenager again, and after the war, everything became even more blurry. you can only remember the nightmare in which hundreds of classmates fell into a dark hole without being able to save them. everything broke when it was theodore nott who fell without you being able to catch him.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i love you —you mumble, looking into his bright, amazed eyes—. i love you, theodore. i didn't have the chance to...

ㅤㅤㅤhe didn't want to hear it, not when you looked so pretty against the firelight. unable to not touch you any longer, his palms tighten on your legs to sit, with you in his lap, on the couch. your hands begin to unbutton his white blouse, while your mouths click in an exchange of saliva.

ㅤㅤㅤyour hips begin to move at the need for friction, seeking to feel the bulge that is getting harder and harder in his pants. theodore growls every now and then at the sensation of your movement and, without resisting much longer, rips off your underwear in one go.

ㅤㅤㅤ—devilishly perfect and ready for me. —his gaze runs over your body as if he's trying not to forget it again—. were you waiting for me?

ㅤㅤㅤ—y-you have no i-idea... —you try to say, but the wetness of his mouth catching one of your nipples and his hand squeezing the other doesn't allow you to formulate anything clearly—. t-theo...

ㅤㅤㅤyour moans, which had been whispered innocently, intensified much more at the intrusion of his free hand against your clitoris. your nails dig into his shoulders, and even though you try not to move your hips against the sensation, you can't stay still.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't move. shit.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod, biting your lip to try to obey the order.

ㅤㅤㅤ—theo... —you whisper, looking him straight in the eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what's wrong, babe?

ㅤㅤㅤhis fingers playing with your pussy couldn't be more precise, complicating communication.

ㅤㅤㅤ—tell me, darling. or can't you talk?

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need more. much more. —the evil smile that spreads on his lips leaves you breathless—. ​​please.

ㅤㅤㅤhe takes your jaw to direct your mouth in a messy kiss that lasts less than you wanted, but everything gets much better after. stopping massaging your clit, he brings two fingers to his mouth, licking lasciviously and deeply. how could you avoid smiling at such an image? theodore, for his part, can only think that if he were an animal he would have looked for a way to sink his cock into you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you like what you see? —you nod strongly, eager and needy—. let's see how much you can take, shall we?

ㅤㅤㅤhis fingers, thanks to your own juices, slide without problem inside you. the warm walls of your interior feel like heaven for theodore's fingers, who doesn't ask for permission or approval to start moving his hand, curling his fingers to make you tremble and caressing every corner he reaches to hear you moan loudly.

ㅤㅤㅤhis other hand caresses your cheek with his thumb, erasing the small tears of pleasure that have run down your cheekbones.

ㅤㅤㅤyour body throbs everywhere, full of desire and intoxicated by the brown-haired boy's blue gaze. theodore was fascinated by the way you pressed yourself, splashing some of your own fluids on his clean pants and moaning shamelessly. he loved the way your tits moved with you and how your hair fell over your shoulders delicately. so fucking perfect that he could devour you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i-i'm going to cum.

ㅤㅤㅤ—no, did you think so?

ㅤㅤㅤwithout warning his fingers leave your interior, leaving a void that is quickly replaced by the beautiful sight in front of you. theodore brings his fingers to his mouth and, with his other hand, unbuttons his pants. you had forgotten how big and long he was.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you taste so fucking good, sweetheart. do you want to feel it as much as i do? tell me you hadn't forgotten...

ㅤㅤㅤyour right hand makes its way from his abdomen to his cock, spreading the precum on the tip of his length. theodore can't stifle the hoarse moan that escapes his throat at the feeling of your soft hands going up and down.

ㅤㅤㅤ—enough playing —he says, pushing your hand away and taking your hips to position you better—. i need to be inside you, now.

ㅤㅤㅤ—w-wait theo —you mumble, feeling him make his way between your wet folds—. n-no...

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need you to take it all, love. i need to bury myself in you or i'll go crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤhis words manage to relax you a little more and he, still holding your waist, pulls you down by surprise. the gasp makes you whimper, but theodore can't control himself when you wrap him up so tightly.

ㅤㅤㅤwith the help of your legs and the grip tightening on your hips you can go up and down while his hips meet yours when they push up. the sound of your skin slapping against his, moans, groans, and creaks of the couch might have been enough to make you lose your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ—t-theodore. more...

ㅤㅤㅤhe starts to trace kisses on your torso and says—: asking for more when you get tighter and tighter, aren't you?

ㅤㅤㅤyour synchronized movements begin to become disordered by the explosive sensation building up in your sexes. theodore helps you in the last thrusts against his cock and it happens as unexpectedly as his exit from inside you. both of you exploding against each other, mixing juices in his lap.

ㅤㅤㅤtheodore stays hidden on your neck for a while, kissing softly and calming his breathing. when he stops hiding, he dedicates himself to watching you for a while longer, loaded with lust and desire.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i love you —he says, and taking your legs, he spins you around on the couch to get on top of you—. that's why i'm not done, mia bellissima ragazza.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 3 ] || [ Chapter 5 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 4: John?

The lads sat in the common room of their floor at the base. Gaz and Soap had just finished a round of Gran Turismo on the PS4 they had set up, while Ghost sat at a table in the corner on his work laptop.

“Ye think the Captain’s married?” Soap mused aloud once he set down his controller on the coffee table.

“What kind of question-” Gaz quipped in confusion as he turned to look at Soap.

“He never talks about a missus Price...” Soap explained. “or second mister…” He added.

“That’s not a question you want the answer to.” Ghost said in a dismissive tone from his corner.

“Why not L.T.?” The Scot grumbled.

“People’s lives are private for a reason, Johnny.” Ghost said with a shrug and a tired look.

“Ye, but the Captain’s not like you, L.T.” Soap retorted with a chuckle.

“If anything, he’s worse, Johnny.” Gaz remarked as he looked at the two other men. “Simon’s reserved but Captain Price is pretty open.... except for that side of his.”

Soap went silent for a long moment, seeming to ponder what the other two were saying.

Then, the Scot shook his head. “If he was married, he’d be easier to deal with, I reckon.” He grumbled.  “And I think I’ve heard of him going out and getting laid before.” He added. “Last year, especially.”

“You’ve heard that too?” Gaz asked as he bounced a bit in his seat and straightened up, intrigued. “Fuckin’ hell, I thought it was just me. I’ve been dying trying to keep my mouth shut about it!” Gaz added.

“So d’ye think he hasn’t gotten laid lately, then?” Soap asked. “He’s been bloody moody since early last year with Shepherd and Graves…” He added.

“Oh, he definitely has a major case of blue balls.” Ghost remarked, drawing both the other men’s attention to him and causing their jaws to drop.

“L.T.!” Soap said with a surprised chuckle. “That’s bad of you! You’re not being the Captain’s good ol’ boy…” He joked.

“Oh, piss off. Just saying. It’s obvious the boss’ pent up.” Ghost remarked. 

“I say we get him laid.” Soap remarked with an impish expression.

“And how do you suggest we do that? We hire him a prostitute?” Gaz asked with raised brows.

“No? Obviously not!” Soap said with a head shake. 

“Good, can’t imagine the Captain appreciating that very much.” Gaz added.

“No, but we’ve gotta think of something! He’s impossible to deal with.” Soap remarked.

“I’ve told ‘im to his face and he asn’t done shit to fix it yet.” Ghost remarked from the corner.

“You’re kiddin’? L.T. you told him to get laid?!” Soap gasped in surprise.

“No, I’ve told ‘im to get ‘is ‘ead on straight.” The Mancunian quipped and shrugged, turning his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“What about a dating app profile?” Gaz suggested and the Mancunian and the Scot both turned to look at Gaz with intrigued eyes.

“I’m getting my spare phone!” Soap announced as he got up and rushed out of the room.

“He has a second phone?” Gaz asked Ghost who simply shrugged.

-

It took almost an hour and a half and a few beers in their systems (thank God they were on break for the evening), but eventually tey had set up a fake profile for Price.

Sure, the pictures were grainy at best, but they worked well-enough. Courtesy of Soap having a habit of taking covert pictures for his snapchat and sometimes catching Price in them... (and other times just taking pictures of the man directly).

It had been mostly Soap and Gaz doing the work, however when it came down to writing the bio, Ghost gave quite the helpful input… By the time they were done, it genuinely looked like it had been Price writing it.

The lads high-fived each other. Even Ghost joined in! He looked to be in a good mood… Maybe it was the beer, or maybe something he was doing on his phone. Gaz had spotted him texting someone and chuckling to himself.

As Soap began swiping mindlessly across all the pictures of people on the Swiping page, Gaz sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.

“People are going to read the part on the bio that says we are not Price, right? Because I don’t want ‘em to feel like we’re catfishing.” Gaz remarked.

“Don’t worry! If they don’t, we’ll unmatch!” Soap announced as he kept moving his finger repeatedly and quickly to the right. He was liking everyone, in order to get a fairly good sample size for Price. They didn’t know what kind of person the Captain liked after all…

Just as Soap’s finger is slowing down due to the amounts of profiles he liked… He spots it. And then Gaz does.

“No way!” Soap interjects. “I know this person! I matched with them on my own account!” He remarks as he clicks on your profile.

“Bloody hell, me too.” Gaz remarks, causing Soap’s head to turn and his jaw to drop.

“Wait, ye’ve got a Tinder too?” Soap asks to which Gaz nods.

“Yeah, to get laid.” He says with a shrug and a mischievous smirk. “Our chat was bloody funny.”

“Mine too!” Soap quips and chuckles. “Had a right laugh with them earlier.”

“Let me see?” Ghost asks, curious, and he slides over, bending over the back of the couch to look over Soap’s other shoulder.

“Small world. They matched with me too.” He remarks dismissively.

Both Gaz and Soap turn to look at Ghost like they’ve seen, well, a ghost.

“YE’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TOO, L.T.?!” Soap shrieks, louder and more high-pitched than a grown man with his natural timber should.

“I’ve got a life, MacTavish.” Ghost retorts.

“No, we know that, sir.” Gaz says softly. 

“Just didn’t think ye’d be on dating apps.” Soap nods.

Ghost simply shrugs and pulls back, walking back to his corner, in an armchair which he took as his own in the last hour.

“Was that who was makin’ you laugh earlier, Simon?” Gaz adds.

Ghost simply gives him a look that can be interpreted as a tired ‘Yes’, before he looks away to keep working on his laptop.

“Should we Like their profile, then?” Soap asks with a chuckle.

“Uh… yes?” Gaz adds, laughing along. “I can’t wait to see their reaction to it being us behind the screen.” He adds.

Soap clicks the green heart button to Like your profile and then immediately hops on DM once it presents a Match. Before he can write some nonsense, Gaz steals the phone from his hand and starts typing on the cracked screen.

John: well hello again you: hello? you: how can it be again though? you: never saw your 'captain' before in my life. John: no but uve seen US John: sorry! allow us to introduce ourselves formally

“Sir, does your profile have you listed as Simon?” Gaz asked as he raised his eyes from the screen. Once Simon nodded, he resumed typing.

John: our names are kyle john and simon

“Johnny, not John, mate.” Soap corrected Gaz right after he hit send.

John: johnny* sorry

They could only imagine the look on your pretty face as you realized who they were.

you: get out! you: no way!!!!! you: all three of you?! John: ye you: wait is this what simon meant when he called himself a traveling consultant? is he a soldier like you?

“L.T. they’re already accusing ye of lying to them.” Soap quips, causing Ghost’s eyes to shoot up from his laptop.

“Lying? Huh?!” He asks in confusion as he puts his laptop aside and rushes over to the couch. He sits on the armrest next to Gaz so he can look at the screen.

He then snatches the phone from Gaz’s hand, pulls off his right glove, and types a reply with now bare fingers on the cracked screen. 

John: I wasn’t lying. John: I just omitted the truth. I don’t go about bragging about my career. you: sure sure sure ‘John’. you: sooo you: is this some kind of weird joke? are you playing a prank on me all matching me individually and then using a fake account?

Gaz snatched the phone from Ghost again.

John: kyle here and no John: we really want our boss to get laid John: he’s miserable you: well im not the one night stand type really you: its why i didnt accept to get together with any of you.

“L.T. YOU TRIED TO SLEEP WITH THEM?!” Johnny asked with another gasp.

“So did you!” Ghost retorted.

“I never thought you were the type!” Soap said with a smug little smirk on his lips.

“Oh piss off, they rejected us all.” Ghost retorted. “So it shouldn’t matter.”

As they kept bickering, Gaz remained laser-focused on texting you and, just as they got heated, he spoke up: “They accepted.”

“Wait wha-” Soap said as he whipped his head down to look at the screen, just narrowly dodging Gaz’s nose and Ghost’s head.

“Bloody hell they did!” Soap yelped as he pulled his head back.

“They wanna go out with Price and ‘see where it goes because he seems like a nice man that needs a break from the three of you’?” Ghost read from the DMs on the screen.

“Ow.” Soap quipped in mock-injury.

The three men raised their eyes and met each other’s, before all their faces morphed into confusion.

“Did they… Did they just reject all three of us for a man that isn’t even aware of this account?” Soap asked aloud, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts in all their minds.

“It seems that way.” Simon said as he looked away.

They all went quiet, each of them quietly contemplating all their life’s choices that led them to the moment they got rejected for a person that isn’t even ‘real’.

After long minutes, Gaz spoke up. “How are we going to tell the Captain he has a date?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

IF THE GIF DOESN'T WORK FOR YOU: CLICK HERE

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[withahappyrefrain]

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tommy miller

genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak

word count: 2.7k

summary: joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.

warnings: gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie

a/n: this work was commissioned through kofi by the lovely @losergurlsstuff, thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

**gif made by the amazing @pedgito thank you so much dear!! dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Everything has been amazing since you and Joel started dating. To you, he was perfect. The perfect man. The perfect partner. The perfect person. You are forever grateful to whatever god made your roads cross. You have no idea what you’d be doing without him. You’ve never felt so cared for in your entire life. What he doesn’t say with words he shows with what he does and today is no exception. 

