#when she was a puppy because she was so clingy

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[luv-lock]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ɴ ɢ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Robins x Fem Reader

Headcanon: How would they be as your boyfriend?

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Dick Grayson   ׅ      ♡ 𝄒!

Affection Overload: Dick is all about physical affection. Hugs, kisses, holding hands—he’s constantly touching you. If you’re in public, expect him to have an arm around your waist or your hand in his at all times.

Grand Gestures: He loves making big romantic statements. Random flowers delivered to your class? Check. Swinging into your bedroom window just to say goodnight? Double check.

Jealousy Level: Surprisingly chill, but only because he’s confident. If someone flirts with you, he’ll swoop in with a smug smile and casually remind them that you’re his.

Protective Side: He’s sweet and easygoing most of the time, but the second he thinks you’re in danger, he turns into serious protector mode. He’s not above scaring people off if necessary.

Clingy but Cute: He hates being away from you. Even if you’re just apart for a day, he’ll text or call constantly. "Miss me yet? Because I miss you."

The Cheerleader Boyfriend: Dick is your biggest fan. Whether you’re pursuing a hobby, trying something new, or just having a bad day, he’s there hyping you up like, “You’re amazing, don’t forget that.”

Drama King: If you ever fight, expect him to show up at your door with flowers, chocolates, and the saddest puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. He cannot stand the idea of you being upset with him.

:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Jason Todd   ׅ      ♡ 𝄒!

Acts Tough but Is a Softie: Jason tries to play it cool, but deep down, he’s so soft for you. You’ll catch him staring at you like you hung the moon, and he’ll deny it every time.

Overprotective: Jason is feral when it comes to your safety. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s ready to throw hands. “You okay, babe? Need me to deal with them?”

Big on Small Gestures: He’s not a grand-gesture kind of guy, but he’ll quietly leave your favorite snacks on your desk or slip a note into your bag that says, "Have a good day, idiot."

Jealousy Level: Off the charts. Jason tries to play it cool, but the second someone flirts with you, his hand is on your waist, and his glare is lethal.

Supportive but Real: Jason is your rock. He’ll always be there for you, but he’s not afraid to call you out if he thinks you’re being too hard on yourself. “Stop beating yourself up. You’re amazing. End of story.”

Loves Quiet Time Together: He’s happiest when it’s just the two of you curled up on the couch, watching movies or reading. Those moments mean the world to him.

Secretly Romantic: Jason pretends he’s not into cheesy romance, but he’ll randomly do something that makes your heart melt, like showing up with a book he thought you’d like or quoting poetry at the most unexpected times.

:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Damian Wayne   ׅ      ♡ 𝄒!

Awkwardly Affectionate: Damian isn’t great at expressing his feelings verbally, so his affection comes in the form of small, thoughtful actions. He’ll make sure your tea is brewed perfectly or bring you handmade gifts.

Possessive but Polite: Damian hates sharing your attention. If someone flirts with you, he’ll politely (but firmly) remind them who you belong to. “I believe you’re wasting your time. She’s spoken for.”

Jealousy Level: High but controlled. Instead of losing his temper, he’ll subtly outshine whoever is trying to steal your attention. “Ah, yes, you’ve met my girlfriend. Isn’t she magnificent?”

Protective in a Subtle Way: He’s not loud about it, but Damian is always watching out for you. If someone wrongs you, he’ll handle it quietly and efficiently. “You’ll find they’re no longer a problem.”

Always Wants to Impress You: Damian is constantly trying to prove himself to you, whether it’s through his art, his fighting skills, or his intellect. He’s desperate for your approval, even if he pretends he’s not.

Secretly Vulnerable: Behind his confident exterior, Damian is terrified of losing you. He doesn’t know how to handle those emotions, so he’ll sometimes withdraw until you reassure him.

Over-the-Top Romantic in Private: When it’s just the two of you, Damian lets his walls down. He’ll read you poetry, kiss your hand, and whisper how much you mean to him.

How They’re Similar:

All of them are incredibly protective of you and hate seeing you hurt or upset.

They’re obsessed with making you happy and will go out of their way to ensure you feel loved.

Whether they’re soft and sweet or intense and dramatic, they all love you with their whole heart—and they’re not afraid to show it.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[bruisedboys]

love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader

summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here

grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff

nav

implied fem!reader 1.3k words

Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.

“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”

You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.

“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”

Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.

“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.

To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.

“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”

Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”

Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”

Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.

“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”

Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”

Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.

He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”

It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”

���Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.

Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”

She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.

“What is it, cariño?” He hums.

“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”

Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.

By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.

Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”

You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.

He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.

“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.

“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”

Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.

He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.

Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”

[salvieslovenotes]

clingy Vi headcanons

never not thinking about her ahh

When out in public it's suddenly like she's a child again. Crossing the road? She's gripping onto your arm. Always tugging on your hand to point out random things (movie ads at bus stops, a cool car, a literal plane in the sky, anything).

And don't get me started on the handholding. Even when it's boiling out, you find her fingers slotting with yours anyway. When you pull away, saying it's too sweaty and hot, she full on pouts. "But I just wanna..." she'll say, those puppy eyes of hers looking at you all hurt and pleading that you always give in.

And when both your hands are full, carrying shopping or coffee, she'll take it from you, somehow always managing to hold everything in one hand so she can offer her free hand with a smile like soo... you gonna take it then? But if you're busy on your phone or something, she'll find another way to hold onto you. Often you don't even realise it until you turn and feel a tug. And oh, she's gripping onto your jacket sleeve, slipped her hand into your coat pocket.

When waiting in line, standing at the counter, pausing anywhere for a literal second, she's there. Sometimes you don't even know where she comes from, she just pops up out of nowhere the moment you pause, slipping her arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. "I thought you were out..." you say, confused, waiting for the coffee machine to heat up and the moment you're standing still she's wrapping herself around you, heat radiating off her as always. "Was..." she mumbles against your shoulder. "Back now."

When you're lying on the sofa watching TV, she's squeezing between your back and the cushions, even though there's virtually no room. "What are you doing...?" you ask, even as you adjust your position so she can slide her arms around you. "Just wanna hold you for a bit..." comes the muffled reply.

Giving your bum a cheeky slap every time you bend over while cleaning, putting on shoes, basically at every opportunity she gets. When you scowl at her, pretending to be annoyed, she raises her hands, grinning and not looking at all sorry. "Well, you were right there so... what's a girl gotta do...?"

Kisses on your cheeks and hands and fingers. When you're out it never fails to make you flustered. Holding your hand, but then she needs to reach into her back pocket for her wallet to pay for something. Rather than just dropping your hand, even for the brief moment it takes her to pay, she'll press a quick kiss to your knuckles, folding your hand over the crook of her elbow so you're still holding onto her. Then taking your hand again as soon as she's tapped her card, her other hand sliding around your waist as if to make up for the momentary loss of contact.

Her thumb rubbing small circles over your knuckles, your hipbone, waist—wherever her hand happens to be settled. Sometimes it's nice, a soft comfort. Other times it's... distracting. You're in the supermarket, reading the ingredient list on a packet, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate with the absent thumb Vi is rubbing up and down the base of your spine where she's got her hand settled in the small of your back. "Vi please, we'll be here all day if I can't focus..." and "Hmm? But I'm not doing anything..." comes the innocent reply.

It gets to the point where you literally can't go to the beach with her (there are children, for god's sake!!) because she absolutely cannot stop herself from touching you. All. the. time. If you're sunbathing, she's draped herself half atop you ("Vi! I'm trying to tan!" you protest, laughing as you try and shove her off). Her arms are always looped around you, she's always pressing kisses over your bare shoulders, fingers absently trailing your thighs so you're breathless.

It's gotten to the point where she's almost always touching you in some way, and you love it.

[januaryembrs]

ahhh can I ask for a drabble for sunshine reader x Spence when they're out with the team at a bar or something and reader is obviously a clingy and giggly drunk?

MY BABY'S SWEET AS CAN BE | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

description: Spencer's girlfriend loves karaoke when she's drunk, but she loves him even more

length: 1k

warnings: literally just fluff

He smiled at her unabashedly as she flitted through the crowd, the top of her head bobbing in between other patrons as she shoved through the sea of bodies, and he heard the odd “Excuse me, oh I’m so sorry, excuse me, Sorry-scuse me,” which let him know the mop of hair with two little bows in it was exactly who he thought it was. 

Not that he’d need to try hard to find her, his eyes hadn’t left her all evening. She had a tendency to get upset if they got parted when she’d had a couple to drink, and he hated the look she got on her face when she welled up and felt sorry for herself. 

She burst out the throng, her eyes quickly scanning across the group, and Emily barely had time to hand her a Frozen Daiquiri before she’d launched herself where Spencer leaned against the bar.

“Honey! Oh, I missed you so much,” She said, immediately homing into his waist, her ear pressing against his chest where his heart beat particularly loudly, because whatever affectionate streak she carried on a day to day basis was dialled to one million when she got like this. 

“Baby, I saw you five minutes ago,” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nevertheless and running his large, warm hand down her spine where her backless dress gave him free rein to feel everything. 

She looked up at him with an aghast stare, “You didn’t miss me, too?” 

“Oh, I never said that, now did I?” Spencer asked, his words sweetened with his smile, and adoration stained every single syllable like coffee over clean breath, “Did you have fun?” 

She giggled, leaning to steal a quick kiss, and her hand brushed over his stomach to pinch the soft pouch of fat gently, “I did! Did you see me, I totally outsang Luke,” 

“For the last time; karaoke is not a contest, we’re supposed to be singing together,” Luke said, his forehead sweaty where he’d pushed through the crowd himself trying to keep up with her as she’d bolted off the stage to get back to her spot tucked under Spencer’s arm. 

She stuck her tongue out at him, rolling her eyes when he gave her a more obscene gesture, and turned back to where Spencer had yet to rip his eyes off her, his pupils dopey and wide and full of puppy love as she looked at him. 

“He’s just mad becaus he wanted to sing Beyonce’s part, and I made him be Shakira,” She said on chuckled breath, “But I think our cover of Beautiful Liar could top charts, like, nationally,”

“Ofcourse, I reckon you could go global if we got you a good agent,” He humoured her, and her eyes lit up with glee, bouncing on the balls of her feet to the point he almost spilled his beer. But he didn’t care, he just loved seeing her so happy. 

“Really! Really, really?” She asked, quickly stealing another adoring kiss from his lips like she could only go so long before she needed another one to fuel her words, like she didn’t even realise she was doing it as there was little to no pause in her end of the conversation. 

“Well, sure,” He said, his mouth interrupted when she pecked him again, and he wondered if she genuinely understood they couldn't kiss and talk at the same time with the way she was going, “But, if my sweet girlfriend becomes a popstar sensation overnight, who’s going to be there when I want to do this?” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist, his fingertips caressing the dip of her back, already knowing which moles sat beneath his touch and where, as he gave her a real kiss, one that made her squeak a little and the sound of it forced an even bigger smile out of him. 

He parted from her reluctantly, and he didn’t even care that he usually didn’t like PDA all too much if it meant she would look so content and glowing, her eyes creasing as she sighed with a besotted expression. Spencer never thought he would get so lucky to have anyone look at him like that, never mind someone who he loved with his whole entire being, and everything else left of him. 