“What do you want for your birthday?” 

You smile and shake your head, his head is laying right above your stomach, his one hand under your shirt, caressing the warm skin. “I have everything I need.” 

“Just tell me.” 

“I really don’t want anything, Joel. Especially not from you.” 

His hand on your skin stills, looking up, you giggle at the way he’s frowning. Shocked. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means, you dork,” you lean and brush your lips against his forehead. “That you already give me everything. Being with you is enough.” 

Joel’s eyes narrow. A pleasurable shudder rolls through your spine, you adore it when he looks at you like that. It reminds you of all the times you pushed his buttons, resulting in a delightful time. 

“I have an idea what you might want.” 

“And what’s that mister know-it-all?” 

“Tommy.” 

“W—What?” Your heart sinks to your stomach, your palms suddenly cold and sweaty. His younger brother’s name was the last thing you expected to hear. Joel spreads his fingers across your waist, gently, he squeezes. 

“It’s a’right, sweetheart. I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot and well, I think it might be a good gift for your birthday.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

You genuinely don’t. Also, he’s been thinking about it? The inside of your stomach feels like lead. It’s true that once upon a time you thought how it would be with Tommy—but that was before Joel. And after you two started dating well. . . sure maybe your eyes did linger a bit, maybe you leaned a little too close when he whispered something in your ear during a party. . . You genuinely thought Joel wouldn’t notice. 

“I haven’t asked him yet,” he says, thoughtful. “But I was thinkin’ of indulgin’ your curiosities.” 

You‘re still not quite sure what he means by that. Your guilt gnaws at the walls of your stomach. Joel gives you everything, yet you make him feel like he doesn’t. Your eyes move away, falling to the corner of the wall. You can’t bear to look at him. He deserves better. 

“Hey,” he says, hand cupping your jaw and pulling you back. “Don’t cry.” 

“I’m not crying.” 

“You look like you’re about to,” he cracks a small smile. “I don’t mind, darlin’. It’s just a fantasy ain’t it? I know that you’re mine.” 

“I am,” you say tearfully. “I am and always will be.” 

“And I’m yours. I just want to spoil you as best as I can, sweetheart. And this seemed doable.” 

“Why do you even think Tommy would agree to this?” 

“Oh he will,” he says with a grin that makes your cheeks grow warm. “Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.” 

You nod but doubt still taints your expression. You don’t doubt Joel’s words, but no one can deny that this might be a bit odd. You’re not entirely sure Tommy will be on board. But you trust Joel, so you don’t question it. 

Despite all the doubt, and tension in your muscles, excitement slowly brews deep within you. 

“Joel, I’m not so sure about this.” 

His head turns harshly to face his brother. There’s no way he’s backing out now, not when they were only inches away from the fucking bedroom door. 

Then again, he does understand. He’s ain’t stupid. But Joel had seen the way Tommy looked at you, the way his eyes would do a subtle sweep and linger on your ass whenever you walked out of a room. “I ain’t gonna suddenly choke you out if that’s what got your feathers ruffled.” 

Tommy shifts from one foot to the other. Joel’s not used to seeing his brother so deep in though. He fears that if he thinks a little harder he might break his brain. With a huff of breath escaping his lips, Joel throws a hand over Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing his attention. 

“Look, I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her, if at any point you decide you don’t wanna do this, just say so and we’ll stop. No one is gonna get offended.” 

Tommy visibly relaxes at Joel’s words. He nods, lips a tight line. It reminds Joel when he taught him how to ride a bike when they were kids. He had the same expression.

“A’right then, now that that’s settled, let’s not keep her waitin’ anymore.” 

Without warning he opens the door and pushes Tommy in. If it was any other situation Joel would’ve laughed at the way Tommy tripped over his own feet. But his attention is immediately dragged to the bed you’re perched on. His mouth waters. He knew you were going to get dressed, well undressed in this situation, but he hadn’t thought about what you would put on. Joel’s eyes briefly flicker to Tommy, he seems just as in shock. It’s hard not to be with what you’re wearing. 

The fabric is a luxurious, deep blue, reminiscent of the darkest hours when the stars come out to play. The material is silky and smooth against the skin, offering a touch of elegance and comfort. And he would know. It’s his favorite damn set. Shimmering sparkles that adorn the fabric, mimic the stars scattered across the night sky. These sparkles catch the light of the scented candle you’ve lit, creating a subtle and enchanting glow.

Joel gradually meets your gaze. As soon as he does he knows you’ve done it on purpose. His lips quirk up, amusement growing in his eyes, you’d pay for this little stunt. 

“Wow,” Tommy exhales and takes a step forward. “You look amazin’ sweetheart.” 

You seem a little out of breath already, it’s going to be fun to watch you crumble. Though Joel isn’t quite sure how he feels about his brother being the one doing it. 

“Thanks,” you answer, unsure. 

There’s a lingering tension in the air and Joel almost rolls his eyes at them both. Almost. 

“A’right then,” he pushes Tommy until he’s at the edge of the bed and takes a seat on the chair he brought in this morning. “Stop bein’ shy now. Tommy, you’re her gift, are you sure you want to be the person responsible for her havin’ a shit birthday?” 

Tommy’s chest raises, “N-No.” 

“Then what are you waitin’ for?” 

“Jesus Joel, it’s not like I'm bringin’ her a new plant, give us a second.” 

Joel grins at the way he snaps and Tommy only shakes his head, turning to you and finally focusing on the right thing. You. 

Tommy tenderly presses both palms on each side of your face, thumbs moving in circles. Your nipples are already hard, he can see them like little diamonds showing up through the fabric. His fingers twitch. Patience isn’t something that he has, but he’ll try. For you. 

Your lips part with a soft gasp as Tommy finally brings you in, their lips brushing before full-on pressing against one another. Joel doesn’t miss the way your chest heaves. Your hands fist his shirt and Tommy tilts his head in response, Joel hears your little moans, his own cock gradually hardening under his jeans. 

Fuck, you look too good in that lingerie set. It’s hard just to sit and watch. 

“Take off his shirt,” Joel grunts, sounding more cross than he intended. You nod, but not without giving him a wary look first. When Tommy’s shirt hits the floor, the younger Miller roughly grabs your chin and turns your head so you’re facing Joel. His spine straightens. 

“You ain’t the one given’ orders,” Tommy says. “If you want me to make her feel good, you’re goin’ to shut up and watch, understood?” 

Joel’s mouth goes dry but he nods anyway. His eyes narrow as Tommy’s smile grows, his hand slips between your legs and begins to stroke you through your panties. Joel’s breath hitches, his gaze landing where you grow wetter and wetter. 

“Who’s in charge baby, tell him.” 

Your hips grind down to his hand, “You are.” 

“Well that wasn’t much of a challenge,” he chuckles, eyes finding Joel’s again. “Don’t you think you’re bad girl sayin’ that in front of your daddy?” 

Heat rushes to Joel’s cheeks, crimson spreading from his chest to his face. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to know that. A tingle he hasn’t felt before spreads from the base of his spine. His jealousy is starting to brew, but at the same time, it feels oddly nice to be helpless, even though he knows he isn’t. 

“Answer my question,” Tommy commands, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Are you a bad girl?” 

“Y–Yes.” 

Your eyes roll when Tommy presses your clit, drawing rough circles, he smiles. “Tell your boyfriend who’s your daddy now?” 

Joel holds his breath. Beads of sweat coating his back. “You are,” he hears you say to Tommy. There’s a slight quiver to your bottom lip and every part of him wants to soothe you. 

But instead, his brother does. 

Tommy sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and kisses your deeply, his hands caressing the contour of your body. 

“Don’t worry,” Tommy says. “Daddy is goin’ to take care of you.” 

You’re about to lose your mind. Your body is a flame and with each devastating snap of Tommy’s hips, your mouth drops open with a guttural moan. You’ve always assumed he’d be a gentle lover. Though you have a sneaking suspicion that Joel’s presence might be a solid reason why he’s tearing you and building you up over and over again. 

He positioned you so you’re staring at nothing else but Joel, you see how hard he is under his pants, the outline of his cock visible and making you gush all over Tommy’s cock. You want him in your mouth so bad but you know this isn’t that kind of game. Joel’s eyes follow the sway of your breasts, your bra ripped from you a while ago. You were completely naked except for your panties—Joel’s favorite and now Tommy is fucking you in it. 

Tommy reaches forward and grabs your throat, pulling you up so more of your chest is exposed. His cock is bigger than you imagined, nearly big as Joel. He pounds into you mercilessly, his length stretching you every day, reminding you whose cock is tearing you apart. 

“Does it turn you on that he’s watchin’ how wet you’re gettin’ my dick sweetheart?” With his question another fresh wave of slick drips out of you, tears build in your eyes, your insides left throbbing. His hips stutter, going balls deep, breath catching in his throat. “Fuck. Joel, she’s soaked— does she ever get this wet for you?” 

“‘Course she does,” he grunts, crossing his arms. You can’t tell if he’s upset or not, but the fact that Tommy doesn't have a broken nose already must be a good sign. 

Tommy leans into your ear, loud enough for Joel to hear. “Bet the old man can’t fuck you as well as I do.” 

You don’t answer. You can’t. Both of them are so good at this, and your head is in shambles. 

Tommy suddenly stops, and you’re a brink away from breaking down. A whine tears away from your lips. He releases your neck, you fall forward, only upright thanks to his hands holding your arms. “Answer me.” 

“You’re making me feel so good,” you say instead and thankfully, he doesn’t try to gauge a different response. His cock pulses, making you believe that was all he wanted to hear. Joel observes the two of you carefully. 

“Say it again baby, tell him how well daddy’s taking care of you.” 

“Daddy’s taking care of me,” you slur as his pace begins to pick up again. Each thrust makes you squeeze his cock like a vice. Liquid heat drops down your spine, your stomach clenching as he edges you closer and closer to your downfall. “J–Joel,” you call out without much thought and his dark gaze meets your own. “He feels so good.” 

“Oh fuck—” Tommy chokes and swiftly pulls out, prompting you to let out a disappointed whine. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna— fuck— bring your face here—” 

The back of Tommy’s head falls against the headboard and you quickly hurry towards him, your glistening cunt now in perfect view. You hear Joel taking in a sharp exhale. You part your lips, dipping down to take Tommy into your mouth but he stops it, holding you by the nape. “I’m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours,” he groans, forcing you down so your cheek would be pressed right below his pelvis. He starts stroking himself, fucking into his fist, and the sight is so beautiful that you lick one of his balls into your mouth, his back arches. 

Suddenly, he grips you even tighter and starts moaning loudly in harsh gasps, his hips thrusting uncontrollably against your face. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of you. You can feel him pulsing against your skin. You moan in response, feeling the rush of excitement as you open your mouth wider to take it all in.

“Tommy, please,” you breathe out, your eyes locked with his as he releases a stream on your face, covering your cheeks and lips with his release. You can feel yourself growing even more aroused as he continues to stroke himself, coating your face with his warm come. You whimper, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as he lets out a final raspy breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stares at you, your face damp and covered in his release. “You look so beautiful like this.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up, the intimate moment causing your heart to race in your chest. Tommy reaches out, gently wiping some of the come off of your face with his thumb before bringing it to your lips, letting you taste yourself.

“Fuck,” Tommy murmurs, his breaths coming out in short pants. He pulls you up to him, his lips crashing onto yours in a fierce kiss. However, while you’re lost in his mouth, you don’t realize the bed dipping with an added weight. You hear a clink of a belt and suddenly Joel is buried deep between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles around your clit. You gasp against Tommy’s mouth, the sensations becoming almost too much to handle.

“You didn’t make her come, idiot,” he groans, fucking himself into your deeper and deeper. Your eyes roll, your lips parting an inch away from Tommy’s face. Joel sinks his teeth into your neck, hips rutting into you without leaving you. His other hand playing with the elastic of your panties, you break down around him, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. “Mine,” he growls, acting as if the two of you are alone. “Mine, mine, mine—” 

Joel spills into you with a deep and visceral groan. There’s so much, his cock twitching and pulsing as he forces himself even deeper, claiming you as his. Doing something Tommy isn’t allowed to do. You shiver all over, your body weak with pleasure. 

He trickles down the inside of your thighs as he pulls out, falling back to his knees. You collapse onto Tommy’s chest and you’re surprised when you feel his hand on your neck, rubbing soothingly over your warm skin. 

Joel leaves a trail of kisses down your spine, “You were amazin’, honey.” 

“Such a good girl,” Tommy murmurs, though both of their voices feel as if it’s coming from a distance. Your eyes flutter closed, exhaustion taking hold of you. “Let’s get her cleaned up and tuck her in.” 

Joel presses his mouth against you one last time before heading to the bathroom. 

[buckyalpine]

Bucky likes what he sees

Imagine Bucky goes out with the team for drinks, staying at the bar nursing on a drink while his eyes linger on the pretty girl in a red dress. It’s like she wanted his attention, the material hugging her body perfectly while her hips sway, her head tilted back when she laughs at something her friend says. They lock eyes for a second, and God does he love that smile- 

“Why don’t you go over and talk to her” Sam nudged Bucky’s shoulder when he notices the pretty thing Bucky’s been eyeing, the girl equally flirty, giving him shy smiles every so often, “C’mon, she’s into you” 

“Knock it off” Bucky huffed, shaking his head and going back to his drink while Steve takes his turn to encourage his bestfriend. 

“Maybe buy her a drink, see how it goes” he offers but the deadpan look he gets back is enough for him to snort and raise his hands in defeat. Bucky is perfectly happy just watching, noting every dip and wine of her waist, her dress riding up ever so slightly with the movement of her body. His eye’s narrow when he sees someone try to sneak their hands on her from behind, only to be turned down when she moved away. 

However the guy doesn’t seem to get it.