“You raise a good point, my genius love,” She said, pressing her burning face into his sternum, her hands still never leaving where they’d buried into his waist, “I guess I’ll put my debut album on hold and stay to kiss you some more,” 

“Will you guys stop being so disgustingly sweet, it’s making my punch taste sour,” Penelope said, even though the team didn’t seem to mind their soppy exchanges. Spencer sometimes seemed like his old self again when he was with her, something boyish and teasing and loving returning back to his rough hands and exhausted expression, and for that the two of them could rip each other's clothes off for all they cared. 

Because they were one of those couples that made everyone else feel lucky to just see that kind of love so close, not envious or repellent, like finding a fawn sleeping on your doorstep. It was rare and pure and warmed everyone right through to their marrow. 

The two of them smiled at one another, and she leaned in to steal a few more kisses from his lips that tasted faintly of beer, only for another song to start playing and she gasped, her mouth dropping in excitement. 

“I love ABBA, we have to sing this song together!” She said, lacing her fingers with his and tugging his stubborn, lithe figure over to the stage, “Please, Spencer, please, please, please,” 

And he gave her exactly what she wanted, because when could he ever say no to a face like that. 

[eomayas]

tell me a joke • hjs

pairing: husband!joshua x wife!reader, established relationship & parent au

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!!, fluff, slice of life, reader is jealous

synopsis: reader definitely isn't jealous when she sees her husband making another woman laugh, and she'd like to know what is so funny.

warnings: p in v, oral (f receiving), slight dom/sub dynamics, implied jealousy, joshua makes a bad joke (my bad).

a/n: i do think joshua is funny but for the purposes of this fic, reader doesn’t give him enough credit 😭😭 enjoy. this is sort of ass but yk.

your husband was funny, but he wasn’t that funny. your attention keeps being. pull from the group conversation you’re having, to your husband and another woman having a conversation a few feet away. you don’t have a problem with joshua talking to and with other women, you trust your husband and don’t feel threatened by other women. but, the amount of laughter you’ve heard come from her mouth in the last few minutes is enough to make your eyebrows raise and be curious as to when joshua picked up a side career as a comedian. again, he’s funny, but he is not that funny.

casting another glance in that direction, you take a notice of the hand she places on his arm and decide you’d like to hear some of the jokes he’s been telling, since he’s so funny. “hold on, i’ve got to go check on my husband,” you say to the group of women you’re currently talking to, downing the rest of the water in your cup and setting it down on the table. they all cast their eyes on joshua, a few of them snickering.

“do what you’ve got to do, girl,” you appreciate the support and start to make your way towards joshua until you are intercepted by tiny arms wrapping themselves around your legs.

“mama, we found a lizard!” your daughter shouts, bouncing on her feet. you look at her with big eyes and wide smile, bending down to pick her up and swoop her in your arms.

“really? was it a baby? or was it big?” you ask, carrying her over to joshua with you. it’s probably messed up to use your own daughter as a reason to interrupt your husband talking to another woman, but you don’t want to come off as jealous or clingy.

“mmm, in the middle. it was so cool, mommy! can i get one?” she asks, making you give her an absolutely not look. she pouts and gives you puppy eyes that always work on you, and sigh.

“let’s ask papa,” you say, sidling up next to joshua and interrupting the conversation. joshua looks over at you and your daughter and smiles a big smile, opening his arms to engulf the two of you in a hug. you feel a sense of relief wash over you, and you wish you didn’t because you really do trust joshua, you just don’t know the woman he’s talking with.

“ask me what?” he asks, a curious look on his face.

“oh, papa, can i get a lizard? please?” she begs, reaching for him. if anything, he was the one who would crack easiest out of the two of you. the moment she asks for anything, he usually says yes unless it’s extreme, but even then he’ll take it into consideration.

joshua flashes you a look of confusion and kisses your daughter on the cheek. “a lizard?”

“yes, papa, we just found one! oh, put me down please!” she struggles to get out of his grip until he sets her feet down on the ground, and she takes off running to go play with the other kids. you can help but laugh, your daughter being a ball of energy neither of you really know where to place.

“that girl, i tell you,” he chuckles, watching her run off and play with a look in his eye that breaks your heart in the best way. it’s the same look he had the first time he held her after you gave birth, one that lets you know that there’s nothing in this world that he loves more than being a father. “but hey, honey.” he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him.

neither of you are too big on PDA, but you take the opportunity to kiss him, the hand that’s not holding onto his going to rest on his abdomen. when you two pull apart, he looks at you quizzically before remembering that you’re in front of company. “oh, minhee, this is my wife, y/n,” you give her a polite smile and extend your hand.

“hi, im yeji’s mom,” she says and you nod, the polite smile on your face. but you never drop joshua’s hand and he rubs the back of it with his thumb.

you decide that you’ve really seen enough and that it’s time for you to go back to the group you just came from. “well, it was nice to meet you!” you turn to your husband and kiss him on the cheek, your hand resting on his side. he can tell there’s something up, but he’s not sure what it is and knows it’s not the time to bring it up. he squeezes your hand before you slip away and out of his grasp, and makes a mental note to bring it up later.

slipping into bed, you pull on your glasses and pick up the book on your nightstand. you’re grateful for a calm and quiet night, your daughter having a sleepover with her cousins thus allowing you and joshua to have a night of uninterrupted sleep. your daughter is prone to waking up in the middle of the night, for a bad dream or otherwise, and ends up sleeping between the two of you more than half the time.

joshua comes out of the bathroom and shuts off the big light in the room, only leaving your lamps on the nightstands to illuminate the room. you look up from your page and give him a smile before going back to your novel. he hovers above his side of the bed for a second and you notice, ready to say something until he finally slips under the covers with you.

"hmm?" you hum, not looking up from the page you are currently reading. you can tell joshua has something to say, you know him too well, and he knows that you know him too well.

"it was a nice party, yeah?" you chuckle to yourself at the small talk. its his lead in, of course, to whatever is on his mind that he feels like he can't outright say.

"mhm. it was cute; minji had a lot of fun," you say. he makes a noise of agreement and then its quiet. you stop reading but keep your eyes trained on the page. he shifts in bed, and then a heavy hand is placed on your leg above the sheets. you feel its warmth all the same, and put your bookmark back into you book before placing it on your nightstand. "yes?"

joshua gives you a bashful smile and lightly shakes his head. "what was that earlier?" he questions, cheeks lightly dusted with a cute blush. you pretend like you don't know exactly what he is referring to, and furrow your eyebrows and ask him, "what as what earlier?"

he chuckles and lets out a sigh, gently patting your thigh. "oh, you're cute," he says, lolling his head to the side and looking up at you, an amused expression on his face. he knows you too well. "were you j- don't say it!" you cut him off and gently hit him across his stomach. he knows you hate that word, hate it being used in reference to your personality or behavior especially.

joshua captures your hand and brings it up to his mouth and places a kiss on the back of it. you watch him and let out a sigh through your nose. "I wasn't jealous," you state, but even you know that isn't entirely true. "I just wanted to know when you got so funny." you state. joshua laughs in mild confusion and sits up against the headboard.

"i'm always funny."

"no, you're not. but I love you anyway," you say, gently pinching his cheek. he rolls his eyes and pushes your hand away and you laugh. "if you're so funny, tell me a joke."

"you want to hear a joke?"

"if you're as funny as you and minhee seem think, yeah."

he smiles at you and squeezes your hand. "okay, i'll tell you a joke," joshua starts. you raise your eyebrows in anticipation. joshua presses a long kiss to your cheek, clearly stalling and further proving your point. "okay, i've got one." he says against your skin, gently dragging his teeth against your jaw.

"shoot."

he rolls on top of you and tugs you down flat onto your pillow. he kisses your neck, right under your jaw and then moves to the column of your throat. "what do you call a wet plain?" he mutters, mouth moving down to your collarbones as one of his hands skates up the side of your thigh and underneath your short, silk nightdress.

"a wet plain?" you question as his mouth skates across the tops of your breasts. he hums and hooks his fingers in the band of your underwear and pulls them down to your knees. "what?" you gasp when joshua drags two fingers up your folds, collecting your wetness and spreading it around your clit, making you twitch and knees press together.

joshua flicks his eyes up to meet your own and gives you a knowing look. flushing, you tell him the joke sucks, and let out a loud gasp when he disappears underneath the covers and attaches his lips to your clit. he suckles on your nub and yanks your underwear down the rest of your legs. "j-josh! fuck!" you cry ripping off your reading glasses and pushing the blanket down to rest on the back of his neck. your husband licks up between your folds before pushing his tongue into you hole, making you gasp and arch your back off the bed. sheets get crumpled beneath your hands and your thighs try to lock around his head, but joshua forces your legs open and uses his shoulders to keep you spread out for him.

your hips buck up into his face as he laps at you, sucking and licking at every inch of you. with each whimper and moan from you, joshua grows painfully more hard. his dick aches in his pants, desperately wanting to be free and buried inside of you. "o-oh, f-fuck! joshua, fuck!" you shriek. he knows your body like the back of his hand, understands what every whimper, gasp, and moan means. it all encourages him to keep going, but he knows that you are close.

joshua inserts two fingers inside of you and curls them upwards and attaches his mouth around your clit again. he fucks his fingers into you and you cry out his name, thrashing on the bed above him. your entire body feels hot and sweat coats you face, neck, and chest with a light sheen.

"im g-gonna cum!" you yelp, hips bucking up into his face. joshua continues to suckle on you clit and move his fingers in and out of you, pushing into that spongy spot inside. your vision goes spotty as the coil in the pit of your stomach snaps and brings you to your release. joshua slurps up your juices in an attempt to get every drop. you lie above him with your eyes closed as you try to regain your breath, your chest rising and falling like you've just ran a marathon. "shit." you breathe out, followed by a small whimper when he pulls his fingers out of you.

you crack an eye open when you feel joshua move from between you legs and sit on his knees above you. he places his fingers in his mouth and sucks your arousal off and shoves his other hand down his pants to stroke his aching cock. "fuck," he hisses, eyebrows furrowing as he shamelessly pumps his own cock in front of you. "baby, i need to fuck you." he says, his voice full of lust and desire.

"then fuck me," you say, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth. you fully open your eyes to watch him pull off his pants and boxers to let his dick spring free. the tip is red and swollen, and pre-cum leaks out of it.

"i love, you know," he rasps, grabbing your left leg. he kisses the inside of your ankle before draping it over his shoulder and doing the same to your right. "does this feel alright?" he asks, fingertips mindlessly stroking you skin softly.

you nod and reply, "i know." to his previous statement. he kisses your knee and lets go of one of your thighs to grab onto his cock to line it up with your entrance. "i love you, too."

he smiles at you and leans down to kiss you on the lips, and to test if folding you in half is uncomfortable. when you don't make a sound of discomfort, he pulls back and starts to push his cock forward into you. when he presses the tip in, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. he presses in a few more inches then stops to let you adjust to the stretch, but he doesn't give you long before he starts moving in and out. "fuck, you're tight," he grunts. you involuntarily clench around him and he lets out a harsh breath. "shit."

"more, joshie," you whine, grabbing a fistful of the sheets. joshua drops his head and speeds up his thrusts, groaning every time he pushes into you. you pant out his name and squeeze your eyes shut.

with every thrust into you, it feels like he’s knocking the air from your lungs. he’s reaching deep inside of you, hitting spots that have you seeing stars. “fuck, baby, i-i love you,” he grunts, pushing your legs closer to your chest. “and i love this perfect pussy.” you sob out his name, legs shaking on his shoulders.

“shua, i-i cant t-take it!” you cry out, clenching around him each time he pushes into you. that familiar knot forms in your stomach and grows tighter and tighter each second.

“i’m close too, baby,” his hips lose rhythm as he slams into you harder than he previously was, each thrust punctuated by a swear. “fuck, i’m close. fuck!”

moments later, you’re coming for the second time and he follows seconds behind you, filling you up and stuffing you full of his seed. he stays still inside of you, keeping his cum from spilling out of you. “i love you,” you pant, legs feeling like jelly when you try to move them off of his shoulders. joshua kisses you calf and gently takes your legs down onto the bed but keeps himself stuffed inside of you. “so much.” you add, reaching out to him. joshua leans down and captures you lips in a kiss. the movement makes his hips rock into you and you gasp against his mouth, hands splaying across his broad back. you can feel his love with the way he holds you, with the desire he kisses you with.

pulling back from your lips, you whimper when he moves inside of you again and he only winks at you before pulling his cock out of you. melting against the mattress is practically what happens, and he falls into place next to you. he grabs your hand and strokes the back of it with his thumb. “you don’t have to worry, y/n,” his voice is soft and makes you feel warm all over.

“i know. it was stupid,” you say, turning your head to look at him. he leans towards you and kisses your forehead. “i just wanted to laugh too.” you add pettily. joshua chuckles and sighs, rolling you onto your side and tugging your backside into his front.

“wanna hear another joke?” he mumbles into your ear, the arm that he’s laying on coming up to cup your breast in his hand while the other skates up your nightdress. soft sighs leave your mouth when he squeezes your boob and tweaks your nipple through the thin fabric.

“s-sure,” you breathe when his hand slips between your thighs. the setup and pun is lost on you, and you’re not sure if it’s better than the first because he buries two fingers inside of you and yanks the top of your dress down to let your breasts spill free. bad jokes be damned, he makes you cum two more times—once on his fingers and the second on his cock, your throat scratchy from crying out his name.

joshua may not make you laugh with his jokes, but he knows how to fuck you just right.

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Showering with Sunghoon;

Pairing; fem!reader and boyfriend!Park Sunghoon Synopsis; You love showering with Sunghoon. He is the best boyfriend, takes care of you even in the shower, not letting you lift a finger. Not even to wash yourself ;) Genre; Fluff (a bit suggestive) Warning; None (?) Sunghoon is a true GENTLEMAN!! Kinda horny!Sunghoon because you are just too hot (?) My Masterlist;

A/N: This is the Sunghoon version of the, 'Bathing with Ni-ki' scenario. When i was writing the Ni-ki one, i already had the idea for this one heheheheh. I can't tell each one of them is my favourite, but... a man like Sunghoon (at least the one in this story) is my dream!!! I hope you guys enjoy it, likes and reblogs are always welcome, thank you so much <3

Also, happy Christmas eve, my loves ♡♡

If there was one thing you loved doing with Sunghoon, it was showering together. Everyone knew he was a gentleman—always opening doors for you, making sure you weren’t cold when you went out, and keeping his eyes on you to ensure you were safe and comfortable. And when you shower together, nothing changes.

Sunghoon knew you better than anyone else. He understood how you always put others before yourself (blame it on being the older sister). So, whenever he could, he took it upon himself to care for you. When you showered together, he refused to let you lift a finger—washing your hair, using all your scalp products, and gently cleaning your skin for you.

So, when he got a text from you saying you’d be taking a quick shower, he rushed home. Stepping into the foggy bathroom, he heard soft music playing—Cigarettes After Sex, as usual. Sunghoon quickly discarded his clothes and approached the shower. Before stepping inside, he paused to admire you.

Your sweet voice carried softly with the music, your head tilted back under the hot water, the droplets cascading down your body like a sculpture brought to life. To him, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and he couldn’t be more grateful to have you.

When your back was turned to the door, he finally stepped in. His tall frame came up behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. You jumped slightly in surprise but quickly giggled. You loved it when Sunghoon was clingy.

“You should’ve waited for me…” he murmured into your ear, resting his face on your shoulder as the hot water poured over both of you.

Turning your head slightly, you pecked his cheek. “We have to be quick, baby. I promised your mom I’d meet her at the mall by 3 p.m. We’re picking out new things for her kitchen,” you explained to your handsome boyfriend. Then, you turned around fully to face him.

The water had completely soaked his hair, and he ran a hand through it, pushing it back. You gazed into his eyes, captivated by the view in front of you. His pale skin was drenched and shining before your curious eyes.

“Why didn’t she call me?” he whined, wrapping his arms around you again, as though he wished he could be under your skin, just to be closer to you.

“I’m the one with the interior design degree…” you joke, resting your head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin against yours and the hot water cascading over both of you.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond; he simply kisses your hair and holds you close for a few minutes. The bathroom grows even steamier, the air heavy with humidity. You look up at him, captivated by his handsome features— his big nose, juicy red lips, adorable moles, and the depth of his brown eyes, completely drunk on love.

He gazes back at you with equal intensity, his mischievous fingers trailing along your side, sending goosebumps across your skin. The way you look at him—those beautiful, pleading puppy eyes—are enough to drive him crazy. Slowly, Sunghoon leans in and captures your lips in a slow, loving kiss, his soft lips molding perfectly with yours.

Your arms wrap around his neck as your fingers weave through his black hair, gently pulling. His tongue teases its way into your mouth, and the kiss quickly deepens, turning hungry. The sensation of your wet, nude body pressing against his is intoxicating. You finally pull away for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you both catch your breath.

“Turn around so I can wash your hair,” Sunghoon says in a breathy voice, regaining his composure and focusing on taking care of you. His hands remain firmly on your hips as you turn, your back facing him—a sight that makes him momentarily wish his mom would forget about your plans so he could have more time with you.

Noticing he hasn’t moved, you glance back over your shoulder, only to catch him staring at your body with a sly grin, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter making your skin turn white.

“Hoonie…” you call, snapping him out of his trance. A soft blush spreads across his face as he realizes he’s been caught.

“Sorry, princess, I got distracted,” he mutters in a low voice, quickly reaching for your favorite shampoo to get started.

You turn your head forward, giving him better access to your scalp. When his skilled fingers begin massaging your hair, it feels heavenly. He always has a way of being so gentle yet confident, and it makes your knees weak every time.

Sunghoon has a habit of massaging your neck while washing your hair—one hand steadying your head while the other works on your tired neck muscles. You gulp and bite your bottom lip. Today, for some reason, his touch feels even better than usual, making you momentarily regret agreeing to plans with his mom.

“All done. Let’s rinse you off,” Sunghoon says softly, holding your hand as you turn to let the water rinse your hair. As the warm stream flows over you, Sunghoon notices your quickened breaths.

“You okay there, princess?” he asks with a knowing smirk, fully aware of the effect he has on you.

You don’t answer, just nod, your eyes still closed. After rinsing your hair, he applies a bit of conditioner to your ends, gently scrunching them to enhance your waves. While the conditioner sets, he grabs your loofah, squeezing out some of your body wash before carefully lathering it.

You let him take over completely, utterly under his spell. His hands move with precision and tenderness, washing every inch of you—from your neck and arms to your chest and belly. He even kneels to wash your legs and feet with the same care. You watch him with hearts in your eyes, completely smitten by his loving attention.

When he stands again, you turn around, brushing your hair to one side to expose your back. He resumes his task, one hand holding your waist affectionately while the other traces gentle circles over your skin as he cleans you.

Sunghoon smiles when he’s finished, admiring the way your skin glistens, still covered in bubbles. He leans in to press a quick peck on your lips before turning the water back on to rinse you off. Stepping back, he leans against the cold tiled shower wall, his mischievous eyes tracing the path of the drops as they slide down your body.

Noticing his gaze, you smile and gently take his hand, pulling him under the warm stream. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you rest your head against his chest, craving the comforting sensation of his skin against yours. The two of you stay like this for a while, soaking in the moment, until your hair and body are completely rinsed clean.

“Do you want me to wash your hair too?” you ask, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. He returns your gaze with a soft smile.

“No, princess. You can go see my mom. I’ll finish faster if I do it myself,” he says, his thumb caressing your cheek affectionately. You laugh, knowing he’s right. If you stayed, things would likely go far beyond just washing his hair.

“I love you,” you confess shyly, placing a lingering kiss on his perfect lips before stepping out of the shower.

“I love you more,” Sunghoon replies sweetly, his heart swelling at the sight of your radiant smile. “I’ll be waiting for you…” he adds with a playful wink as you close the door, your laugh echoing softly in the steamy bathroom.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetiedarling @mintchocos-things @reikaxslvr If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[ Check out my MASTERLIST; ]

[reignpage]

Hi!! If you have the time- how would the jjk guys react to the reader giving them the silent treatment?

I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Gojo:

Would try to make you laugh at first When that doesn't work and he notices you're just getting more irritated, he'd start bribing you Buys you flowers, handbags, dresses, jewellery you name it If you're still silent, then he'll go deadly serious Would confront you in the dark, sitting on the sofa like he's been waiting for hours 'Is there nothing I can do? Are we done for good? Are you leaving me too?'

Geto:

Gets snarky Two can play that game He's not the calm and patient guy everyone thinks he is He just reacts in subtle ways Makes passive-aggressive comments But eventually will get tired, sighs and just asks you straight up what he did wrong 'Alright, what happened? Let me inside that head of yours.'

Choso:

Keeps asking you what's wrong Gets really sad and depressed Very much kicked puppy vibes Just follows you around everywhere Until you crack 'I didn't know what I did but I'm sorry. Please talk to me? I'm scared'

Toji:

LOL LMFAO ROFL This man would be soooo annoying He'd be smug as hell at first Says shit like 'It's nice to have peace and quiet here' 'You should get mad at me more often ma' BUT eventually realising you're not gonna crack He'll start to get nervous Starts cleaning up after himself Double checks to make sure the trash is out, he hasn't left any dishes in the sink, didn't miss any appointments or anniversaries etc etc Would send Megumi in to get a feel for your mood 'make yourself extra cute kid' 'ask her why she isn't speaking to me. no don't tell her I told you to. whose side are you on?'

Nanami:

Would ask you immediately if there's something wrong Is so mature and healthy it's irritating 'please communicate with me, darling. I can't apologise and fix whatever I ruined if you don't talk to me.' Eventually, he'll give you space But then you'll start feeling really bad because he'll assume that you hate him or something Like, he'll start buying sandwiches to take to work cause he thinks you won't make lunch for him like normal or sleeps on the couch eats dinner and watches shows by himself so you cave first and the smile he gives you is so worth it

Sukuna:

Doesn't notice a thing at first He isn't the type to be clingy, he's not the affectionate one, he mostly returns it So there'll just be a period of silence Until he begins to feel your absence in which case he'll seek you out and then becomes the clingy one 'it is a pleasant day out, would you care to join me for a stroll? gets sooo offended if you don't say anything 'no? would you prefer to stroll with someone else? tell me who and they will be killed. in fact, continue to remain in silence and everyone will be killed.'