He’s back again, this time trying to grab her with more force, pushing his hips against her ass. 

Bucky doesn’t like it. 

Steve and Sam exchange knowing glances with each other when they see his jaw clench, the rest of the team also now quietly watching what the super solider would do. Nat and Tony noticed the sparkle of a diamond ring, huffing when she sees it’s on her ring finger. 

“Isn’t that a wedding ring? Whole ass rock on her finger” 

“Never mind, I think she’s marr-

Before they could say anything else, Bucky is on his feet, striding over to the dance floor, eyes locked on the man pawing at the doll that had his attention all night.  

“Don’t touch my wife” Bucky growled, shoving the man off, letting him stumble onto the floor, his voice dying down immediately when he noticed who was towering over him. He scrambled away without looking back while the rest of the team stayed frozen in place, jaws all on the floor, watching Bucky pull you into him with ease. He smoothed down the red material of your dress, walking you over to the bar where there was a bit more light, hardly noticing everyone staring at you both. 

“You okay, babydoll?” Bucky held your waist, looking you over, his fingers tracing over your face, his arm tightly hugging you. 

“I’m okay” You nodded, standing on your toes to peck his lips, your hand’s resting on your husbands chest, nuzzling into him. “Wondered how long you’d last just sitting there” You giggled while he smirked, kissing the top of your head. 

“Well, I didn’t do anything until someone touched you” Bucky pouted in defense, making you melt over how protective he was. 

“Thank you for saving me Mr. Barnes” you whispered while he looked down at you with heart eyes, taking your hand in his, placing a kiss on the ring that sat on your finger, the one that he spent months picking and designing just for you. 

“Wife?” Sam broke the silence while everyone else continued to look at you both in disbelief. 

“Oh” Bucky blushed, blinking with owlish eyes, his baby blues pleading with you to take over because he doesn’t know what to say. “This-this is my wife, y/n” He tried to bite back a shy smile but it was no use, his cheeks dusted pink, feeling giddy and fuzzy with you beside him. 

“Come again. Wife?” 

“Uh-yeah” He tried to hide behind you through it was no use, his much larger and taller form still clearly visible. 

“What’s terminator doing”

“This...this is the winter soldier everyone is so scared of..for fucks sake, are you trying to hide behind her?!”

“How long has this little secret been going on for” 

“thryrs” Bucky mumbled but no one else hears it except for Steve, given his enhanced hearing.

“THREE YEARS?!” 

“Steve, I can explain-

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES”

“Tony- 

“YOU BITCH”

Bucky groaned, tucking his face into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, completely tongue tied. He was going to introduce you to the team at some point, he just didn’t imagine it would be like this, he also didn’t anticipate feeling this shy. 

“You know you can blink twice if he’s been holding you hostage” Sam cackled at the way your 6ft soldier clung onto you, refusing to look at his friends, your hand gently patting his head, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“If it helps, he talks about you all of the time” You smiled, only to have Bucky frown on the inside for you exposing him. 

“No, I don’t” His muffled voice vibrated against your neck, reluctantly pulling away, “Maybe only about Steve” 

“Uh huh, sure” 

“Well, as you can see, I didn’t need to talk to her, she’s already mine” Bucky grinned, kissing your cheek, his mind now fully focused on bending you over on the dance floor but- 

“You’re not getting away that easily Barnes, sit down, we’ll ask the questions” Tony stated, while everyone moved to one side, leaving the other side empty for you and Bucky. 

“Question 1. What’s your full legal name”

“James-

“LIAR”

“Steve-

“Bitch” 

It was going to be a long night. 

[pinkhoodi]

love island !

✎ᝰ — hcs on how the bat boys (and wally :p) would act on love island

♡⃕ — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, wally west x reader

♡⃕ — genre + warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff <3

♡⃕ — a/n: who do yall think would be the best male islander ? I’m voting wally or jason 🧏🏽‍♀️

꒰ BRUCE WAYNE ꒱

Ꮺ bruce is here for one goal and one goal only, to find true love and he’ll use love island as his opportunity !!!

Ꮺ at first bruce thought it was a silly idea to go on a reality show to find love but then watching a season (or two), he realized that it might be just what he needs. a vacation in fiji where there’s no communication to the outside world and the only thing to focus on is the villa

Ꮺ I would see bruce as the bombshell everyone and I mean everyone is in love or jealous with. his introduction is smooth, his manners compliment him well, and the eye contact he makes with the girls have them heating up in the face. he would be an early on bombshell, maybe the end of week one so a lot of people consider him as an honorary og islander

Ꮺ bruce usually ends up making connections and then they wither away. he doesn’t understand why and it does start to frustrate him, he tries his best to grow a connection but he genuinely can’t seem to do it

Ꮺ thankfully, he’s grown some friendships that keeps him motivated and reminds him that there is a potential someone out there for him :)

Ꮺ buttt once he does, he’s stuck to his couple like glue and rarely leaves their side. he is there giggling and chatting with the person day in and day out, his experience in the villa swiftly changes once this person comes in

Ꮺ now casa amor…bruce is nawt playing any and I mean ANY games with casa !!! yes the reason for casa kind of makes sense but he doesn’t wanna indulge in the idea of hurting his couple or potentially damaging what he has built

Ꮺ bruce is someone who makes it to the final four and either wins or is definitely runner up. the results doesn’t phase him really since he feels like he found his person and someone he can grow to love <3

꒰ DICK GRAYSON ꒱

Ꮺ oh baby dick is here to have FUNNNNNNN. of course make some new connections but who is he to turn down a nice vacation on an island? with his busy and stressful schedule, he needs this vacation more than ever

Ꮺ dick would be an og islander and his path with finding love is what reeled in viewers. he’s done damn near every trope but oddly they don’t work in his favor :/

Ꮺ he realizes that most of the girls only get with him cause of his looks and his appeal which excited him at first but soon made him realize that these aren’t the connections he wanted. he wanted something genuine, something he could enjoy for the long run

Ꮺ I would think that he finds his love with one of the og members that he didn’t invest time in until later in the show. all his connections failed him except one and it was only labeled as a friendship until it sparked into something deeper in the last few weeks of his time in the villa

Ꮺ casa amor is what dick anticipated the most ngl, he was so ready to pack his bags and skip to casa. he wasn’t stressed about what was going on in the villa only cause he didn’t have any strong connections. I mean he brought a girl back but that didn’t last long

Ꮺ sadly dick didn’t make it to the final four and it kinda hurt him a little bit but he enjoyed the time while it lasted. also his connection with his person became stronger outside the villa and they eventually grew into a beautiful couple :)

꒰ JASON TODD ꒱

Ꮺ in jason’s head, he is here for a good time, not a long time. it became the complete opposite but that’s neither here nor there !!

Ꮺ jason just did it cause production reached out to him. how? the world may never know. however, he doesn’t regret accepting the offer cause he enjoyed it more than he thought and he met some incredible people who helped him grow as a person

Ꮺ I would say jason was a bombshell that came in about a week after the season started. He’s like an honorary og cast to the other islanders

Ꮺ sadly, jason was almost always at the bottom or vulnerable cause he couldn’t find the right connection. every girl or bombshell he connected with, something was missing, something that could complete him. though he did find it halfway through the season

Ꮺ a bombshell came through just last minute and he’s been stuck by their hip since. he was still open to new connections but this bombshell always reeled him back in, made him see what he was missing from his past connection. they’re kind to others, always laughing, and bring a soft yet joyful energy to the villa

Ꮺ now casa…ooo casa. at first jason did it only to see what the hype was about it but oh how he instantly regrets it. he acknowledged himself and made his presence with the casa girls but he instantly got the feeling that they were nothing like his connection back in the villa

Ꮺ did he do some things? ….sadly yes but immediately regret it the day after. in a “why the fuck did i do this? what is wrong with me?” type of regret. he felt even more regret when he returned to the villa and saw his couple feeling low and silently infuriated during the recoupling

Ꮺ he did own up to his actions and told them the entire thing that went down, not sugarcoating anything. also apologizing almost every time he saw them until they forgave him

Ꮺ he got into the final four and won :). viewers loved his storyline and loved the amount of growth he had throughout the show + the amount of fangirls he collected

꒰ WALLY WEST ꒱

Ꮺ thee actual lover boy in this villa and it’s so cute :(. he really came to love island for the right reasons and it’s so beautiful watching him fall in love and become a lovesick puppy around his couple

Ꮺ wally would be either an og member or a bombshell that came in after the third recoupling

Ꮺ he didn’t really think too much into it when he applied for the show. he wanted to have fun for the summer and see what this show could teach him, what didn’t expect was to have one of the most beautiful love stories everrr

Ꮺ wally’s connection weren’t too bad but for some reason he kept gravitating towards someone (you) and it would unintentional, he genuinely doesn’t know how it happens. he could be getting to know other people but still find himself under your arms, at ease and with his cheeks blushing red

Ꮺ not only that, he would always end up recoupling with them. he doesn’t understand why but he enjoys knowing how much you like him and how much he likes you

Ꮺ as time went on, he slowly stopped being interested in other people and only kept his attention on his couple. he realized after talking to the boys how he feels and they all joked about he might be falling in love, they were joking but wally felt a ping of nervousness about this “falling in love” but he couldn’t deny it to himself, even if he tried

Ꮺ wherever his couple is, there he is as well. even not in their absence, he leaves a small pout until they come back, he pretends that he wasn’t pouting beforehand but the entire villa snitched that he def was (he was so red, it was so cute but so embarrassing LMAO). he’s always smiling when talking about them, describing them with such beautiful adjectives, and all his recoupling speeches about them have the villa feeling like he was a yearning poet in his past life

Ꮺ casa….casa amor. he wasn’t too excited on the idea but the boys convinced him and he instantly regrets listening to them. the casa girls just didn’t feel right and he tried to keep all interactions on a friendship level, no matter how much the girls push themselves onto wally

Ꮺ he got all sappy and sort of become sad of not being with his couple. while his friends enjoyed, he kept them in the back of his head and wondered what they were doing in the villa. a lot of “I miss y/n” and “I wanna be with y/n”, he missed them so much to the point where he started counting down how many hours left in this casa

Ꮺ viewers loved how much wally has grown to love their couple and has showed more than minimum to be with them. even if he did had a few screw ups, he was more than sure to fix it and get back into their good graces, he can’t see them being hurt and he doesn’t wanna hurt them in anyway, shape, or form

Ꮺ I would say wally def came in second or third place. the prize really didn’t matter to him so he’s not phase by it, he’s just happy to meet someone this incredible on the island. after the show, him and his couple officially got together and ended up married years later <3

♡⃕ hey im looking for a girl in the villa. personality, any height, mrs right 😜

♡⃕ ngl, the only reason it took me song to get these out cause i was hooked on love island 🥸 (#TEAM SORDELL & TEAM KANA 🤞🏽)

♡⃕ who was yall fav islander ? yall better not say rob or aaron…

♡⃕ there is def gonna be a part two !!! I wanted to add kaldur and roy but I’m way too tired and my brain hurts rn :/

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: psalm 27:14

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗂. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your middle-aged, loser Genetics professor who has a dad bod <3

Part 8

Miguel usually starts his day off by preparing a dark cup of coffee immediately after finally peeling himself out the bed. With droopy eyes and a five o’clock shadow, his husky figure stumbles into the kitchen, thirsty for caffeine. As he waits for the machine to do its magic, he’ll maybe run his hand through his dark, peppered, slept-on hair or take a moment to clean his glasses with the fibers of his sweats. Once the cup is prepared, the fresh scent of grinded coffee beans in the air, he’ll lean against his kitchen counter, sipping happily from his world’s best brain mug. He’ll relax for a moment, thinking about the material he’s planned for the day. Once he’s done, he’ll wash his cup, and start getting ready.

He left the suit about three years ago, taking up the job as professor of genetics and biochemistry at around the same time.

He’s been happy with his life here. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful. It’s simple. Everything he wanted. All the domesticity that was missing in his life had been rediscovered once he hung the mask. It’s been the best decision he’s ever made.

He didn’t think things could get better until you came along. This gorgeous, smart, funny, sweet person that had him wrapped around their finger. And given his stature and age, he never would have thought you’d fallen, too.

So this morning looks a little different, and every morning since he’s met you, for that matter.

Miguel gets up from bed faster now, with you on his mind. Once he makes his way into the kitchen for his fix of coffee, he’s reminded of the dream, possibly a pornographic one, he had about you. He’s like a horny teenager all over again, with an ache between his legs that, now, only you can inflict on him, and it’s there every morning.

Miguel now uses the time that it takes for the coffee to drip to shoot you a good morning text, accompanied by multiple heart emojis. And of course, he takes a little longer to get ready in the mornings just because he wants to make sure he looks his absolute best for you.

Today, while sipping on his café, he remembers the conversation you two had. It was when you two had gone to his office after the library. And then he remembered the things he shared with you about his past life; how amazingly you took the dump of lore. Only a higher power would know what anyone else would’ve done or said after hearing things like that. He smiles to himself as he thinks about your one and only question/response to it all:

“Are you happy?”

The response itself was all that he needed to see if his feelings for you were valid, and these feelings have become the strongest thus far. Miguel doesn’t want to jinx it, but he thinks what he’s feeling is something a tad bit more serious than a simple crush, and that both excites and terrifies him.

While he gets ready for the day, he then thinks about the conversation prior to that. He meant everything he said last night about not having sex, but at the same time, he would want nothing more than to show you how much of a good man he can be to you, both in daily life and in bed. Even though he’s hard at the very thought of you, he also wants you to feel safe more than anything. Being with you is far more important than the needs of his dick.

The fact that you’re his student also sort of weighs in as well. Getting caught in a professor/student scandal on the last week of classes before you receive your masters would be disastrous. Thankfully (and surprisingly), no one has been suspicious of y’all this semester.

Honestly, Miguel is just looking forward to Summer, because for him, that means he gets to take you out and enjoy you every chance he gets.