Yuji:

Confused :0 asks Nobara for advice 'you're a girl, she's a girl. so tell me what's going on' 'is it the time of the month?' uses loads of different tricks to make you break performs dances and skits gets Gojo involved tries to get Megumi involved (no chance) he's so stupid you just have to cave and explain he's an idiot and he'll nod happily

Megumi:

yeahhhhhh you'll be having a silent off for days and weeks you'll both continue to co-exist in silence it's just not smart

Inumaki:

annoying as hell texts you shit like: 'when she copies you' 'ho is u good?' 'can you be original at least?' when that doesn't work he'll break into your social media or gaming accounts right in front of you and threatens to release a post pretending to be you like 'you know, hitler wasn't that bad' or an ugly picture of you then you'll have to cave and he gets so caught up in the victory, he'll accidentally post it yep, he's a dead man walking

[soulwrencher]

i'm feeling dizzy and sick so domestic!vi anyone?

i just think vi would look really good in an apron. way too good. and she knows how to cook, she'd never let you touch the stove, she tries at least not to... and then one day, when you come home and she notices you're sick, vi is a hot mess. her baby is sick, this can't be! where does she even start? running you a hot bath, making you your favorite hot beverage, cooking you porridge even though you hate it? too. much. to. stress. about. so you watch her walk up and down the kitchen while you almost pass out on the couch from the headaches you're having, "i'm not dying, vi," you murmur, "just hand me my meds please?"

and suddenly vi has her act all together. did it take a hit to her ego? maybe. but were you escorted into a hot tub with just the right amount of foam? hell yeah. "just scream if you're done or dying," she yells from the kitchen. it felt nice, she poured eucalyptus oil into the bathtub, since when did you have this? about to nod off in the bathtub you hear a soft voice calling for your name.

"come on, doll. hold on tight, okay?" she whispers as she wraps your arms around her neck to pull you out of the tub. careful this, watch out that, you were barely listening as you use the last bit of strength in your body to get out of the tub. and then she dries you off, you felt like a lost, wet puppy. her eyes were on you though, the whole time, making sure you're not actually dying, because that's what her eyes were giving away. you have her undivided attention, you really do, because she almost burns the chicken for the soup she is going to make for you, which frankly, never happens. so 7:1 for you! well, for her. (the score in your head to keep track of all the times you burnt food, in hopes to beat her one day. maybe you should get sick more often?)

and then you're in bed, you barely remember her dressing you but you do remember vi tucking you in bed, placing a soft kiss onto your forehead. "just stay with me a little more," she whispers. she's hovering over your shuddering body, her eyes searching for yours. you can feel the worry seep off her face, so you nod before she rushes off into the kitchen once again.

"careful, hold it, wait—" vi props you up so you can eat the chicken soup she made for you. "you have to eat before you sleep, doll." you tried your best to eat some of it and vi was impressed by how much you actually got down before you handed the bowl back to her. you whisper a small 'thank you' after vi who left for the kitchen with the bowl in her hand. but she comes back, of course she does and lays down next to you. suddenly you feel much warmer, blankets don't compare to vi's warmth.

"can i?" she asks, and you nod, there's nothing you want more than vi cuddling you into sleep right now. so she does, strong arms around your body, her chest against your back, you feel her breath on your shoulder.

"i won't ever leave your side," vi whispers into your neck as she wraps her arms a little tighter around your body, she thinks you're asleep by now. you forgot how clingy she can get, but you loved it more than anything. so you smile to yourself before you doze off to the sound of vi's steady breath and to the warmth of her palms on your hips.

[trexiejan]

Friendly reminder that DC and Dickbabs writers are gaslighting you into thinking Dickbabs are childhood sweethearts that are always in love with each other since day 1.

Dickbabs is the most superficial manufactured by retcons ship.

Babs was deaged for this crap to work.

Here is Original Barbara Gordon working as a congresswoman in the Senate when Dick was just the little kid Robin.

She was much closer to Bruce and Clark's age than Dick's.

Barbara refers to Dick as a "kid" and "little brother.

Dick had a small puppy crush on her but it was seen as a precocious crush. It was controversial when they first kiss (to make Dick shut up) because it involved a grown ass woman kissing a teenager.

Dickbabs was hated the same way modern Brucebabs is hated today.

Even the writer of that book admitted he never intended for them to become a couple.

Babs was more into older guys.

- she was viewed as an equal love interest to Batman

- she went out on a date with Superman

- then got engaged to her coworker Jason Bard.

Dickbabs shippers always try to deny that Babs was deaged and her history was altered for dickbabs in an effort to defend their ship.

They say it's not true because according to them Babs has been deaged long before dickbabs became a couple.

Here's the thing though:

Babs has been deaged twice.

Just because she wasn't deaged to be with Dick in her 1st deaging doesn't change the fact that she was deaged to be the same age as him in her 2nd deaging which happened in dickbabs content.

The 1st time she was deaged was in Crisis on Infinite Earths, it was so Jim could be younger but they only decreased her age slightly because she's still written as older than Dick, here is a panel from Secret Origins #20 that was published in 1986 exactly 1 year after she was first deaged in Crisis on infinite earths (1985) she said Dick is too young for her and that batman is always the one on her mind. So Dickbabs during this time still couldn't work because they still have that age gap and Babs was still into Bruce.

The 2nd time she was deaged is in dickbabs comics and tv shows where she was finally made the same age as Dick so dickbabs can finally work as a romantic pairing.

Instead of being older, she's now written as a part of Dick's generation.

From a congresswoman to a young girl who went to highschool prom with Dick.

Even Tom Taylor had the two first meet when they were young little kids so he can also portray them as childhood sweethearts in his run.

Tom Taylor claims Barbara still has a law degree but isn't it sad how instead of using that degree to find an actual job, she wasted her time following Dick around like a dog in Bludhaven ?

She has no job of her own, no friends of her own, no hobbies of her own outside of Dick.

She's just Dick's clingy lovesick girlfriend who is a total standby for him in his solo books.

Dickbabs shippers who deny this and get mad at people who point this out are the people who don't care about Barbara Gordon as an individual.

They don't care that Barbara lost her PHD degree, lost her own career, lost her own agency, lost her history, lost her self identity for the sake of shipping.

Their only concern is defending dickbabs and making it look better.

Because if they truly like Barbara separately from Dick, all these valid anti-dickbabs criticisms wouldn't bother them.

What's even funnier is that they are the very same people who accuse Starfire of being reduced into Dick's love interest despite the fact that Starfire hasn't been in a relationship with Dick in the comics for 20+ years due to the fact that dickkory's history was ignored and erased in favor of dickbabs. NASTY HYPOCRITES.

At least Starfire wasn't deaged to fit Dick and you can never see Starfire following Dick around like a dog in his solo books 💀

[youaresimplylovely]

can we get max being clingy even in the paddock pls 🙏

Big Baby

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖢𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒!𝖬𝖺𝗑 𝖵𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖦𝖿!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖭𝗈𝗇𝖾! 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗑 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖾𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽! 𝖠/𝖭: 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌!! 𝖨'𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗀𝗀𝗀

To say that "The Max Verstappen" was a tough guy was wrong. People always say he's not soft-hearted and he's just tough as a rock. Boy were they all wrong, yes he is you man well rephrase that a bit. He's your big baby. Who knew that Max would be such a soft big baby on his girlfriend.

It was Sunday, the race day. Your most favorite day of the weekend race but something was different. This Sunday you and Max didn't drive to the paddock together which was odd because Max always wants to be next to you all the time. Although he did say he had to attend a meeting that's why he can't go with you.

You arrived in the paddock bright and early, you smiled greeting the other drivers who arrived early too. You take the paddock pass that was in your pocket, giving the lady who was the one monitoring the gate with a nod. Beep! The paddock pass scanned as you entered the paddock.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice calling your name out. "Baby! Baby! Wait for me! Schatje!" The voice called out for you, turning your head around with a smile on your face to see Max but something was wrong. He didn't have his pass. Your eyes widened seeing him climb over the turnstile gate.

"Wait Maxie" You exclaim, hurriedly finding his pass that was well with you and it was placed on the very bottom of your purse.

"Sir-" The lady uttered, reaching her hand out to try and pull Max out but she was too late.

A loud laugh erupted from you, seeing your boyfriend run to you and pull you in his arms. "God i missed you so much." He mumbles, his hands grazing all over you body.

"It was only 30 minutes baby." You mumble, giving him a peck on his cheek.

"Let's go get breakfast hmm?" You hum, letting go of his hand that was holding yours. God, you shouldn't have done that.

Max stared at you and at your hand that you let go of. His eyes blinking profusely, he was speechless. He stood there, frozen at what just happened. "You're breaking up with me!?" He utters dramatically, his mouth wide open and hands pointing at yours with a gasp erupting his mouth.

Your eyes widened, turning your head around to look at Max. You couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Baby!" You giggle, gently grabbing his hands to hold them back. "i let go for a second." You smile softly.

"Exactly! So you want to break up with me??" His eyebrows furrow as he looks at you with a cute but questioning face.

"What? Baby! No! I only let go cause I was gonna grab my phone." You assure him.

"oh okay." He smiles happily again. Suddenly, he carried you in his arms bridal style while giving you kisses on your neck.

"Max! We're in public." You mutter, chuckling nervously at the people who were staring at you two. "This is gonna be a long day." You mumble.

Few minutes later, you and Max finally arrived at the eating area. Thankfully, he finally put you down which he was not happy about. Max was clinging onto your back wrapping his arms around you while he kisses you from behind.

You reach out to grab a plate and tongs to get food for you and Max but you couldn't. Because of Max's tight grip on you, you could barely do anything.

"Maxie baby, I need to get food for us." You put the plates and tongs down as you turn around to face him with a serious face.

"But-" He finally realized you were serious, he gave you a pout and puppy eyes. He mumbles groans, he wasn't mad at you, he was mad at the food for taking the time of his girl when she's supposed to spend time with him!?! He sat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you as he stared at you.

After you finally finished grabbing food for you and Max. You set the food down on the table as you were about to sit, Max immediately grabbed your waist and pulled you into his lap. He smiled at you cutely, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You chuckle at his cute behaviour, you grab a piece of bread and feed it to him. He opens his mouth as he ate it, his hands caressing your back while he stares at you. "I love it when you feed me." He smiles, giggling.

You smile, giving him a kiss on the lips as you two enjoyed your time in the paddock.

Lando, who was jaw dropped and eyes opened seeing you two. "I literally tried to give him a french fry the other day and he said 'no'." He says in his sarcastic and disgusted voice. "While this woman feeds him a piece of bread and he's like a big baby." Lando rolls his eyes.

"For the last time, you're not the girlfriend." Charles mutters at Lando as he looks at him with a glare on his face eventually smiling at you and Max.

TAGLIST

and if u want to be added on my taglist u can reply hereee <3

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[mwahsol]

Jewelry with initials

Description: You and Paige are in a semi-private relationship, as she's doing an interview the interviewer notices a certain ring on Paige's hand. The ring on Paige's hand is the one you usually wear with your initials on it. When the interviewer asks Paige about the ring, she hints about your relationship.

“So Paige I couldn't help but notice that there's a certain ring on your hand that has an initial of someone very familiar.”

“I mean what can I say it's a nice ring.”

‘Does the ring belong to a specific teammate that may or may not wear the number 12?’

‘Yo not too much, but yeah it's her ring. I wanted to bring a little something of hers with me because she couldn't come with me so it'll do for now.”

“Aww that's so cute seeing your close bond.”

After hearing that Paige can feel her face heating up and the smirk she's been trying to hide is slipping through as she answers, “Yeah for sure, but imma see her in a week so when she gets here she can give me my chain back.”

As soon as those words slipped out of her mouth the interviewer had to get all the information she could, “Oh she has something of yours too? Who's idea was it to swap items so you both could have something?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle remembering how she was almost ready to beg you to just come to Seattle with her, being too impatient to wait a bit to hold you again.

“Baby I’m going to see you in probably less than a week. I just need to visit my mom for a bit.” Even though she understands she can't help but be clingy towards you, I mean how could she not she follows you around like a puppy most of the time not ever wanting to be too far from you. “I know mama I’m just gonna miss you.” As you see Paige pouting on your bed you can't help but walk up to her, you settle in between her thighs and hug her around her shoulders while she wraps her arms around your waist and buries her head in your chest. To make her feel a little better you come up with a cute small idea, “How about I give you something of mine that you can wear so in a way I’ll be there hm? How does that sound love?’ Her head instantly shoots up so you can see the excitement in her eyes making you giggle a little. “Really? Can I pick it out?” She's too cute, “Of course you can.”

“Ok but if I get something of yours then you have to wear something of mine.’ Even though that wasn't part of your original plan you couldn't help but blush at the fact that she wants you to have something so you won't miss her too much. “I wouldn't be opposed to that”

As she gets up and looks through your jewelry box she sees the ring you wear almost all the time, except when you're playing or at practice, “Can I get this one babe?’ You knew how the public knew that ring was specifically yours. It had your initials on it and you know how much the public loves Paige, you know they're more than likely to ask her about it if they notice, and if they don't then all of the fans will. “Are you sure P? I don't want to make you comfortable if they start asking questions about it,” her heart swells up with adoration seeing how much you care and think about her first. “I’m sure, private not secret remember. I’d be happy if they asked me about you. I won't get into too much detail obviously but I can drop a few hints here and there but only if you're comfortable with it mama.” God, she knows how to make you blush, as you look down a giggle a little getting a bit shy you say, “Of course, I am, just wanted to make sure with you first.”

Paige can't help but admire how even after almost two years she still has this effect on you. “Ok, since I got your ring, how do you feel about wearing my gold chain with my initial on it so we kinda match.” You can see her little smirk knowing how much you love that necklace and can't help but say yes to getting the opportunity to wear it again. “Sounds perfect.”

“Nah it was hers but I added a little but that's it,” the interviewer and soon the audience will be able to see how giddy she was just to talk about you.

“Alright Paige, thank you for talking with us. Good luck and hopefully you see y/n soon,” she couldn't help but laugh towards the ending seeing how Paige was so happy just to hear your name.

“Ay thank you, have a good rest of your day.”

What Paige didn't notice is that while she was being asked about you and remembering the day you traded pieces, she was playing with your ring and smiling so hard that people would rewatch the interview and repost it everywhere talking about how your guy's relationship was definitely more than platonic.

I'm slowly releasing things please bare with me y'all, law is kicking my ass and my job is NOT helping. I promise I'm trying to rerelease my old work and somewhat write new ones. LOVE YALL THO <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[2knightt]

HII!! could you write the gang with a reader that has an rbf and seems really intimidating/unapproachable but is a sweetheart? they arent very talkative and seem very cold but their love language is acts of service/gift giving & sorta quality time?? <33

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape. ⋄ 𓍯

…REQUESTED: you never judge a book by it’s cover. especially when it comes to y/n!

tags/warnings: people being judgy asf/spreading rumours, gang defending reader with their soul, reader is a softie i fear, reader is kinda shy, probably stupid:3c, steve threatening a manLMFAO

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ READER IS SO ME CODED HELLO also if two-bits part sounds stupid it ‘s because i’m high rn and even if can admit it’s a little iffy

—

dallas winston

thought of you as someone to be threatened by at first ngl

he heard of this scary, mean mugged, tuff looking girl and went ‘mh. an enemy🐺😒’

he went up to you one day, acting all tuff and shit just for you to look him up and down and nervously wave

look, he may not be the smartest cookie but he can see someone shy a mile away. and when he seen you wave, he felt like such an ass LMFAO

did he show it? no. obviously.

this is dallas. he’s an asshole.

“little miss tough girl, huh?”

“…pardon?”

that teasing from him DID continue until you walked away because dallas is the type to never back down, even when he’s wrong

expect for the next time you met him!!!!

he was actually asking you your name, where you’re from, etc, etc!!!

turning a new leaf dare i say…

and everything after that was history! cutest scary looking couple ever!

HE THINKS IT’S SOOO FUNNY THAT PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF YOU LMFAOOO

he plays into it sm if someone brings it up bro

“y/n? like..scary y/n?”

“yeah, like scary y/n. and i’ll get ‘er on ya if you keep talkin’ ‘bout her.”

“oh!😰”

he thinks it’s so silly to see you look really pissed off when he isn’t around just to greet you and see your whole demeanour change!!

dallas thinks it’s so cute😭 it’s like one of his favourite things about you!

“😠😒”

“hey, baby.”

“oh! hi, dal!<3”

LMFAO IMAGINE SOMEONE SEEING YOU, A MEAN LOOKING GIRL, SHOPPING FOR MENS LEATHER JACKETS

yuppp spoil that dickhead!😫 he lovelovelovesss getting gifts, ESPECIALLY from u!!!

if you’re clingy, i feel like he wouldn’t mind it. he teases THE FUCK out of u tho!😊

“big tough girl wants to hold hands, eh?”

“…yea😞.”

“awh, look at ya. come ‘ere.”

johnny cade

you might think he’d be scared and intimidated, right? but NO! he’s literally bff’s with ponyboy, he knows damn well what rbf is!

you two are sooo cute together

little kicked, scared puppy with his feral doberman!!!

tells people to stfu whenever they try and spread rumours that you’re scary, mean, and rude.

“you’re dating y/n? don’t you know she-“

“i don’t care, shut up. ‘s not like you know her😒.”

sometimes refuses your gifts.

johnny’s not used to them :( but all u gotta do is say please and flutter your lashes and u got em!!!!

“i can’t take it.”

“please?😞”

“…okay😣.”

and he DOES NOT regret it! he might fight you at first, but he cherishes those gifts with his life<3!

loveloveloveLOVESSS having u around constantly!! since your love language is quality time, you two are always hanging out together.

and, with your scary looks, you often keep the socs away from him!

hip-hip, hooray‼️‼️

the gang was like…worried for johnny at first.

THEY DIDN’T KNOW U WERE COOL THO😭😭💔💔💔

they were all like, “??seriously, johnny?? you pick the meanest girl?? ever???” and johnny was QUICK to defend. “y’all ain’t even meet her, and you’re already sayin’ she’s bad for me?”

when they did though, they were like ‘ohhhh….she really isn’t rude…..oh….’

HE’S SO PROUD TO DATE U THO LMFAOOO

and to know the real you?? treats it like an HONOUR

ponyboy curtis

was intimidated by you.

forgot he was also like you and accidentally glares at people who walk past him LMFAOOOO

You two are like two peas in a pod istg!!

“you look mean from far away,”

“???so do you, pony??”

“…no??”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?”

mean looking couple who are truly just a bunch of nerds deep down to their soul<3

the gang was a little protective of ponyboy until they realized ur just like him LMFAO

They get having an rbf<3

pony loves spending time with you!

gift him a book and he’ll love you forever!!! (maybe even read it to you when you two are finally alone to help you fall asleep🤍)

he’s such a cutie…..

stays close to you in public because he thinks you’re scarier looking than anyone he’s ever met😊😊.

“cm’ere,”

“why?🤨”

“BECAUSE🙄!”

SCARY DOG Y/N IS REAL.

glares at anyone who goes around telling people that you’re mean and rude.

if looks could kill, they’d be dead already!!!

ponyboy does not fuck around with u i fear.

Sodapop Curtis

LMFAOOO GREEK GOD OF A MAN WITH HIS PISSED OFF GF WHO IS NERVOUSLY HOLDING HIS HAND !!!

he was NOT afraid of you!! in fact, he thought the rumours of you being an asshole were all fake

“you talkin’ about y/n?”

“yes, bro! they’re so rude-“

“how do you know?”

“well, i don’t-“

“so, shut up?😒”

cuz like??? did they not bother to understand you???

soda literally made it his mission to prove that you weren’t a dick!!😭😭

and GODDAMN HE WAS SO RIGHT

you’re such a sweetheart to soda! he lovesss telling people about how cute you are around him since it’s his own way to squash the rumours.

“my y/n is so sweet, you wouldn’t get it.”

“isn’t she the same girl who beat the soc to a pulp?”

“she can barely kill a fly.”

you don’t need to do much to scare off the girls that flirt with him at the DX, just a nice little glare every now and then and they’re already gone!

(soda doesn’t have to know that you play into the rumours sometimes. it’s our little secret.)

steve randle

HATES EVERYONE WHO TALKS ABOUT YOU

he’s petty AS FUCK LMFAOOO

they can’t handle the randle😜💯

“ew, y/n-“

“MAN, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT WHAT DO YOUUU KNOW ABOUT Y/N🗣️‼️”

that was an over exaggeration but you get the point.

gets very defensive when people try and ‘warn’ him about you lmfao

gift him a tool box and he’ll use it until it’s literally falling apart at the bolts<3

no seriously. it could be holding on by one screw and he’ll still use it. he doesn’t gaf. steve will use anything u give him.

he accepts ur rbf cause he thinks it’s SO FUNNY?? like he’ll see you far away with your friends looking all angry before one of them says a really funny joke and just watches your expression change so quickly

one of his fav things ever<3!

two-bit mathews

he makes so much jokes about it LMFAOOO

“jesus, y/n! you sure yer glare ain’t the thing that killed the dinosaurs?”

—

“swear i see the devil in yours eyes sometimes. it looks soooo good on you, though🤭🤭”

HE THINKS ITS SO ATTRACTIVE

and he lovesss your sweetheart side sm it’s like he gets best of both worlds

RAHH GIFT TWO-BIT MICKEY PLUSHIE OR ELSE

He’d totally have it on his bed 24/7. his sister has tried to steal it before to scare him btw.

skmetimes just to spend time together with him—you just go walking around town with him while he has an arm around your shoulder the whole time<3

[earth4angels]

WINTER LETTERS

 SUMMARY: you will only find true love once in a lifetime. you claim to have seen it through the craft of art, but when you met the boy who laughed at your dad's jokes and waited for you in front of history class with a bag of cherries, love was marked differently for you.    TAGS: friends to lovers, fluff, modern setting, slightly aged up characters, nerdy/popular history major jacaerys. corny, slight cliches. golden retriever boyfriend.               based on this idea  WORD COUNT: 3k

The music was loud to the point it vibrated against the wall in small rhythms, matching every beat of the sounds blasting through your record player. You hummed to the song playing, your right hand moving more delicately and intricately. A soft whine awoke you from the bubble you always created whenever you worked. In the figure of a small, one-year-old puppy sat Vermax who opened his mouth as he yawned, his nose twitching as a cute sneeze came upon him. You laughed softly, reaching down to cuddle the poor thing into your arms.