<3

For the last few days of classes, you tend to your exams and Miguel busies himself with his own work. You guys haven’t really been with each other, with the exception of passing each other in the halls. It hasn’t been easy on you at all, and even more so on Miguel. Let’s just say his office door has been spending more time locked than unlocked, and not to score papers. Thankfully, the walls are thick.

The day you take Miguel’s exam is the very last day of classes, and at this point, both of you are antsy to not only see but just feel each other. The tension in the air is thick, the text messages have become spicier, and on multiple occasions have the phone calls been so close to just becoming pure phone sex, but you and Miguel had to keep your distance. Just for this week, and afterward, y’all can do anything you desired. For now, you have to settle for the small touches and occasional eye contact during the exam.

That night when he dropped you off at your place, you half joked about him giving you a perfect score purely out of bias.

“I would never. I take my exams very seriously, for your information.” He responded smugly, his hairy forearm on the door of his car where the window would be. “Besides, you’re far too smart for that.“ His voice softens toward the end of his sentence, that lovesick smile he always gawks at you with on his face.

“I’m serious, Mig. I want an accurate grade.” You match his volume, leaning down onto the car window, face to face with him.

“Mama, I promise. I’m sure you’ll get a perfect score anyways, but on the off chance that you don’t,” he leans closer to, his breath on yours, “Maybe I’ll just have to give you more private sessions during the Summer.” You chuckle against his lips once they meet yours.

“You’re such a horndog.” The words are muffled by his lips and tongue. “Only for you.” He mumbles, unable to keep his mouth off of yours. Miguel really was hot n bothered by you all the time, but honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s your little loser after all.

The glances and “accidental” brushing of hands had definitely occurred before and during the exam. Emotionally, it kind of took y’all back to the beginning of the semester, when the feelings were first bubbling. Alas, you had to stay focused. Compared to your peers, you practically flying through it. Even though you spent half the time mingling during them (and making out), the tutoring actually helped in the end.

When it was time to submit your exam, you gave him a knowing look. All Miguel does is give you a smile, but one that was genuine and sweet. One that reassured you in the sentiment that he was going to score you accurately.

At the end of the day, you didn’t even care about what score you got, as long as Miguel nor you get in trouble. That’s all that mattered to you.

<3

It’s later in the day, and you’re in your dorm. Tomorrow is your big day. The day you walk along the stage and take your master’s in your hand; physical proof of your knowledge and hardwork. You were also thinking about Miguel and what he’s up to, but what’s new.

You were thinking about how after your graduation, Miguel will no longer be your professor and you his student. You would just be two people who were absolutely crazy about each other, and you were looking forward to that.

You get a text from Miguel.

Missing my baby. Just thinking of you.

Aw, I miss my big teddy bear, too. What you up to?

Finished about 30% of these papers. Need to take a break, though. What if I came and picked you up?

And go where?

Home

I’m already at home, ya goof

I mean my home, but you absolutely don’t have to. We could go to the library or whatever you want.

No! I’d love to come over.

You sure?

Of course, I wanna see what other books I can steal from you

Only in this for the books, I see. Ouch.

Don’t be dramatic, you know that’s not true

Do I?

You gonna pick me up or not?

Putting my shoes on.

He had you kicking your feet. You were unsure if it was a good idea, but that didn’t stop it from being an extremely enticing one. You were just worried about someone seeing you enter his home, but otherwise, you would love to see where he lives, despite making the deal about not seeing each other until after graduation. This whole time, you’ve only gotten familiar with his office, and that’s only one small part of him. You just couldn’t wait any longer to be near him, and besides, classes are technically over.

<3

“So you’re half spider?” You and Miguel relax in his living room. You scour his book shelves while he makes you a drink. His place is exactly how you imagined it. It’s a balance of sharp and cozy, like him.

“I know, not the most exciting of confessions.” Miguel’s sarcasm seeps through his speech and it makes you huff. Such a sass master.

“I’m being for real. I think that’s amazing and all, but I’m glad you chose to leave that life.” Your eyes are still on the spines of his books when you start to hear heavy footsteps coming your way. He’s just as excited to be near you as you are, if not, more.

“Me, too,” Miguel wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss on your head, “or else I would’ve never met you.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” You playfully comment, getting on your tip toes to kiss him, his pouch rumbling against your torso from his chuckling. “Definitely. Without you, I was starting to lead on a pretty lame life.” Miguel humored at himself. He knew that although going to teach classes, returning back home, and repeat was a pretty peaceful routine, he also knew it could be a boring one at times.

You lean your head back in exaggerated astonishment, “Why would you say that? You’re the coolest person I know, and not because you were spider-man,” you run your hands up and down his chest as you list off his cool factors, “You’re a genius, you’re a family man, you’re funny, you’re also an Austen man, what more could I ask for?”

Miguel looks down at you, his muse, his angel, his everything. “Thanks, mamita. I’m proud to be your choice. Making me feel like the luckiest man in the universe.” You’re enjoying this little romantic banter between you two, and Miguel loves it.

“However, that last one is a secret between us. Can’t have people knowing that their exSpider-Man enjoys classic literature.”

“Speaking of which, have you gotten to the end of pride and prejudice?” You take his hand and lead him to the couch where you both plop down and find a good cuddle position. Miguel is the perfect amount of warmth even though he wore nothing but sweats, meaning his dad build was out in all of its glory. It took everything in you not to pounce on him. Miguel wasn’t much help either. When he’s sitting down and you’re sitting in between his legs and he brings you in close to him to hug you. He’s all kissing your neck and playing with the waistband of your pants with his hand because truly he wants to eat you out so so so bad and is extremely so hard by the intimacy, but he knows tonight is not the night, and so did you.

“I’m not finished yet, but I’m close.” He mumbles against your skin. Miguel was always a master of flipping your switch, this time using the smacking of his plump lips against your supple skin, claiming your neck, shoulders, and jaw as his.

“Mm… y’know what would be a great idea?” you manage to get out.

Miguel stops what he’s doing and braces himself. “Oh God. What?”

“If you read whatever you have left of the book to me.”

“You want me to read it? Out loud?” Miguel finds this cute. You nod your head eagerly, and Miguel was absolutely cooed by the request. “Like I’ve said millions of times before, I love the sound of your voice.”

“Para ti? Claro Que si, mi vida.” And so he went and grabbed the book and his glasses, settling back into his position under you, and began reading in his soft, silky voice. You listened intently, the words falling right out of his mouth, making music to your ears. For Miguel, this was an honor. He’ll take glances down at you and see that you’re in total awe of him, latching onto every word he recites. He hadn’t done something like this since, well, Gabriella.

This is the life he wanted. The life he had been living the past three years had served him well, but Miguel felt it. He felt it was time for another chapter. He was so certain. He’s decided he wants this every night.

Miguel reads on, simultaneously rehearsing what he’ll say in his head. The themes of newfound love and romance of the book was inspiring him. It made the scene all too perfect for the both of you. He then takes a long pause on a page. You can feel his belly hitch. “Everything alright?” You ask softly. “I’m okay. More than okay.” He sounds as though he might get emotional.

Miguel looks away from the book and into your eyes, putting the novel down. You two are in his home, on his couch, cuddling with a book, and the school year has come to an end. Miguel needs to say something and feels it’s time to share it. It’s now or never.

“You,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes shining, breath steadying,

“I love you.”

The words send your heart rate to oblivion.

“W-what?”

“I love you.” Miguel says this so matter of factly, like he’s never been so sure of something in his life.

You had to make sure what you heard matched what he said and it did. You’ve wondered when he would say it. You would’ve been fine had he done so on the first date! You only have one response to this, and tears well up in your eyes before you can say it, “I love you, too.” You attack Miguel with kisses, and both of you relish in this monumental moment in your blossoming relationship. You’ve finally found the prince to your fairytale.

“I adore you”, “I worship you”, “I’m so proud of you,” and more “I love you”s fall from Miguel’s lips, making the tears well up in your eyes again and your heart swell even more.

Miguel continues to read for you, savoring the special memory you both will now share for a very long time. Sometimes, he’ll just stop mid paragraph just to say it to you again, that he loves you, and you say it back. Both of you are giddy little kids, telling each other how much you love the other, trying to one up each other like it’s a contest. At some point, you can feel yourself start to fall, and Miguel sees it, but he proceeds with the story. The mixture of his lulling voice and the soothing sensation of his rising and falling tummy was the perfect combo for sleep. Once you’re completely out, Miguel turns off the lights by voice command, and lays a blanket over you. He holds you tight against him, as if you could disappear at any moment, and plants a kiss lovingly on your forehead. He whispers ‘te amo, mi vida’ before slumber takes him over as well.

<3

You can feel a light gently shed on your eyelids. You’re not fully conscious yet, drifting between the states of awake and asleep.

Your fingers flicker with life, and you think you feel something rough. Your eyes crack and you’re met with a blurred figure. Your vision focuses and you make out a face, your fingers lingering on the jaw. Your lips curl at this face. The closest thing in view is a pair of dark lips, parted and inspiring deep, low snores. Taking account of their breath, you feel the inhaling and exhaling of his stomach against your front side. You lift your head slightly to get a better view of the person you currently lay on top of. Tousled black hair, dark eye lashes that ornament sleeping eyes, thick brows lacking the tension creases that would otherwise be there, and some missing glasses, which now sit on a side table. The sight was sweet enough to make the coldest heart melt. You take a moment to just observe his breathing, his relaxed state, and start leaving small, ghostly caresses on his face, absorbing each line and shape of his rugged complexion. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. You wanna stay in it forever. The outside world finally makes its presence known with a few chirps of birds, and your attention goes to a window and that’s when it hits you: you’re still in Miguel’s place, and you both had fallen asleep on his couch. At last, you gain enough consciousness to realize that, for the entirety of the night, you had been held the same way a child holds their most beloved teddy bear by your exprofessor, now lover.

No, you two didn’t have sex, just like how it had been discussed a few days ago. You were both still clothed, yet, somehow, this feels even more intimate than when y’all eat each other’s faces.

Your attention is stolen back by the snores of the man below you, which makes you stifle laughter. You could honestly lay there watching him for hours. Your eyes glazed over every inch to ingrain the perfect mental image of this soft moment.

A few more seconds pass by before his snoring pattern comes to an abrupt halt and his eyes flutter open, landing on you. His watch goes off in a small, irritable beep. His tired eyes lift as he smiles at the view, despite the noise. This was something that he’s dreamt of waking up to every day.

“G’morning, sleeping beauty,” you softly speak, leaning down for a kiss on his forehead, “You sleep good?” Your voice is sweet, the moment seconds before leaving it honey-like.

“Morning,” his hands that wrapped around your waist unravel and rub your back, “Mhm. like a baby. Don’t think I’ve slept like that in… well, ever.” An early raspiness spills from his lips and its deep enough to make your insides flutter. “Me too.” You reply, gazing into each other’s eyes before sharing one or two good morning kisses on the lips, the second one lingering a couple seconds longer.

“Can you confirm something for me?” You continue, and Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Was I dreaming or did you say the L-word to me last night?” A giggle leaves Miguel’s mouth. “Yeah, I did, and I’ll say it again.” He says in his low voice. You grin ear to ear, bodies glued together as if they were merging into one. His hands come up to your face tenderly, and with pride, he confesses again,

“I love you.”

A/n: I’m back girlies, did u miss me?

<3Taggies<3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni

[ghostgirl101]

writing for william afton?? Yeah sure I'll get craaaazy ヘ⁠(⁠￣⁠ω⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠) you can write headcanons of anything, really, I just want to hold this man and be extremely and overly affectionate with him (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠) (and and jealousy trope is so aaaaaa you can write something with that, right??? :33)

William Afton/Steve Raglan Being Obsessed With You Would Include...

A/N: Yeap, let's start with obsessive relationship stuff, and then I'll work on a request for jealous headcanons. Hope this is in character, I tried to make it as accurate as I could with what I could work with from the movie. Requests for the FNAF movie are still open if you want me to work on a scenario; just make sure its no smut and platonic or childhood sweethearts for any of the animatronics/missing children 🙃

🐰• Well, good luck getting out of whatever craziness you've somehow gotten yourself into. That's the first thing I'm gonna say ._.

🐰• You probably meet William as "Steve," the careers counsellor who asks a little too many personal questions for it to be strictly business-related, but then, he's got to know who you are to find a job that fits in with your life and personality. He seems normal enough, though there is a slight intensity in the way his eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and his questions become more specific and a bit non-contextual.

🐰• By the end of the interview, he offers you the place of a nightguard at Freddy's, giving you his card with a casual half-smile and going out of his way to show you the ropes. Then you start the job, as oddly unsettling and dark the environment seems, and you think that it's the last time you'll hear from him.

🐰• It's not 😏

🐰• Steve knows a lot about you from your files that he went through before, and from what you told him, and he's got a good memory. He copied all the information down, storing it safely at home, going through pictures and any sources he can find about you in some unplaced interest. William's very calm and calculated, and there's no way he'd be found out unless he let it happen or wanted you to find out for yourself.

🐰• So until he's ready to reveal his dark side completely, which will slip out in little actions and hints when you spend time with him, he's simply Steve Raglan, the relatively normal careers counsellor who keeps checking in on you to see how you're getting on with the job, often going out for a coffee to give you "advice" in his breaks. Anything to pry out more information from you, for him to understand what exactly it is about you that intrigues him.

🐰• Is it because you're unusually pretty? Clever? Quirky? To William, you're just a bit different, maybe a bit childish, or mature and deep, dark-humoured? Whatever it is, it caught his attention, which is a good thing, if you want it... and if it's not, well, you're stuck with it anyway.

🐰• You'll notice quite early on that he's a bit odd himself, maybe a bit invasive, possessive, especially for someone you haven't known for that long. If someone looks over at you for a second too long while you're having coffee with Steve, having a conversation that's veered off of references and employee skills to some personal aspect or interest in your life that he's cracked open. You'll see a shot of something dark pass through his blueish gaze before it passes almost as soon as it comes, and you'll know nothing more about it except never seeing that person again. Just another missing person to add to a list.