“I’m sorry buddy, mama has been mean to you huh?” you said as Vermax attempted to bite your fingers that now reached to ruffle the small ears of the golden retriever pup - his tailed waggled in annoyance. You swore you saw him frown. You feigned an offended gasp, “Oh my bad, I didn’t know the sir wanted attention.”

Vermax barked as he licked your face before resting his small head on your chest. It was a sign he wanted to stay by you. You grinned. Vermax was incredibly clingy and a needy dog, at times you thought Jacaerys - your now one-year boyfriend - influenced his behavior.

Your head tilted to the side, behind the canvas, onto the clock mounted on the wall. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “You’re late.”

As you resumed to continue painting with a now snoring puppy on your lap, your phone rang. The flutter in your stomach made you grin, forgetting the small frustration that Jacaerys had not stopped by.

Before the words slipped out of your mouth, the rapid chatter of your boyfriend rang through your ear beautifully making you chuckle.

“I’m so sorry baby!!”

You heard panting and harsh heaving as he apologized before the sound of the slamming of a door. You figured he ran to his car after class was over. You shook your head in amusement, listening to the ramble of your never-ending chatty boyfriend.

He took a deep breath, “So, I meant to finish with the class before 4 but Professor Adams wanted to give us a surprise pop quiz before the finals next week! I swear that old lady wants to murder me! Can you believe she called on me five times in a roll attempting to embarrass me? Bad for her because I know the material, but couldn’t she call on fucking Lannister?!” Jacaerys rambled. You wondered how in the world did he talk so fast without breathing for air. You did not mind; in fact, it made your day whenever Jacaerys Velaryon spoke to you.

“Jace,” you said attempting to talk but your boyfriend was not done. Your mouth twitched, stifling a very heavy laugh now.

“Anyways! I’m sorry baby! I will be there soon! I hope Vermax wasn’t too much, I swear he likes you more than he likes me. But who can blame him? You’re amazing and beautiful. Kind. Did I say beautiful?” His chatter all landed in one breath.

You laughed hard, “Jacaerys breathe!”

Jacaerys paused before he took a big breath of air, “Seven hells… sorry. I did it again.”

“Apologizing for just telling me about your day? You must be insane now,” your fingers tangled themselves into the soft fur of Vermax as you continued, “I miss you. Vermax is okay, he slept all day and ate. He’s currently on my lap sleeping once again after throwing a tantrum of not being held. You are influencing him.”

Jacaerys laughed, “I didn’t! He just loves you as much as I do,” he paused, “Actually no, I love you more than he does, don’t let those big eyes of him fool you.”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice echoed through your body, as if swimming, the waves relaxed you, floating through the deep waves. The grin never slipped.

“Drive safely Jace,” you said, “I miss you.”

The next words that came automatically had your heart jumping out of your chest like a rubber ball. You almost, almost, wanted to scream. You composed yourself.

“I will, I’m rushing to be yours soon, I love you.”

You released a small squeak, Jacaerys smiled smugly knowing you were blushing, the red staining your cheeks that began to hurt from all the smiling you held. He prided himself on such power, he was the only one who would ever make you swoon, and he swore to be the last.

“I love you more,” you squeaked, the heat of embarrassment overcoming the flatter as you cleared your throat to be heard as normal, “See you soon.”

Jacaerys chuckled, his laugh deep, “Bye my love.”

You hummed in response, knowing if you spoke another word, it would put you as a fool. You hung up after, your hand flying to your chest where you felt the rumble of your heart beating against your chest like hard slams against a drum. Get it together, you thought.

Vermax was awake now, his blue and green eyes shining bright as they eyed you. You felt judged by his stare. Even more so when he tilted his head to the side, his tongue licking his nose before continuing with his stare.

“What are you looking at you clingy baby? Your dad is silly! If you want to find a girlfriend Vermax, don’t be like your dad, your girlfriend will bite you,” you spoke to the child on your lap who continued to stare, his eyes holding a hinge of judgment, so you claimed, “I hate your dad.” You hmphed.

Vermax barked, his eyes rolling slightly. You gasped, a pout on your lips, “You traitor,” you picked him up before placing him on your bed where he laid his head on his paws as he stared.

You checked the clock on the wall if you calculated correctly, Jacaerys would be here in 20 minutes, which meant it gave you time to shower. You grimaced when you looked down to judge your state. You were wearing an old jumper, stained with paint everywhere, your hair was pulled back, held by a big hair clip. Quite frankly, you looked like a mess, but when you painted the outfit never mattered. You knew Jacaerys would never mind the way you looked, he never did, he would always receive you with a big smile that made his glasses slide up his nose and a kiss. A kiss that left you breathless every single time.

This time, however, you needed to change, so you rushed into a quick shower and a rapid change of clothes which was your boyfriend’s frat sweater and warm sweats as the weather was getting colder. Winter was here. By the time you finished combing your hair, the door locks being unlocked was heard and suddenly barking - excited barking. You rolled your eyes, of course, Vermax would make a ruckus over Jacaerys.

You applied lotion on your hands before hands wrapped around your waist, a low rumble was enough to make your knees weak. The power of Jacaerys Velaryon. You cursed inwardly. You feigned to be angry knowing it would not last more than ten seconds.

Jacaerys sighed into your neck, “I’ve missed you today.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, tapping his hands where they lay on your stomach.

Through the mirror you saw the way Jacaerys frowned, his bangs hanging over his eyes. You stifled a laugh.

“My love?” he attempted to coddle you, his voice softer, whinier, “Babe… I’m sorry! I should have called you earlier to let you know I was going to be home late.” His hands tightened around your waist when you showed no reaction; he began to press kisses on your neck. “Please don’t be mad,” he pouted.

You giggled, your body twitching as he pressed another kiss on your neck which tickled. He exhaled a breath of relief, “Don’t do that!”

You laughed, twisting around to meet him face to face, your hands wrapped around his neck as he leaned you against the bathroom sink. “Why not? I think it’s funny.”

“Not,” he said, his eyes shining with mischief, a smile on his face as he softly stared. The feeling returned then, the feeling of wanting to scream.

You nodded your head with certainty, a serious look on your face as you tried to hide the loud beating of your heart, “Oh yes.”

His eyes shifted to something dark, he licked his lips. Jacaerys scanned you, his eyes moving to trace the details of your face, memorizing every freckle, the shape of your eyes to the faint hue of his favorite color on your cheeks. His eyes stopped on your lips that were parted. His fingers dug into the sweater you wore, a sharp intake from his nose was all it took for you to know.

Jacaerys raised his eyebrow, the motion sending you into an immediate heart attack.

“Oh yeah? So do you think it will be funny if I,” he leaned towards you, a smirk on his lips as he saw you dazedly lean in, “… do this?” You were ready. Always ready. You needed it. The substance of his love and his dedication. You closed your eyes waiting for the flesh that melted against your lips, the taste of his cherry Chapstick. Jacaerys hummed, you felt his breath giving you a whiplash. He was so close. Suddenly he chuckled.

In a flash, you opened your eyes, and you saw your boyfriend leaning against the wall, a smirk on his lips. You growled in annoyance, jumping on him. A loud ‘oof!’ was heard.

“You evil!” you exclaimed as he held the flesh under your thighs to push you against him.

Laughing he looked up at you, “What? I think it’s funny,” he recalled the same words you gave him. Your eyes flashed with jest, “I hate you,” you pouted, your fingers into his small curls. You knew if he let his hair grow, the curls would be bigger erasing the flat of his hair.

“You know they say opposites attract,” his lips in a wide grin, “because I love you.”

Your face scrunched before groaning, “Ugh.”

Jacaerys raised his head to reach you, “Gimme kiss, I missed my girl.”

Your hands laid on his cheeks, a soft smile now rested on your lips, “You saw me this morning doofus.”

He peeked an eye open, before he whined, “Gimme a kissssssss.”

The explosions erupted, as it always did every single time you kissed Jacaerys Velaryon. His lips covered yours with such fire that left a tingling feeling after. You molded into his body as he did yours, your legs wrapped around his figure as it gave access to his hands that moved to rest on your back and another into the wet strands of your hair. A groan was heard as his hands pressed you closer. You smiled.

Jacaerys softly bit into your bottom lip before he smiled into the softness of your mouth, “I love you.”

To love Jacaerys felt easy for you, it was as if breathing. You loved everything about him, he was kind, patient, loving, a family man who fought for what he believed in, and he held such fire when it came to defending his family and loved ones. Cregan Stark once told you, “An angry Jacaerys is like watching a dragon feed on a sheep.”

You remembered how you looked at the tall man, you stared at him dumbly, “Cregan what the hell? How do you even know what a dragon looks like or how they hunt?”

Cregan only shrugged as he sipped on his beer, “Look, all I’m saying Jacaerys is scary. I feel for the people that cross him, shorty got fire.”

Jacaerys was very responsible, and calculative and walked with such confidence that made you wonder how in the hell you managed to grab his attention, but he claimed it was love at first sight. What you will never know was how Jacaerys admired you on the first day of orientation when you wrapped your hand around Alysanne, Cregan’s girlfriend, as you chatted about how excited you were to join the art club. He will never tell you how amazed and inspired he felt when he saw your artwork displayed in a gallery, your picture with a small introduction next to it was enough to send his head in a spiral. You were talented, quiet, and reserved, but you were also kind, as he often heard of a girl who helped the elderly in a local shelter that his family often helped out.

History was something he took pride upon, he loved to study, to learn of his ancestors, the history of his people, and the treasures lost but soon to one day be discovered. He took a lot of pride in his eagerness to expand his knowledge despite the person he looked like on the outside. Popular, rich, soon-to-be co-president of the frat house, a nerd? That was a contradiction, out of the status quo. However, he cared about nothing other than succeeding and making his family proud, the opinions of his family never made him hesitant or ashamed. He carried his last name with pride.

During the first year, Valyrian history was a class he excitedly enrolled in, and he almost broke his legs coming down steps to his seat when he saw you sitting in the second roll of the grand hall. He told the old gods how thankful he was to share a class with you. More he thanked the gods when the professor assigned a teammate project. There you sat, an awkward expression on your soft features, you looked around in anxiety, you knew no one and you had no idea how to approach someone new.

You jumped when a soft voice spoke from above you, “Do you want to be my partner?”

The book in your hands slipped as the stranger stood confidently, waiting for your response. Your cheeks became hot, “Uh… yeah., of course! I’d love to.” You cringed at the stutters and the disorganization of the spot where you sat. Jacaerys only smiled, though inside he was doing cartwheels.