🐰• Same with if you happen to be seeing anyone; he's got his own ways to scare people off, and if that doesn't work, he'll be forced to do something a little messier. Again, you won't know a thing about it, and there'll be no proof, no body, no big questions. Suddenly your partner has run off on a job out of the country or broken up with you via text... and Steve will be around to "see how you're doing" and to pick up the pieces when you end up spilling more about what's been going on in your life and exposing more vulnerability. It gives William a rush, in a way, to be needed and ran to and relied on when something goes bad, especially if it's you looking up at him with big pleading eyes. He can only smile and squeeze your hand, not letting go for a long moment as you get yet another drink and finally end up getting somewhere closer to a proper relationship.

🐰• Friends start getting a little distant, past lovers end up disappearing and little conveniences in life become more frequent. Wonder why that is?

🐰• Afton has a great memory, and if you tell him you like something in particular, your favourite show or book, he finds the exact thing by chance in the shop and had to get it for you, just to see your eyes light up and smile thankfully. Or he recorded a new episode of your series for you to watch if you come over on one of the nights you're not working, or he's just finished reading that book, come round to his so you can talk about it some more? He always finds a way to get what he wants, and when it's a person, victim or not, the rule still applies.

🐰• You may not be a victim of violence or murder, but he's got an obsession, an unhealthy desire to watch everything you do, everyone you talk to and in your life. He doesn't name a specific reason for it, doesn't think he needs to, doesn't see the point in it. If you ever catch on to that kind of behaviour, he'll just give you a warm smirk and shrug. "Well, because it's you," is his casual response, though you could swear there's something more behind his eyes. "And I care about you, you know?"

🐰• This is still William Afton though, and for all he can be surprisingly romantic and thoughtful when he thinks to be to see your reaction, he's a sadistic murderer and kidnapper at the end of the day... and it does start to show through. He can be manipulative as we see in the movie, and a bit arrogant, though I don't think he'd outrightly manipulate you. It's more your surroundings and the people you're with. Maybe he'll dig up some dirt on one of your close friends and put it somewhere where you'll find it and cut off the friendship yourself, exactly how he wanted it. And on the occasions when he gets his hands dirty with those types of people, he will get his hands dirty, and enjoys every minute of it. He taunts and mocks them until their dying breath, hating the thought of someone else holding your attention for longer than he can, which only causes more blood to be washed out of clothes and off his skin before you notice.

🐰• I have the idea of William watching you sleep deep in for some reason, since he's affectionate in his own ways, not majorly into PDA or clingy, since he prefers you being the one to run to him. But in the moments when you're not aware that he's around, like when you're sleeping. He'll trace calloused but featherlight fingers across your face, down from your forehead to your cheek and your neck. There's a beat of tensity where you might think he's tempted to do something extreme, something violent, but it passes time and time again. I think the only time William would be tempted to be harsher and forceful is if and when you ever found out about what it is exactly he does, and try betraying him. He wouldn't kill you, nothing like that, but he'd have to lock you away someplace safer...

🐰• But Afton will cross that bridge when he comes to it. For now, it's just an attentive and dependent relationship that William will keep going for as long as he can, accepting any gesture of affection or admiration or any positive attention in general with open arms and a pleased smirk on his face. Life will be pretty easy for you, everything seeming to go your way, and his, he'll make sure of it. And when you finally uncover the truth behind Steve and meet the real William Afton, he'll expect things to stay exactly the same: bloodied hands, spring locks snapping, glowing grey animatronic eyes or not.

[cassiesc0rner]

Impurities II

Synopsis: You’re the new girl at East Highland High, your only goal is to get through school. Until you come across Nate Jacobs

Genre: slightly suggestive, fluff, slight angst

Pairing: Nate x fem!reader

Warnings: manipulation, lying, dark themes, let me know if I missed something

Song rec: saint - dpr ian | in my feelings- ldr

WC: +7k

Other parts: previous part, next part,

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part as much as the last one :3 I’d love to make some other parts including smut because I kinda like where this story is going so tell me if you guys would be down to read that!! ᥫ᭡

The next days weren’t that eventful. You went to school with Nate, you went to the mall with Nate, and you sometimes even waited for Nate until he was done with his football training.

The next week started out pretty smooth too. You got ready for school on Monday, before Nate picked you up, and you two drove to school and you went to your classes. Everything was going well.

Everything, except for lunch break.

The bell rang and you quickly stuffed your things into your bag, knowing that Nate was probably on his way to the cafeteria already.

You exited the room and walked towards the cafeteria, when someone suddenly stepped in front of you "We need to talk."

You looked up from the floor and found none other than Maddy. She had her arms crossed and looked at you with her usual confident stare.

You remembered what Nate told you about her, that you should stay away from her and that she's a liar, a cheater and simply a horrible person.

But you still couldn't be mean to her or ignore her. "About what?" You asked nervously. She rolled her eyes subtly "What do you think?" She answered.

Fair point.

"Listen, Nate and I aren't together if that's what you want to talk about. And even if we were, it’s not like we owe you any explanation." You didn't know where that surge of confidence came from. Maybe because she started getting on your nerves?

As if her constant stares weren't enough, she had to approach you now too? And she had the nerve to be annoyed when you simply asked what she wanted to talk about.

"Okay, I don't know what the fuck he told you, but it's probably not true." Maddy retorted "I just wanted to warn you, because you seem like a nice person."

You couldn't lie, you were curious about her point of view. You didn't want to betray your only friend, but it wouldn't hurt to listen to her explanation. It’s not like you'd believe her anyway.

"Warn me from what? I'm totally fine and Nate has been nothing but nice to me so far." Maddy scoffed, God, you’re so oblivious "So far, yeah that probably describes it perfectly. Did you ever do anything against his will?"

You thought for a moment Did I? "I take that as a no." Maddy answered for you "Nate only likes you because you do what he says. And," She looked you up and down "because you also wear what he wants you to wear. Seems like he didn't change at all."

You scoffed in disbelief "Nate has done so much for me, and he never forced me to wear this. He also never hurt me-." "Yet." She interrupted "It's only a matter of time until he does."

You stayed silent, not sure what to say to that "Nate loves control and he loves it even more when he has control over someone. He's fucking sick in the head, completely deranged!"

You didn't want to believe Maddy. There's no way Nate actually was like that, you knew him you spent so much time with him. Sure, he did have a short temper sometimes, but he never intentionally treated you badly.

And you knew that she treated him badly and not the other way around. How could she lie to you like that? Did she want you to drop him?

You weren't even his girlfriend and yet she went to such lengths to get back at him.

She's even worse than I thought.

"I know you probably don't want to believe me right now, because he seems like your only true friend and he did all these things for you. But all those things he does for you, are just another way for him to feel good about himself in some sick and twisted way."

What the fuck is wrong with her?

"Why would he buy all these things for you? Why would he make you change your style if he only wants to be your friend?"

She had a point, it might seem strange from the outside, but you knew that Nate only did that for you. He only gave you advice and compliments, and honestly? You felt way better about yourself compared to before.

"I appreciate your concern but it's really not like that, okay? I've known Nate for some time now, and if he would be as ‘deranged’ as you claim he is, I would've noticed by now, don't you think?" You responded as friendly as you could.

Maddy scoffed in return "Don't you think he's able to hide that? Of course he’s not violent towards you, you're like his new obsession. What would he do without you?" Maddy asked sarcastically.

"Maddy!" Nate's angry voice echoed through the hallway, making both of you flinch in surprise.

Maddy was scared, she knew what he was capable of, but she tried to keep her cool as he approached you two. "I told you to stay away from her, didn't I?" he said, his tone harsher than usual as he stared you down.

The hallway was almost empty, since most of the students were in the cafeteria already, but the ones that weren't, eyed the three of you. And it made you even more nervous.

You swallowed before nodding "I-I'm sorry-" "I talked to her first," Maddy interrupted. "someone had to warn her. Before you destroy her life as well."

That fucking bitch

She just couldn't keep her mouth shut, and it was pissing him off more and more. But Nate couldn't let his façade falter, especially not in front of you.

"You're insane... You always act like the victim, Maddy. You're so fucking desperate for attention that you involve innocent people."

You were so confused, first Maddy confronts you out of nowhere and then he appeared all of a sudden. And the other students were still staring as well.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You-" "Just like back then, when you fucked that guy in front of everyone. Did you enjoy the attention? Did you enjoy humiliating me like that?" Maddy's eyes widened as she scoffed, she couldn’t believe Nate was putting on this show in front of everyone "Don't even try to compare that to the stuff that you did, Nate."

Nate chuckled drily in response. "I love how you don't even deny it. Or how you lied about that guy taking advantage of you while you were drunk." He took a step closer to her "Don't ever talk to her again, do you hear me? If I see you fucking talking to her one more time, it's over for you."

Nate threatened as Maddy's eyes widened ever so slightly. Nate grabbed your hand and almost dragged you after him as he walked towards the cafeteria.

You stumbled along as he took big steps, you didn't dare to speak, you weren’t even sure what to say. Once you reached the table, Nate sat down pulling you along with him.

You looked straight ahead, too afraid to look into his eyes. Nate sighed "Y/n... Look at me." You slowly moved your gaze towards him. He looked worried, as if he had lost you, the anger from earlier seemingly gone.

But only on the outside.

On the inside he was fuming, wishing he had choked Maddy harder back at the carnival.

"I'm sorry for being angry back there... I just know how much shit Maddy talks, and I don't want you to worry about anything just because she needed attention again."

You nodded slowly "I'm sorry, yeah?" he repeated as he softly stroked your cheek with his large hand. You melted into his touch as you smiled and nodded once again. "I shouldn't have talked to her in the first place."

Nate smiled softly. He adored you so much, Maddy would always fight with him when he got angry, but you? You didn't, you simply accepted his apology and told him it's fine, accepting that he's the way he is.

"Yeah but it's not your fault. You're just nice to the wrong people sometimes." He reassured you once again.

Nate was still incredibly pissed at Maddy but seeing you smile and lean into his touch made him feel so much better. It was insane how good he felt when he was with you, how easily you trusted him.

Nate needed to keep you close to him, he couldn't afford to lose you and he 100% meant what he said to Maddy.

He'd destroy her if she ever tries something stupid again.

"So, what's the special occasion?" You chuckled as you walked into the fancy restaurant Nate had picked out for the evening.

He told you to wear something pretty because you'd go out tonight. Needless to say, your mom was not impressed.

All she heard was 'Nate' and 'going out once it's dark outside' and she was immediately alarmed. Telling you to send her a text at least every hour.

She wasn't that displeased with your outfit this time though. You wore a midi dress with floral patterns and a v-neckline, combined with black flats and a necklace with a heart shaped pendant.

Nate definitely had plans for tonight.

It's been a month since you first met, and he decided that it would be the perfect day to finally ask you to be his.

This had to be the first time Nate was genuinely nervous to ask a girl out.

He was sure that you liked him too, but you never made any advances towards him. The only thing he did notice however, was your sour expression whenever some of the cheerleaders, or any girl for that matter, would talk to him.

He could tell that you got jealous, maybe even compared yourself to them, completely unaware of the fact that Nate only had eyes for you.

"Well, I'll tell you after we ate. Let's get inside first." He smiled as he took in your outfit once more while you walked inside the fancy restaurant. You didn't dare to move from Nate's side, too nervous once you saw how huge the restaurant was on the inside.

Nate greeted the receptionist and talked to him for a moment before he lead you to a beautifully decorated table for two.

Before you could even grab your chair, Nate was quick to pull it out for you to sit on. God, he's so attentive..

You smiled as you sat down "Thank you, sir." you said jokingly. Nate smiled as he responded "You're very welcome."

Once he sat down he passed you one of the two menu cards, before taking the other one himself. "By the way, I'm paying tonight so don't worry and order whatever you want alright?" he smiled warmly as he placed his hand on top of yours.

You looked up from the menu and locked eyes with Nate, ready to protest "Nate-" he shook his head immediately "Listen, it was my idea to take you here, and like I said, today is a special day and I wanna pay for it. So please let me, yeah?"

You sighed, knowing it's useless to protest anyways "Alright.." Nate chuckled, finding your pouty expression absolutely cute. You shyly looked down onto the table before you continued to speak "Can you... help me pick something out?"

He loved it so much when you gave him control, loved you so much.

"Of course, ba-" he cleared his throat, before taking the menu and looking for something nice, hoping you didn't notice that he almost called you 'baby'.

"Alright.. how about this?" He asked as he pointed onto something on the menu. You nodded, sure that you couldn't go wrong with pasta "I trust you. I bet you go here often."

Nate pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm not that often, I think I went here like twice. I really only go here on special occasions but so far I wasn't disappointed."

Another lie.

He visited the restaurant often, his parents sometimes ordered food there as well. He had plenty of chances to test out how good their quality was. And since today would be important, he had to make sure everything was perfect.

Once the two of you finished your food, Nate was quick to call a waitress over. The waitress came over to your table, a smile on her face as she asked "Would you like to pay with cash or card?" Nate opened his wallet, before he pulled out his card "Card, please."

The waitress got her device out of her pocket and set it up before Nate quickly swiped his card over the display. It was such a simple task and yet he made it look so attractive.

Before the waitress could leave, Nate quickly pulled a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet and gave it to her. Your eyes widened as you realized that that was his tip "T-thank you, sir.." The waitress stuttered.

Nate usually doesn't tip that generously, he couldn't care less to be honest, but he wanted to impress you as much as he possibly could.

The two of you got up, and walked towards the exit of the restaurant, leaving the fancy place. "So, would you mind letting me in on your plan?" You asked as you walked towards his car.

Nate grinned sheepishly "Impatient, aren't we?" You jokingly rolled your eyes in response "Keep in mind that I have to be home in a bit." You reminded him as you walked ahead of him.