“I’m Jacaerys Velaryon, first year,” he said as he smiled softly towards you. You organized your books, before eyeing his hand that reached for yours. You smiled politely as you gave your name.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said before he focused on the board as he listened intently. You blushed.

“Thank you,” you mumbled quietly, your face feeling like it was going to melt.

A friendship grew then, and in two weeks, you and Jacaerys became the biggest friends. You always thanked him for helping you with your history homework, but the only response you got was a shake of the head and a wave. He was more than happy to help you. Every Tuesday and Thursday in the mornings you met Jacaerys on the stairs to the main hall where the history lecture was held and in his hand was always a bag of cherries. Your favorite. The color stained your lips just as the color of your cheeks never left when you were beside him.

“Here,” you said one day before class. Jacaerys pushed his glasses up his head to hold his bangs back. His eyes rounded with confusion. You chuckled, “This is for you, as a thank you. You know… for being a good friend and helping me every single time.”

Jacaerys heart felt as if it was going to be heard by you, uncovering the deepest feelings he felt for you. In his hands now laid a handmade ceramic piece in the form of a dragon. The details were very defined, and he wondered how long it took you to finish, it looked professional, very rich in the colors, and you spent dedicated time crafting all the details onto the piece. He gasped as he saw the hidden message.

From you, comes the blood of the dragon.

His head snapped to meet you, his expression tender and appreciative, “Thank you, y/n.”

You smiled widely, your toes curling into the soles of your shoes as you beamed proudly, “You’re welcome Jace.”

The term ended but your friendship with the man you grew feelings for did not. In hidden messages, you showed your love through crafts, taking every technique, you learned in your studio classes to craft small things for the friend who held your heart. Jacaerys cherished those gifts more than his life, proudly showing it off that Cregan called him “Lovesick Romeo.”

Whether he kept the gifts or not, you will never know, but you hoped that he did, they were messages of your love for him.

During midterms, you jokingly mentioned his name sounded so ancient.

“I’m telling Mom you’re calling her old,” was all he said before he smiled when he saw you stop your giggles in fear. Rhaenyra adored you, often did she texted you a good morning and a wish for you to have the best day. To you, she was your other mother, and never did she let you call her Rhaenyra or Ms. Targaryen, nagging your ear off to be called mom.

“You know, as ancient as it sounds, it does look pretty in cursive,” your eyes shined with intrigue, Jacaerys knew already your small habits, the expressions you pulled whenever you switched moods. He knew that now you were about to tell him about art. He only leaned back on his chair, his arms crossed against his chest as he softly smiled, his full attention on you.

You grabbed your drawing pad and your bamboo brush; your small tube of black ink was uncapped as you excitedly showed him what you meant. He watched as you concentrated, your hair falling perfectly around your face, your eyes focused as the inner of your forehead creased and you frowned. He only watched you counting down the days for the perfect time to ask you the big question.

“Okay! Look!”

Jacaerys leaned over you, your hands touching sending your skin in goosebumps. You cleared your throat to show indifference. “Your name is beautiful,” you mentioned softly. Jacaerys locked eyes with you, his brown eyes so glassy that you saw your reflection through his. You gasped softly.

“You made it beautiful,’ he said, “Your writing is beautiful, are you learning that now?”

You were thankful he switched topics as you swore you almost puked from the overwhelming feelings that consumed you whole. “Yeah,” you cleared your throat once again, “Typography, though it’s in digital, is something about tracing different fonts and all that helps too and is effective in the real world.”

Jacaerys hummed, his long fingers tracing the ink on the paper, “Sounds cool.”

You smiled, “It’s very cool.”

You were finally done with finals, cheering softly into the softness of your pillow. Vermax jumped on you, his mouth nibbling on your hair, “Vermax,” you groaned when he pulled a little too hard, “You evil baby.”

A soft ‘roof,’ was heard before he flopped beside you to chew on his plushie Jacaerys had gotten him from Dragonstone.

You flopped on your stomach, your arms hugging the pillow closer to your face, your brain empty, enjoying the comfortable silence. Jacaerys was at his last final of the semester, he left for school after you did so you took the time to relax before going out later that night. Cregan and Alysanne along with Benjicot and a few other friends of Jacaerys invited you both to the bar to celebrate the end of the semester.

As you stared around the bedroom you noticed a shiny box hidden under the cabinet where you and Jacaerys stacked a collection of films and books. You raised an eyebrow, watching the box glimmer against the light of the room. “Huh.”

You stood up to approach the box you had never seen before. As you were about to open it, the phone rang making you jump in fright. “Seven fucking hells!”

Eyeing the box you answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hi baby, sorry! Just a quick question before I head to the test hall. Mom invited us to the city for a family dinner and she asked if you were up for it. Joff has been whining her ear off how much he misses you,” Jacaerys spoke quickly and quietly, you knew he was outside the hall.

“Absolutely! Yeah, I’ll call her right now actually.”

“Okay, that’s all. I’ve gotta go, the professor is here, I’ll see you soon. I love you!”

You smiled, the hold on the phone tightened, “I love you so much more, good luck!”

The phone call was cut short, you prayed he did well, but you never doubted he would do terribly. Jacaerys was very much a nerd hidden behind the popularity of his name and the circle of friends he had. He loved his books more than anything, always eager to know more.

Your eyes went back to the box that tempted you to open, you clicked your tongue. Untying the ribbon, you lifted the hard lid off, your jaw dropping at the contents of the box. “What the -”

Inside the box held every piece of love you ever crafted for Jacaerys, every piece you made with a small sticky note with a date. Your eyes watered, he had kept it all. For two years, Jacaerys Velaryon kept every message you gave him, the small dragon you gifted him sat by his bedside with a picture of you and him. He claimed it was to keep you close whenever you went to work or class. The tears ran down your cheeks as you went over every piece, every painting, and sculpture, until you stopped at a note.

“Oh, my g-”

Jacaerys.

The piece of paper was old, the edges where it seemed to have been ripped off a book glared at you. The memories flooded upon you. You recalled how angry and sad you were when the paper you wrote his name in calligraphy disappeared from your drawing book. In your hands laid the same people you mourned over. On the bottom relied on a new message. A message that made you choke on the sob you released. One of full love and happiness.

February 8th, the day I began counting down the days I would ask her to be mine forever.

☆ jace nation taglist (open): @vividxpages @writtenapoiogy @smurfelle @number-0-iz @peri4stral @girlthatislost @agqrtz @thenotesapppoet ☆ natties angel list (open): @aemondvelaryon @fleurbies @yohanseyebrowmole

☆ slutcult/mooties: @mattnott @manhandlememando @bucksplum @housetargaryenloyalist @xxselenite @vee-mage @v3lary0ns @hxtd @eldrith @bryscorner @princessbellecerise

[ahsxual]

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader where they are dating but the readers parents hate him so one night are 2:33 am Stu knocks on the readers window and she opens it it tells him to leave but before she can get a word out Stu is kissing her and telling her how much he misses her and one thing lead to, and so Stu had to push the readers head into her pillow so she didn’t wake anyone.

Sorry if the store request does not make any sense i’ve been wanting to request something from you for a while and this idea kinda came to my brain as I was falling asleep at four in the morning so I am very sleep deprived lol anyways I love your story. I hope you have a great day

Surprise Baby

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Warnings: +18 content, clingy and soft Stu, dirty talk, degrading, cursing, dom!Stu, p in v (w/o protection), sad Stu at the end (reader comforts him)

Word Count: 1,8k

A/N: This was actually a very interesting request and Ik very well that our daydreams before we sleep are the best 🤭 I added something to the plot at the end, so I hope you still like it! Tysm, I'm so glad you like my writing! It always feels so gratifying whenever you guys tell me that &lt;33

Right now you're lying on your bed crying, while hugging your favorite bunny plush that Stu gave you for Valentine's Day. You'd just had an argument with your parents, since they weren't the biggest fans and supporters of your relationship with your boyfriend Stu Macher. You didn't understand why they didn't like him and didn't even make an effort to, even though Stu always made you happy and made your life more colorful and enjoyable from the moment you met him. Of course Stu had his flaws like everyone else, since perfection is impossible to achieve and that was fine by you. But not for your parents. They said that Stu distracted you from school, that he "lived" for parties and didn't give you your "precious" time to concentrate on your studies, because he always took you on dates so that he could spend more time with you, even when you said you were busy.

You perfectly knew that Stu wasn't a guy who would take "no" for an answer. Maybe it was because he'd always been spoiled by his parents and didn't understand the meaning of that word? Maybe he hated the fact that you would say "no" to him, because if you truly love him as you always say, why would you reject an opportunity to go out with him? Both answers to those questions are probably correct, because you knew that Stu didn't know how to respect your personal space either, not that you minded anyway. But your parents did and that was the problem. They even told you once that Stu was obsessed with you and that your personal life has also become his, as if it were his property. Maybe they were right about that, but that's how Stu showed how much he loved and cared for you and it always worked well in your relationship. And you really missed him.

Sleep didn't want to make its presence known, so you decided to watch your favorite show on your new tv. However, you still couldn't stop thinking about the argument with your parents. Of course you defended your boyfriend and were always on his side to protect him against anyone, even your own parents, but it did made you very upset... all you wanted was for your family to see how genuinely happy Stu makes you feel, how he always admired you and treated you as if you were the only woman to walk on earth and how he's so funny that it's practically impossible not to laugh because of some silly joke he's made until your cheeks hurt. You just wished your family accepted him and loved him as much as you did...

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when you heard your window being knocked on repeatedly. You screamed for a second, because you weren't expecting that to happen in the middle of the cold night. Nevertheless, you immediately felt relieved when you saw Stu standing there with his puppy eyes and big smile on his handsome face you loved so much. A wide smile appeared on your face the moment you realized your boyfriend wanted to surprise you and that he had actually made an effort to see you.

His giant body barely fit through your window and the way he clumsily tried to get into your room, like a cartoon thief, made you laugh until your belly started to get sore.

"Baby, what are you doing?? It's cold outside!" you asked worriedly, before you watched him fall face down on the floor as he let out an "ouch". You couldn't stop laughing at his poor attempt to sneak into your room, as he already knew that your parents would never let him in, especially so late at night. You looked over your bedside table, where your alarm clock was, to see what time it was, as it marked 2:33 am.

"Surprisee baby!" he shouted excitedly, with a contagious smile that didn't leave his face for a moment. His breathing was accelerated, which made you realize he had some trouble climbing up to your window. You felt your heart warming at his romantic gesture, yet you didn't want your parents to find out and kick him out of your house or worse.

"Be quiet babe, you're not supposed to be here! You need to leave Stu, my parents are gonna ki-" you were really worried about your boyfriend's safety, but Stu didn't give you a chance to finish your sentence, as he grabbed you firmly around your waist and began kissing you passionately with his long, skilled tongue. His hands were all over your body and his grip was tight, not allowing you to move away from him.

"Shh- don't worry about them. It's just us now. I've missed you so much, baby." he admitted, before kissing your neck eagerly. When he he'd had enough, he pulled you up by your hips and laid you down on your bed, his mouth never leaving yours. You couldn't help moaning as you felt his sweet, loving assaults on your body, his lips and big hands making you melt into his addictive touch.