Nate suddenly grabbed your hand and spun you around, resulting in you stumbling into his chest. You looked up at him before taking a step back, your hand still in his "Don't worry your pretty little head, I already took care of that." Nate proudly announced.

You were beyond confused at this point. "Huh? What do you mean?" Nate chuckled at your confused expression. "I talked to your dad the other day when I was at yours. Told him that you'd 'be at a party' at my place today. He agreed and told me you could sleep at mine and that he'd talk to your mom about it."

You blinked up at Nate, surprised that he lied to your dad just so you could sleep at his. It had to be serious if he'd go that far "Wow... I... really?"

To be honest, it didn't go exactly like that, because he barely even listened to Nate, which obviously made him furious. He genuinely just wanted to club him with the nearest object.

He didn't understand how anyone could be so uninterested in his own family, especially you. Sure, he was happy that your dad agreed to let you sleep at his place, but he didn't even care about the reason, he just wanted to go back to doing whatever the fuck was more important, on his phone.

Your dad just came from work at that time, but Nate's pretty sure that he's always like this, simply from the stories he's heard from you.

"W-wait.. I didn't even pack things for that.. And you’re sure my dad just agreed like that?" Nate nodded "Yeah he did, and it's no problem I'll find something for you to sleep in, don't worry." Nate reasoned.

He couldn't wait for you to be in his clothes, in his bed, snuggled against him under his blanket. Fuck, he couldn't wait until he could finally wrap his arms around you and hold you close to him that you can't leave him.

Nate thought about sleeping next to you so often. He obviously also thought about sleeping with you and it felt like a dream each time.

He’d treat you like the goddess that you are.

Nate already made it his goal to make you cum as many times as possible before you pass out, and he'd do anything just to hear you moan his name. Just the thought alone had him throbbing in his pants.

"Nate?"

Shit, he had to control himself and prevent his problem from growing. "Yeah? Sorry, I got lost in thoughts." You chuckled at his flustered response and expression. You didn't know how people could be scared of him, not when he was this cute.

"You're so cute sometimes." Nate didn't expect you to say that. He's been called many things so far but that was new. And he definitely would’ve prefered any other compliment.

In his opinion, 'cute' was something you'd say to your girlfriend, or maybe a baby or your pet but not to a guy like him.

He swallowed his pride and put on a smile "You're definitely cuter." He said as he leaned down, his face almost directly in front of yours.

You gulped before laughing nervously, your eyes wandering around in an attempt to avoid his intense gaze. Nate smirked before walking past you "C'mon let's go." He said as he opened the car door for you.

The ride was pretty quiet, mostly because you still tried to figure out what Nate could've possibly planned.

You were sure that it wasn't his birthday today, since you've talked about birthdays before.

Nate parked his car and the two of you walked towards what appeared to be a park, with a white gazebo in the middle. Now you were genuinely starting to worry.

It was starting to get dark already, the sun almost gone as the two of you were in a seemingly empty park, heading towards a gazebo.

Nate could sense your hesitation in the way you walked a bit slower and looked around, observing your environment. "We're almost done I promise." Was all he said as he entered the fancy gazebo, sitting down on the bench inside.

You followed him inside, looking at him like a lost puppy. Nate smiled warmly as he patted the free spot next to him on the bench. You sighed nervously before finally sitting down, your gaze locked onto Nate.

He was really happy that you could finally look at him without hesitation, unlike the first time he met you. You got so much more comfortable around him in general.

He cleared his throat before he started talking "Alright, so.. I bet you're wondering what's going on." You nodded eagerly "Let me ask you something," He said as he fully turned towards you "Do you know what happened one month ago, exactly on this day?"

You looked into his eyes trying to search for hints, but found none. You tried to think back, repeating the date over and over again in your head but to no avail. You shook your head in response, a small pout on your lips.

Nate chuckled "One month ago was the first time we met each other, do you remember?" He asked carefully, and your eyes lit up afterwards, remembering how kind he was from the beginning. "Of course I remember, you really saved me, I thought I was just destined to stay alone forever until I met you." You smiled as you thought of all the great memories you and Nate had so far.

Nate felt relieved that you felt that way, and not like he was the reason barely anyone dared to talk to you. Which he obviously was, with the way he glared at anyone who even dared to look at you in the hallways.

"I'm glad you think so, y/n. And I've been think about this, and about you for a long time." You tilted your head to the side as you waited for him to continue "I really really like you, y/n. Not in a way.. a friend should like another friend."

Your smile dropped as you finally understood what was going on. The fancy dinner, the fancy gazebo, him mentioning the first time you met. No, there's no way, he wouldn't- "I love you, y/n. I know this might be sudden right now, but I just had to tell you today. The date was perfect and I... I'm tired of hiding this from you."

Nate despised how vulnerable he was in front of you right now, but he also knew that he might be more successful this way, that him showing some emotions would result in you saying yes.

"I know that you haven't been in a relationship yet and I promise I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. We can take things slow."

You suddenly felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest. Nate was asking you to be his girlfriend..

He planned all of this to ask you to be his girlfriend.

You did not expect that. You weren't sure what you were expecting but this wasn't on your list. "Nate I... I don't know what to say..." Was all you managed to whisper as you averted your gaze.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel something for him, and the fact that he put so much effort into asking you out also touched you, but you were so scared of losing him, you needed him whether you wanted to admit it or not. You couldn't even imagine living without him from now on so why did you hesitate?

Nate stayed quiet as well, before reaching for your hand, in an attempt to get you to look at him "Y/n, I get it, you probably didn't expect me to say all that, but I genuinely mean it." You slowly raised your head and looked into his eyes once again.

The look he gave you was filled with sincerity and love and you wanted to hug him and tell him that everything is gonna be fine, that you're his "You know that I might not be here for long... I couldn't live with the fact that I have to leave you behind. What if you'll feel like you're wasting your time with me?"

Nate quickly shook his head "I'll never think like that, and I already told you that I'll find a solution if that should happen." Nates grip on your hand tightened before he added "Just tell me what you want right now. Without thinking of things that might or might not happen."

You sighed "I want to be with you, I just... really didn't think you'd actually want someone like me to be your girlfriend, so I never considered it.." Nate frowned.

'Someone like you’? What did you mean by that? Nate was sure that there was no one better than you, that you were the perfect choice for him.

"There's nothing wrong with you, and I'll tell you that over and over again if I have to. You're everything I want, I don't need someone else I only need you, I already told you that before." He replied, searching for your eyes once again.

You suddenly remembered that day you went over to his place and his brother showed up. When you sat on the sofa with him and he told you that you were everything he needed. So he really meant it like that.

You looked at him, a sad smile on your face "I need you too, no one has ever been able to make me feel so loved and important... Not even my parents... I can’t imagine going back to that… I mean, I was miserable before I met you." Nate tried to hide his smirk when he heard that.

He absolutely loved how dependent you were on him, he knew you'd need him eventually.

He softly placed his hand on your cheek, hoping you'd melt into his touch like you did back when he first did it in the cafeteria.

And you didn't disappoint him.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of his touch in the chilly breeze. "Please.. Give me a chance to prove you I'll treat you good." Nate softly pleaded.

You opened your eyes, looking at him "I'd never doubt that, Nate.. I'm just really worried I-" Nate sighed before retrieving his hand, and you hated it, hated how cold you felt again.

"It's about what Maddy told you, isn't it?" Nate asked, his tone rougher than before. You quickly shook your head "No! Oh my god of course not. I know that she's lying." You scooted closer to Nate, your hands finding his this time.

"I trust you.. Only you."

Nate looked at you, a small frown still evident on his features. He kept quiet, hoping that it'll give you the final push to say yes.

You sighed as you thought for a moment. You liked him too, so why not give him a chance? You'll probably never be this lucky again. This is what you wanted, what you dreamed of.

You deserved some happiness for once. And you were sure he'd make you happy, just like he already did. And you'd do your best to make him happy as well.

"Nate, I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Nate almost jumped off the bench. You finally said yes, you were finally officially his. His eyes immediately lit up and he pulled you into probably the tightest hug you've ever had.

Nate sighed in relief, everything worked just like he wanted it to. No one would take you away from him now.

That was probably his biggest fear, that some guy would make a move on you and steal you from him. And it would've been so unfair too, because he was the one who turned you into his obedient pretty girl.

In his eyes, no one deserved you more than he did.

"I promise you won't regret it, yeah?" He mumbled into your neck before raising his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to your cheek.

You giggled as you tried to process the fact that Nate Jacobs was now your boyfriend. Once Nate let go of you, you noticed how cold it had gotten, and you shivered slightly.

Nate frowned "Are you cold? We can go home if you want to." He offered. "That might be a good idea. Only if you want to though."

Nate appreciated that you still let him decide, even though you were cold already.

He chuckled before standing up "C'mere." He said as he extended his arm. You stood up and walked towards him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, before the two of you walked to his car.

Nate knew that he had to introduce you to his parents and he absolutely hated it. He knew that if he simply told you to go upstairs, you might think he doesn't want you to meet them.

You were quick to misinterpret things negatively sometimes and he didn't want you to worry about his parents not liking you or something.

You once asked him, when you came over for the fifth time why you haven’t seen his parents yet. And he told you he only invites you over when he's alone, because they’re weird. He quickly made sure to tell you that he just simply 'dislikes' his whole family to put it nicely.

Once he parked the car, he turned towards you and placed his hand on your thigh to grab your attention. You looked up at him with your beautiful eyes and he could've kissed you right then and there but he wasn't sure if that would've been too soon for you.

"Listen, my parents are probably home right now... Just a heads up, they might want to meet you. Are you okay with that?" He asked softly.

You felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest.

You've never seen them before, except on the family picture on the wall at the staircase. You had no idea what you had to expect. "I'm kinda scared to be honest.." You replied nervously. "What if they don't like me?"

Nate scoffed before shaking his head "Don't worry, they only hated Maddy, because she was really rude and she called my mother a cunt." Your eyes widened in shock "She did what?" You asked in disbelief.

Nate nodded as he looked outside the window "I told you, she was intense..." You scoffed in response "Yeah definitely, did she even contribute anything good to the relationship?" You asked genuinely curious.

Nate thought for a moment, did she?

"Well not really, but I don't care anymore. I have you now. You could never disappoint me the way she did, so don’t worry." He responded with a smile before undoing his and your seatbelt.

Once the two of you got out of the car and Nate locked the doors, he took your hand in his and walked towards the entrance.

He was kind of nervous as well since his dad could be unpredictable. But Nate already told his mom that he might bring you home today and she was thrilled to meet you.

He sighed before unlocking the door and walking inside with you. He just hoped Aaron wasn't at home or at least not downstairs this time.

You started taking your shoes off as quietly as possible, hoping that they wouldn't hear or notice you. Nate also took his shoes off before you walked the living room together.

His mom sat on the sofa with a glass of wine. As soon as she noticed the two of you, she placed her glass down on the coffee table and walked over to the two of you with a friendly grin.

"Hello sweetie, you must be y/n." She exclaimed before hugging you subtly. She then took a small step back and looked at you.

"Yes.. It's so nice to meet you.." You said as you tried to smile at her and maintain eye contact. You knew it would've been rude to not look at her, but you were still pretty nervous.

Then she looked you up and down, which made you even more insecure "Wow... gorgeous and polite, seems like Nate finally found the right one." Nate rolled his eyes before taking your hand back in his "Alright mom, we'll be upstairs then." He announced.

"Oh already? But-" "Yeah it's been a pretty rough week, we'll talk tomorrow." He interrupted before almost dragging you along with him towards the stairs "Again, it was nice meeting you Mrs. Jacobs."

You quickly added before following him "Likewise, Honey!" You truly loved how sweet she was. Your mom barely called you Honey, or Sweetie. She only used your name when she called for you.

Just as Nate thought he finally had you to himself, he heard the front door unlock.

He debated on whether he should turn around or not, before deciding against it and simply walking upstairs in front of you. Until he heard the person speak

"Aren't you gonna introduce me to your new girlfriend Nate?" It was Cal.

Nate was surprised when he entered the living room earlier and saw that his Mom seemed to be alone. But he was glad and hoped it'd stay that way.

But sadly it didn’t.

Nate sighed as he looked at you not sure whether to tell you to go ahead to his room or actually allow his asshole dad to introduce himself.

He noticed how Cal moved towards the stairs before he looked at you "I'm Cal, pleasure to meet you." He said before extending his hand.

You shook it, trying to mimic his firm grip but failing miserably. "I'm Y/n.." You almost whispered as you avoided his piercing gaze. You then retreated your hand before adding "a-also pleased to meet you."

You couldn't tell why but you felt the atmosphere shift in a way. It was.. eerily quiet. And you knew that there was something going on between Nate and his Dad. Simply by the way they stared at each other, and the way Nate talked about him sometimes.

"Alright, we're gonna go upstairs then." Nate said drily before gesturing for you to walk ahead. You quickly walked up the stairs, happy that you'd be alone with him soon again.

You didn't mind talking to his mom, but his dad scared the shit out of you. There was just something so dark about him. You wouldn't want to be alone with him.

Once Nate finally closed the door behind you two, you sighed out of relief. "Sorry about him, he really knows how to make people uncomfortable.." Nate grumbled when he saw the relief on your face.

"It wasn't that bad." You lied as you chuckled nervously. "You don't have to lie to me. I saw how nervous you got when you shook his hand." Nate responded before plopping down on his bed and sighing.

Why couldn’t he just move out and live with you? All alone somewhere secluded where he has you to himself, far away from his and your family.

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to meet my parents." He reasoned. You walked towards him, and lied down beside him before placing your head on his firm chest "Don't worry it.. really wasn't that bad. I think your mom is really nice."

Yeah totally

Nate closed his eyes as he enjoyed the weight of your head on his chest. He could’ve stayed like this forever.

Until your phone vibrated in your bag.

You groaned before getting up and rummaging through your bag until you found it.

It was your mom, great… You totally forgot to text her during the entire time.

6 new messages

mom: Hey, when are you gonna come home? 5:45 pm

mom: Just talked to your dad.. Are you really going to sleep at his place?? 5:58 pm

mom: Are you okay? 6:20 pm

mom: If you want me to pick you up you can call me 6:49 pm

mom: hellooo? 7:02 pm

mom: please text me back when you see this I’m worried 7:15 pm

“Holy shit…” You scoffed. “What? Is it your mom?” You nodded before walking back to bed and showing him your chat.

Nates eyes widened in both amazement and terror. “Jesus, she’s so controlling.” You nodded while you quickly texted her back.

You had to give her Nate’s address some time ago, when you went over to his place more frequently. You were sure she’d actually get in her car and come over if you wouldn’t reply to her.

you: I’m fine everything is okay! stop worrying so much 7:17 pm

Nate got up from his bed and headed towards his closet, grabbing a basic tee and some shorts before he handed them over to you “Here you can wear this, I hope it’s fine.”

You nodded and smiled at him “Of course, thank you.” He smiled back at you for a moment “I’ll go to the bathroom, yeah?” He said before heading towards his bathroom.

You decided to get dressed while he’s gone, slipping out of your dress, folding it as best as you could and placing it neatly next to his bed. Then you put on his shirt, which was in fact long enough to cover your thighs, and his shorts.

You sat back on Nate’s bed until he came back from his bathroom. Despite being in his room so many times before, you never slept at his place. Because you’re mother was against it of course.

But you had to admit it was smart of Nate to lie to your dad about having a party, and saying that many people were gonna sleep at his, and you wouldn’t be alone with him.

You wondered if Nate had to lie to his parents like that too.

His mom was way more understanding than yours was, so probably not. And she seemed so kind too, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Maddy insulted her like that.

You wished you would’ve moved here earlier, simply because you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a lot going on that you didn’t know of.

Like the Cassie situation for example.

You knew almost nothing about her, and it kinda scared you, because Nate mentioned that she was insane and extremely obsessed with him.

You didn’t even know what she looked like, so how were you supposed to stay out of her way?

You were certain that it would just be a question of time until she’d approach you as well. And you were also pretty sure that she won’t be as nice or as rational as Maddy was.

Sure, Maddy said all these bad things out of spite and because she hated her ex boyfriend. But Cassie? What if she’s still in love with him and finds out that you two are dating?

Nate entered the room again, taking in the sight of you in his clothes as you sat leaned against his bed frame staring ahead with wide eyes.

You looked so adorable and so… distracted for some reason. Nate walked up to you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “What’s on your mind?” He asked as he stood in front of you.

The way you craned your head up to look at him, made him feel things he shouldn’t feel. Especially since your head was at eye level with his crotch.

He tried to focus on whatever you were going to tell him nonetheless “I’m just… worried. You told me about Cassie being obsessed with you and… what if she finds out I’m your girlfriend?”

Nate sighed. Because you had a point, but he really didn’t want to think of her or talk about her anymore. He was already glad that she barely went to school after their break up, and that he could keep you far away from her.

“You don’t have to worry about her, I told you I’ll protect you. Cassie is crazy but she’s harmless, except for yelling she can’t do much.” He tried to reassure you.

You looked down as you fiddled with the hem of Nate’s shirt.

You already were an anxious person, so the fact that your boyfriend only dated crazy people in the past, wasn’t exactly helpful.

“I feel safe with you… but we’re not always together at school, and I… don’t have any friends.” That’s when you realized just how alone you actually were without Nate.

You had no friends at all, now that Nate wasn’t your friend anymore but your boyfriend. It was sad, really. But what you didn’t seem to realize was that it wasn’t your fault at all.

It was Nate’s.

He was convinced you didn’t need anyone but him, even if that meant you’d have no friends. What would you need them for anyway when you had him?

Nate frowned “But you’re not alone either, you have me. Or… am I not enough?” He frowned. You immediately shook your head “No, of course you’re enough. You’re more than enough, that’s not what I meant.”

Nate smiled in response before you added “I just see all these girls walk through school with their friends and.. it makes me feel sad because I don’t have any friends I can talk to or walk through school with.. I sometimes feel like I’m getting on your nerves because I talk to you so much.”

Nate scoffed as he walked towards the TV "C'mon you could never annoy me." He assured you as he turned the TV on. Then he turned off the main light and plopped down next to you before turning on the bedside lamp.

When you didn't respond to him, he added "I understand that you want to have friends at school, but most of the girls at school are... awful. They're fake, and really mean and all they care about is boys and sex."

You really wanted to believe him but there’s just no way every single girl was like that. And Nate also couldn’t possibly know every single girl at school.

Nate looked at you and it was almost as if he could read your thoughts, because he knew you didn’t quite believe him.

And it irritated him.

You always believed him everything so why were you questioning him now?

He quickly changed the topic in an attempt to put a stop to your thoughts. “I still can’t believe you’re mine by the way...” He said as he softly intertwined his fingers with yours, smiling at you.

And it worked like a charm.

You smiled shyly as you avoided his somewhat intense gaze. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to him looking at you like that.

Nate decided to take it a step further, stroking your cheek with his other hand until you slowly looked back at him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly, almost as if he was scared you’d say no.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to kiss you, but you literally never kissed anyone before and you were scared that Nate would laugh at you.

“Um… yeah just… please don’t laugh at me.” you chuckled. Nate smirked “Don’t worry, I won’t. We’ll take it slow, yeah?” He said as he scooted closer.

He let go of your hand and moved it to your left cheek instead, cupping it gently as he pulled your face closer. He leaned in until his lips finally touched yours.

The feeling was foreign but you enjoyed it nonetheless. His lips were so soft as they moved against your own. You tried to mimic his movements as your brows furrowed in concentration.

Nate slowly broke the kiss as he searched your face for any sign of discomfort “How did it feel?” He asked as his eyes were glued to your lips. “It felt.. really good.” You responded quietly.

“Can we try again?” You asked as you fiddled with you shirt again.

Fuck, why were you so cute?

“Sure, of course.” Nate responded “You can touch me too, you know?” He added as he took your right hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Oh, okay..” You smiled before leaning in again.

Nate pressed his lips against yours once again. He could tell you were more eager this time when you leaned in first. You tilted your head slightly, like you had seen on TV several times, and it already felt more natural and deeper than the first kiss.

You felt incredibly excited with how close Nate was to you right now, and you also had this warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

It was almost like your body worked on its own. Your hand slid from his shoulder to his neck as you closed your eyes, and your lips finally seemed to move more in sync.

Nates hand moved to your waist in an attempt to pull you even closer, while your unoccupied hand moved to his cheek.

He pressed kiss after kiss onto your lips making sure to take his time with you, some kisses lasting longer than others.

You were the first one to break the kiss this time, since you were running out of breath. “Wow.. that was amazing.” You chuckled as you slowly removed your hands from Nate.

He smirked at you, clearly happy that you enjoyed kissing him, because he felt the same way. He was definitely glad that you didn’t straddle his lap though, because then you probably would’ve felt just how happy he truly was.

“Wanna do it again?”

✎ Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part as well. If you have any questions/feedback please let me know ♡

- Cassandra

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

The Prince - Chapter Six

A/N: Hello hello! Here I am with more pain for you, my friends! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your support on this fic! We are over halfway done with the story and I hope you all stick it out until the end. As always, keep the likes, reblogs, and comments coming, and let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader bask in the glow of finally acting on their feelings, only for that light to be stomped out as Jeyne arrives in King's Landing and Baela learns of their relationship.

Tag List: Hi all, it seems like the taglist is being wonky (thanks tumblr) so instead of tagging you all here, I'll tag you in the comments, that way I know it actually gives you the notification!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Jace awakes early that next morning, his first thoughts immediately of you. As he dresses for the day, he is thinking only of ways to steal a moment alone with you, and what he’ll do when he does. He passes one of the servants on his way out the door, foregoing the breakfast they are bringing in.

He moves down the hallway quickly, no particular plan in mind, except to run into you somehow. However, when he turns down the next hallway from his own, it’s not your face he sees, but his mother’s.

“Jace,” she says with a smile, “You’re up early.”

“Yes,” he says, stopping in front of her. She brushes a hand to his cheek, studying his face for a moment.

“Any particular reason for your early morning?” she asks. The look in her eye says that she suspects but is giving him the opportunity to deny the events of last night.

“Just eager to start the day,” he says with a half-smile. She nods her head, completely disbelieving him.

“I’ve given thought to your request,” she says, taking his arm in hers. He walks in pace with her, towards her council chambers. “I want to give you my blessing, Jace. You have proven yourself time and again, especially during the war, to be a perfect heir. You deserve to be happy,” she says, looking at him.

“So why can’t you?” he asks.

“Baela,” she says simply.

“Our family is already well connected with the Velaryons, through your marriage to Daemon,” he says, “What advantage to our line is there if we marry?”

“She fought alongside me as well,” Rhaenyra says. “She expects to be queen. She's earned it.”

“I know,” Jace says on a sigh.

“I can’t in good conscience cut her out like that,” she says. They fall into silence for a moment as they near the council door. “Has something happened, Jace?” she asks. “You seem . . . changed.”

“I am,” he says with a smile. She searches his face with a furrowed brow.

“I will keep considering it,” she says, “I don’t want to hurt you, or Baela. I am afraid that whichever way I chose, I am heading towards that path, anyhow.”

“Baela doesn’t want to marry me either,” he says. Rhaenyra gives him a disbelieving look. “Really. She feels the same as me.”

“If that’s the case, I will happily relieve you of this betrothal. But I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Jace,” she says, “Baela would be giving up the crown, not just you.”

“What are you smiling about?” Joffrey asks.

“What?”

“You’re smiling,” he says, gesturing towards the wall you had been staring at. “At nothing.”

“Sorry,” you say, averting your gaze from him, and back to the book in front of you. Joffrey had requested your aid in helping him learn about his future seat, Driftmark. You have maybe read a page, so distracted are your thoughts.

“Did something happen?” he asks, leaning in closer. His eyes meet yours. “With Jace?”

“What?” you ask quick, shaking your head. “Of course not.”

“Your blush says otherwise,” Joffrey says.

“Why are we talking about me at all?” you ask, “I thought we were learning about . . .” You glance down at the book in front of you, picking the first word you read, “High Tide.”

“Tell me what you know about the building of High Tide,” Joffrey says, a smug look on his face. You open your mouth, planning to bullshit your way through an answer, but Joffrey starts laughing. You roll your eyes, trying to hide your own smile.

“Just tell me what happened,” he says.

“Nothing happened!” you say, a bit too loudly. You both peer around the library, making sure no one turned their attention to the two of you. When you’re sure they haven’t, you say again, “Nothing happened.”

“I’ll pretend to believe you,” Joffrey says, sitting back in his chair. For the next ten minutes, you sit in quiet, actually reading the words in front of you, just to ensure that Joffrey can’t catch you daydreaming again. He is the first to break the silence.

“Hello, brother,” he says. You exhale through your nose, not lifting your head.

“Not funny, Joff,” you mutter.

“Good day, Y/N.” You lift your head, a blush already forming across your cheeks, as you see Jacaerys standing next to you.

“Your Highness,” you say breathlessly. Jace has a smile on his face that he seems to be trying to hide. Joffrey looks between the two of you, a giddy look spreading across his face.

“Right,” he says, looking to you, “Nothing happened.” You glare at him, but Jace only laughs at his brother.

“What brings you to the library, brother?” Joffrey asks.

“I wanted to see how your studies are going,” Jace says with a shrug.

“I am here every day,” Joffrey says, “You’ve never once come to check upon me.”

“Well then, all the better I’m here now,” Jace says, his hand nervously clutching the pommel of his sword.

“Lady Y/N could tell you better than I,” Joffrey says, “She’s just read up on the forming of High Tide.” Their attention turns to you, and all you can do is glare daggers at Joffrey.

“I regret ever offering to help you,” you say, flipping the page back to High Tide.

“As do I,” he says, “You’ve been of no help.”

“You’re right,” you say, closing the book, “I’ve been a distraction.”

“You have,” he says, smirking, “But really, I think it’s more my brother’s fault than your own.”

“Joff,” Jace warns.

“You both should probably leave and attend to other matters,” he says with a wave of his hand. You are equally annoyed and enamored to him. He can clearly see that something has changed, and although he is being a jerk, it is for the two of you.

“Good luck with your studies, My Prince,” you say, standing. Jace is suddenly so much closer than you realized, and you both take a step back quickly. Joffrey lets out a tut of laughter.

“Can you put these back?” he asks, gesturing to the books littering the table. “I’m sure Jace would be happy to help you.” You exchange a look with Jace that sends dragon fire to you.

“You are incorrigible,” you mutter to Joffrey, picking up all the books. “I don’t really need your help, Your Highness,” you say to Jace. He gives you a small smile and nods.

“I’d like to help, nonetheless. At the very least to show you that not all the princes are as horrible as this one,” he says, glaring at Joffrey. The younger boy just smiles.

Jace follows you down the long hallway in between the stacks. You keep your back ramrod straight, as if just his close proximity sends a chill over you. You turn down the aisle where the books initially came from, and Jace takes the books from you seamlessly. One by one, you put them back in their respective spaces.

“What was he on about?” Jace asks quietly.

“Just being insufferable,” you say with a smirk.

“About what though?” he asks, a smile on his face to match your own. You look down for a moment, laughing to yourself. Jace takes your hand in his own, drawing your eyes up to his.

“He thought something might have happened between us,” you whisper, the smile never leaving your face.

“I see.”

“Obviously, I told him he was imagining things.”

“Is he?” Jace asks, a playful look on his face. Slowly, he leans in closer, his lips just brushing against yours. You sigh into the kiss, into the taste of him that you have craved since last night. A hand to his shirt, you pull him into you. Jace grips your waist, smiling against your mouth as he presses you into the stack of books.

At that moment, the library becomes your new favorite spot in the castle. Secluded in the rows of books, no one hears the slight whimper you make when Jace kisses along your neck. The shelves are so abandoned, the sound of Jace’s frustration when you break away from him, your teeth pulling on his lower lip as you do, is heard only by you. He lets out a breath, laughing softly.

“What?” you ask.

“I’ve never needed someone like this before,” he says.

“Me either,” you say. His hands and yours are still on each other.

“Joffrey is going to be very smug if we’re back here any longer,” you say.

“Let him,” Jace says, kissing your lips again.

For the next few days, every moment you and Jace can find to get your hands on each other, you take. Whether its meeting him in the dark hallways that lead to the sparring grounds, pulling you into a servant’s hallway, or your midnight meetings in your quarters, you can’t seem to get enough of him. All thoughts of suitor hunting have fled your mind.

Sometimes, after he leaves your quarters, or when you’re returning to your own, guilt seeps into you. Not only are you not doing what Jeyne requested, but you are going behind the backs of the family who brought you here. At night, you tell yourself that it must be the last, until you see Jace the next day. It was true – he was ruining you – but you were gladly letting him.

Jace lips are on yours the next day. Even though you spent the night before together, your need to be with him only seems to be growing.

“Y/N,” Jace says against your mouth.

“What?” you ask, in between kisses.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning back from you.

“Nothing,” you say, reaching for him. He takes your hand but stays back from you.

“You can tell me anything,” he says, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

“I know,” you say.

“So, tell me," he says. You sigh, looking down at your entwined hands.

“I love you,” you begin, “And I love being with you, but I also know that we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Y/N,” he says softly, pulling you closer. “There might still be a way this all works out.”

“Maybe,” you say, giving him a soft smile, “Logically, though, I know there is a greater chance that this all burns down around us.”

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, his eyes filled with pain.

“Not at all,” you whisper. You brush a hand over his face, bringing your lips together.

“I love you,” Jace says when he breaks away, “I’m not going to give you up without a fight.”

Jeyne arrives later that same day. You had know of her arrival for months now, but still her presence surprises you. Too long, your thoughts had lied only with Jace, and unfortunately, Jeyne had fallen to the back of your mind.

Queen Rhaenyra invites you both to a dinner with her family, wanting to officially thank Jeyne for sheltering her sons and Rhaena during the war. Seeing her makes you realize how much you’ve missed her.

As always, she is the center of attention, regaling the group with stories from the Vale, embarrassing anecdotes about you, Rhaena, and the boys. Multiple times in the evening, you catch her eyes lingering on you for a long moment, or glancing between you and Jace. You even catch her looking at Balea, looking to see if the princess can see what Jeyne herself was seeing quite clearly.

“So,” Jeyne says, flopping into a chair in your quarters after dinner, a smile on her face, “Tell me of all the excitements of King’s Landing.”

“I think you saw a great deal of it tonight.”

“Yes, I did notice some things,” she says, meeting your eyes with a knowing look. You try to hold it for a moment but too quickly have to look away. “The prince’s attentions seem to not have strayed from you."

“You think so?” you ask, sitting in the chair next to hers.

“Everyone at that table should think so, I presume. What they might not have noticed, though, was the look you gave the prince in return.”

“Jeyne,” you say quietly, a smile growing on your face. She furrows her brow at you, studying your face, until her face clears and a grin grows instead.

“You return his affections?” she asks.

“Yes,” you say, whisper soft. This is the first time you have been able to voice these feelings aloud, other than with Jace.

“Y/N!” she says excitedly, taking your hand in hers. “Your letters hinted that you were enjoying his attentions more than you had in the Vale, so I thought it was a possibility, but then your letters started coming less and less.”

“I’m sorry about that,” you say, “Things just got away from me.”

“Clearly,” she says with a cocked eyebrow. “So, what has happened between you two?”

“I love him, Jeyne,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “I don’t know how it happened, I was fighting it for so long and then sort of all at once I couldn't, but . . . I love him,” you say with a shrug, meeting her eyes. There is nothing but happiness on her face.

“Well, I can’t blame you for your changed feelings,” she says, “He has had quite the transformation since he came to the Vale.”

“He has,” you say, heat growing along your cheeks.

“Does anyone else know?” she asks.

“Joffrey, I think. Mostly, he’s just suspiciously accurate,” you say. “And, the prince has at least told the queen of his affections for me.”

“He means to break his betrothal?” Jeyne asks, her face immediately changing with interest.

“It won’t happen,” you say with a shake of your head. Suddenly, the fear from before is back, the crippling guilt.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Rhaenyra is not going to cut her husband’s daughter from the throne,” you say, “No matter how much she loves Jace.”

“Jace,” Jeyne says with a smile at the casual way you say his name. You let out a breath of laughter. “Does Rhaena not know then? Baela?”

“Neither of them knows,” you say. “Which has left me feeling awful, after all the work they’ve gone through to try and find me an appropriate suitor.”

“They have to be blind, to not see the way he looks at you,” she says. “I noticed it the very moment I met him, and again, when I arrived here. He loves you.”

“Regardless, the betrothal to Baela remains.”

“Well, how about the pursuits of your own?” she asks. “Anyone standing out?”

“No,” you say. “Not like Jace, and ever since I gave into these feelings, I have completely forgone the mating hunt.” A strange look passes over Jeyne’s face, one that dulls her good mood, but before you can ask about it, she jumps up from her seat.

“We need wine. This is the first I have seen you in months,” she says, gesturing to your lady’s maid. “And I only want to hear about the good.”

“Jeyne,” you start.

“No details until we have wine,” she says. When it is brought to the two of you, you thank Brigitta and pour the both of you a glass. Once Jeyne’s is in hand, she takes a hearty drink.

“So, tell me everything.”

The next morning, you are still feeling the effects of the wine. You forgot how much she likes to drink, and it has been a long time since you've kept up with her. Regardless of that, you feel lighter that morning. Keeping Jace a secret had been eating at you, and even though nothing had changed about the circumstances, you felt better just voicing your feelings.

You get out of bed, the morning light just beginning to pool into the room. You hear a soft snoring, and turn to your couch, where Jeyne had fallen asleep the night before. You had completely forgotten she was here, but just the sight of her makes you smile.

Brigitta enters into the room, startling you slightly, but a welcome addition altogether.

“Good morning, My Lady,” she says.

“Good morning, Brigitta,” you say. “I think we’ll need a few extra pastries this morning,” you say, rubbing your forehead. “And maybe that tonic from the Maester.”

“Of course, My Lady,” she says, “Before I fetch that though, I should tell you that the prince is waiting at your door."

“He’s what?” you ask in shock, a smile creeping its way across your face.

“At the door,” Brigitta repeats, with maybe a ghost of a smile on her own face. You move quickly towards the door, swinging it open so fast, it startles Jace.

“Sorry,” you say.

“That’s alright,” he says, looking between you and Brigitta, who is standing behind you. She shuffles by the two of you once you step out of the way. You beckon Jace into your room, making to tell him of Jeyne’s presence, but before you can, he grabs hold of you, wrapping you in his arms. His face burrows into your neck. You squeeze him just as tightly.

“Hi,” you say, when he pulls back enough to look at you.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you say, “It’s been so long that we haven’t spent the night together.”

“It was torturous,” Jace says. You laugh as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“Believe me, it was good to catch up with Jeyne, but I agree, it was quite torturous without you.”

“Glad to hear it.” You both snap your heads in the direction of Jeyne, who is sitting up on the couch, a smirk on her face. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she says to Jace. He is blushing furiously but nods his head to her.

“Lady Arryn.”

“You two are very beautiful together,” she says with a smile, “And I hate to part you, but I should remind you that Rhaena is meeting us for breakfast this morning.”

“I completely forgot,” you say, breaking from Jace’s arms. “You need to leave.” You begin to usher him towards the door, Jace laughing and coming up with half-hearted excuses to stay. At the door, he turns back to say something else or kiss you, but you only look at him sympathetically as you shut the door in his face.

“Thank you for reminding me about Rhaena,” you say, sitting down in the chair across from Jeyne. Brigitta walks in a minute later, a tray of pastries in her hand, and a pot of tea. You pour a cup for yourself and another for Jeyne, but she waves you off.

“Tell me, what did you mean by spend the night together?” Jeyne asks. “Don’t tell me you’ve bedded him.”

“Jeyne!” you scold, your cheeks flaming. “Of course we haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?" you ask in disbelief. "Because I am to be married, and most likely that husband is not going to be Jace.”

“Men can’t tell if you’ve done it before,” she says with a shrug. “Also, by the way he looks at you, he wants to badly.”

“It doesn’t matter if he does,” you say, taking a greedy, anxious bite of a pastry.

“It’d be good, I reckon,” she says, continuing, completely oblivious to your growing shame, and the fact that the door opened on the opposite end of the room. “With how much he loves you, he’d do you right.”

“You are shameless.”

“What is there to be shameful about!” she declares with a laugh. “Just sleep with him!”

“Stop it,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Why? I’m the one that saw your love from the start! That puppy dog look never left, it just got hornier, and it spread over to you, too.”

“What are you talking about?” Rhaena asks.

She stands in the entry way of your chambers, a smile on her face. She thinks this is another one of Jeyne’s jokes, that she’s talking about one of the suitors that she looked so hard to find for you. This is your worst fear coming true, and you see it all happening before it does. No gods come to stop it, no matter how hard you beg.

“Rhaena,” you say, standing quickly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Clearly,” she says. “Were you talking about . . . Jace?” she asks, looking between the two of you. “Joffrey said Jace was acting differently,” she says, brow furrowed, “He was teasing him, about falling in love. A puppy dog look . . .” she ponders, “They were referring to you.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you say quietly, knowing it’s a lie. Jeyne focuses her attention into her cup of tea.

“I know we used to joke about it,” Rhaena says, shaking her head. “I just never thought . . .”

“I promise you, nothing has come of our feelings,” you say, speaking too quickly to realize that you’ve slipped, in trying not to do so. Before you can correct yourself, Rhaena takes a step back.

“’Our’ feelings?” she repeats.

“Rhaena, I . . . What’s going on with Jace, it’s . . .” You give up trying. There is no explanation, because you can’t explain to yourself what’s going on with him. There are no steps to the dance you two are doing, no instructor to stop you from waltzing to your destruction.

“I need to go,” she says softly. “Good day, Lady Arryn.” She only gives you a look in parting as she walks back out through the doorway. You watch the closed door for too long, regret seeping into your bones.

“She’ll get over it,” Jeyne says, gently.

“She’s going to tell Baela!” you say, spinning to face her.

“If she doesn’t already know, she’s going to make a terrible wife,” she says with a sad laugh. You look at her in confusion, which makes her laughter stop. “Every nobleman cheats on his wife. If she doesn’t see it coming, she’s the one at fault.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say. About them both.”

“You think you’re the first wrong girl a prince ever fell for? It is an age-old story. They are bound by duty, they’ll produce heirs, but their hearts and their cocks still lie within the ones they truly loved,” she says sagely.

“And what happens to the girl?” you ask, “The one they really loved?” Jeyne looks at you for a long moment, her face falling even further. She swallows before speaking.

“Lord Blacktyde is a bachelor again,” she says softly. "His wife . . . died under mysterious circumstances."

“What?” you ask, your voice dropping as you do, too, into the seat across from her.

“I just got word a few days ago. I thought about writing, but it felt like something better shared in person."

“Of course,” you say with a shake of your head.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Jeyne," you say. "How long ago?"

"My source thought maybe two months back. Obviously, they've kept details about her death quiet," she says. She sighs as she meets your eyes. "I'm afraid he'll come looking for you again."

“I should be able to protect those of my house,” she says firmly, her eyes watering. “If he does come, I will do everything in my power to keep you from going with him. I won't stop--"

“I know you won’t,” you say carefully. “I'm so foolish for not finding a match quicker, we knew this was a possibility, I—”

“No, you are not foolish. At all.” She looks at you plainly for a long moment. “Fuck the prince, Y/N. You might never get the chance to be fucked by a man who loves you as much as he does. You deserve it at least once.”

“What about Baela? About—”

“What could she do?” she asks with a sad shrug. What fate, worse than Blacktyde, could she sentence you to, her words seem to mean. “She’ll get to fuck him her whole life. Only fair to give you a turn.”

Baela and Rhaena are standing in your room, talking in low, urgent whispers, when you return to your quarters, that night. When the door creaks open, they quiet and look at you. Rhaena’s expression is anxious, her eyes wide and watery. Baela’s is the exact opposite. Dragon fire is ablaze in her eyes, and you are smart enough to be nervous.

“Before you say anything,” you say, “I just want you to know that—”

“I don’t wish to hear what you have to say,” Baela says quickly. "No more lies, Y/N."

“I never lied to you,” you say. She lets out a tut of laughter.

“Maybe not to my face, but you certainly went behind my back with Jace.” You say nothing, because apologizing won’t do anything right now. “I don’t have to remind you of what the kingdom has just gone through. Another fight for the crown will end us all, I fear.”

“I want no fight, Baela. Jace and I haven’t done anything. They are feelings only, and ones I do not wish to act on.”

“Why not?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.

“What?”

“Why don’t you wish to act on them?” she asks. You scrunch your eyebrows, but shake your head.

“Because I care about you and your sister,” you say, looking to Rhaena. “And because I know that no matter what, I am not good enough for the prince, and never will be.” Baela studies you for a long moment, some of her anger washing away.

“The prince and I need to sort things out,” she says, when she does speak again. “I think it’d be better if you weren’t here when we do.”

“What?” you ask, panic shooting through your body. You look to Rhaena.

“I don’t want you in the Red Keep anymore,” Baela says, lifting her chin regally. “But seeing as Lady Jeyne Arryn is here, I will not send you home. Dragonstone should be a fine location until we can get this all settled.”