"Love, we have to be quiet... and you're making it hard for me." by now you were feeling breathless, unable to contain your desire for your horny and needy boyfriend. Instinctively, you rubbed against Stu's crotch which made him groan in pleasure, as you could feel him already hard under his jeans. He began to gently pinch your nipples through the fabric of your short pajama top, enjoying and closely analyzing your reactions to his teasing touch.

"Looks like I have to shut you up so we don't get caught, baby..." the last thing you saw was a mischievous grin on your boyfriend's face, before he firmly turned you around so that you were on all fours for him. He pressed his erection against your ass, while his eyes rolled back as he put his head back from the stimulation and his mouth was slightly open. You were starting to enjoy this game way too much, to see who couldn't hold back their moans, and you made sure you would win this battle. You pushed your ass against him and started rolling your hips in a provocative way, knowing that Stu wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. He bit his lips at this and frowned, realizing what you were trying to do to him.

"My girl really wants to get some, huh? You wanna play dirty, doll? Do you really think you can win this game against me?" he laughed trying to mock you, making you feel pathetic if you really thought you could stay quiet with the way he was about to fuck you.

"Just fuck me already Stu, I can't hold it much longer..." you quickly gave up and decided to beg him for mercy, so you could feel him inside you for once. You were dripping by now and the thought of having to keep quiet so no one would catch you at such a vulnerable and intimate moment turned you on even more for some reason.

You finally felt him give you want you wanted, since Stu himself wasn't a very self-controlled guy when it came to you. You felt his tongue lick a long, firm strip from your throbbing clit to your pulsing, empty hole. This made you grip your pillow as hard as you could while he ate you out from behind. Unfortunately, it didn't last much longer like you'd hoped, as you didn't realize how horny and impatient Stu was feeling that night. Suddenly, you felt his fully erect cock enter you without any resistance, sliding easily into you because you were so wet with your cum and his saliva. He didn't give you any time to adjust to him as he usually did and started pounding you hard and fast. He knew you all too well, so he pushed your face against your pillow to prevent any sound coming out of your pretty mouth and kept his strong hand on your head. You prayed that no one would hear you both fucking like horny teenagers who can't control their sexual hormones. It wasn't your fault that you and Stu were so fucking attracted to each other and that your shared love was considered obsessive, right?

"You like that, don't you babygirl? You love it when I fuck you like this... You needy slut, can't get enough of your boyfriend's cock inside your tight hole. I bet your parents would be so embarrassed if they saw you getting fucked this good." he whispered in your ear before changing his angle to fuck you deeper. Wet sounds, your muffled moans and his heavy breathing were the only sounds being heard in your room, turning you both on even more. It didn't last much longer when you both came at the same time, since Stu was way too horny to hold his orgasm. He was so glad he'd made you cum before he climaxed inside you.

After the moment of ecstasy you both experienced, you lay there trying to catch your breath while staring at the ceiling. It was then that Stu pulled you closer to him and hid his face on your neck, clinging to you more than usual. He was acting way too needy and clingy, and wasn't trying to be the "dominant" one, which made you worry about him.

"Are you ok, love? Do you wanna talk about it?" you asked him softly as you caressed his hair and cheeks. You knew him too well to recognize whenever he wasn't feeling good, even when he was trying to hide it.

"My girl knows me so well." he chuckled weakly, trying to find the right words to tell you what was had been bothering him. After a moment of silence in which you tried to comfort him with your tender touches, he finally spoke. "My parents won't be able to make it for my birthday. Again." your heart ached for him, because you knew this problem had happened before. Although Stu's parents loved him and treated him right, they had never been very present throughout his life and that took a tool on his emotional behavior. That explained why he was so addicted to your attention and wanted you all to himself, all the time. It made you really sad that you couldn't help your boyfriend properly, because the presence of anyone's parents is irreplaceable.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, baby. I'm sure they're extremely busy with work and that's the only reason for their absence on such a special day. We both know that they love you and I'll be there for you to make sure you have the biggest party ever." you gently grabbed his face and smiled warmly at him, admiring his ocean eyes that reminded you of the maldivian water, as he stared back at you with pure love.

"I know you will. What would I do without you? You're the love of my life, you know that right?" you chuckled as you softly kissed his cute nose.

"I love you too, Stu... so much. You have no idea of how much love I have for you and no one ever will."

[samkerrworshipper]

underneath the surface

umm so i’m back.. kind of? this fic was a rollercoaster but i hold it very near and dear to my heart. i hope you all enjoy it and find some comfort in it because i definitely do <3

warnings: no warnings just some medical jargon and talks of endometriosis!

Alexia has always been credited for her attentiveness.

Most people say that it’s the reason she’s such a good captain, and of course, she denies to everybody that she just goofs around less than some of her teammates.

But, inevitably, it’s true, Alexia is a lot more attentive than other people. She pays attention to the small things, the under the surface things, things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelid at.

Although, in her opinion, she doesn’t need to be observant nor attentive to be curious about this one part of your relationship.

It doesn’t take brilliant observation skills to recognise a pattern, from the age of two most people are able to recognise patterns. For a two year old, it’s colours and shapes and different farm animals. For Alexia it’s become an observation.

It’s routine, a pattern, a constant repeat in your relationship that for the first few months she ignored.

Like a broken record constantly repeating itself, every month, without fail, you disappeared for a couple of nights.

Not literally, for those days you’ll retreat of the pitch and inside to the gym but Alexia still sees you everyday, and for the most part, you’ll still go out for coffee with her and go on walks together, but for at least three nights, sometimes up to 7, there are no sleepovers, no late night movie binges, no dinners.

It went unnoticed by Alexia for longer than normal, love was Alexia’s biggest weakness and it subtly impaired her abilities to be as observant as she prided herself.

Who could blame her? It was hard to be detail oriented when she was too busy enjoying the puppy dog love that came from realising that she was so in love with her life with you, even if it was still relatively new.

But, even with her focus partially impaired, it didn’t take a whole lot of skills to recognise the abnormality of what was occurring.

It was particularly abnormal, because for every other day of the month, you spent your nights at Alexia’s. Alexia would even go as far to say that you're pretty much moved into her apartment. Your dog had a bed in her apartment, your training kit and bag had a permanent spot at her door, most of your clothes were now sitting next to Alexia’s in her wardrobe.

Your apartment, for the most part, existed purely for the sake of storing all of your furniture. Alexia had brought up leasing it, you’d been dating for almost a year now and whilst it was a short time to move in with each other, the two of you spent so much time together that to her it made the most sense. Beyond that, it was her way of testing the water, to see if her observation was as real as she began to think it was.

Your immediate denial of the idea confirmed what she had been beginning to think.

Originally, she’d thought that maybe you were overwhelmed from constantly being around Alexia, it was a lot being at training together all day and then heading home to each other.

It didn't make sense though.

When you were together, you were attached at the hip. You were both naturally clingy towards each other and after questioning Mapi about it, as ambiguously as she could, she was backed up in that it wasn’t normal behaviour for an overwhelmed person to be so eager to be so connected.

So, the theory was canned and when the following month the same thing happened, Alexia’s curiosity peaked once again.

She moved onto a theory that maybe it was some kind of homesickness, that you just needed to sleep in your own bed a couple of nights every month.

But not only did you constantly complain about your own apartment and how unhomey it felt in comparison to Alexia’s, it was always the same week every month.

Which should have been the biggest clue, and yet for whatever reason it had completely slipped past Alexia.

It was only when one of the team doctors had approached Alexia about her cycle changing, that it all clicked for her.

Alexia’s period had skipped, and they’d logged it a couple of months ago. Obviously, without noticing, it had been because the two of you had synched up, which made plenty of sense.

Alexia’s period was an inconvenience, but it wasn’t a true bother, just something she had to put up with. In all honesties though, for her, her period was nothing to her, she had hardly any symptoms, her body functioned the exact same way, everything was almost the exact same.

Yet, every month, when apparently your period came around, you happened to disappear for a couple of days. Alexia would have loved to think it was a coincidence, but with her new knowledge, she decided to put it to test.

She wasn’t surprised, when the following month her own period came, a couple of days later you were back to hiding out at your place for a couple of nights.

Like lightwork, when you came back to Alexia, you were the exact same, like nothing had happened, and yet Alexia was certain that there was something being hidden underneath the surface.

A lot of people were insecure about their period, Alexia had grown up in a house full of girls, her period had been anything but stigmatised, and she was grateful for that.

She was self aware enough though to know that not everybody was fortunate enough to have that same experience. She was also aware that unfortunately, sometimes peoples partners could be unaccepting and close minded about those kinds of things.

So, when the following month, Alexia got her period and without fail, four days later you mentioned that you would drive yourself to training so that you could head back to your apartment afterwards, Alexia was already plotting away.

She had time to think about it during video review that day, there wasn’t a lot to focus on then when the team was coming off of a 4-0 win to Atletico and anything that was of importance, aAlexia had already noted when she’d watched the immediately after the game.

It was a sound plan in her mind, chocolate, a heat pack, your favourite italian takeaway, Alexia’s favourite hoodie that you always tried to steal and your favourite blanket from her apartment.

Alexia wanted you to know that you could be just as comfortable in her home, regardless of what was happening. Hopefully, in knowing that, you’d let go of the part of you that was so clearly avoiding Alexia.

Alexia, above being observant, liked to be a problem solver. She liked to take initiative, she liked to fix things.

So, after a shower and a quick snack when she’d returned home, she packed up all of the supplies. On the way to your apartment, which she hadn’t visited in months, she picked up food and then was on her way.

In the early months of your relationship, it had just been easier for the two of you to spend time at Alexia’s because it was closer to the training grounds and more lived in.

Whilst you’d been living in Barcelona now for nearly three years, your home was still in England, and it had been hard for you to fully settle into Barcelona even if it was your home for now.

Alexia knew it, so she’d welcomed you into her home with open arms. It had been heartwarming for her to slowly watch you integrate yourself into Alexia’s life, it made her happier then anything else.

So, she made her mind up that whatever this bump was, she was going to help you get over it, so that she could have all of you, and most importantly so you would feel like Alexia cared.

The feeling that Alexia got as she pulled up next to your car in the lot of your apartment was chilling, in her gut it felt like something was wrong. It was a feeling that set into Alexia's stomach as she stepped out of her car and hurried to collect her things before making her way over to the elevator.

Alexia stays as composed as she can manage, even though on the inside, the worry is starting to set in.

It’s not like theoretically she has anything to worry about, it’s not like this is an abnormal situation, but the weird feeling in Alexia’s stomach is putting her off and the only thing that she can think will make it better is seeing your face.

All Alexia wants to do is wrap you up in her arms for a moment, for her own peace of mind, to stop the off feeling that has been resonating inside of her as she’s tried to get to the bottom of this problem, that’s not really a problem. It’s an inconsistency, and one thing about Alexia is that she doesn’t like inconsistency. She fixes problems, she doesn’t enjoy living life whilst there is something that isn’t quite right, and she needs to make this right.

Alexia knocks at your door quietly, two little raps that she hopes you hear.

When she receives nothing in response, she knocks again, this time a little bit louder.

Alexia waits a few seconds, whilst it’s been a couple of hours since your session there is the off chance that you're in the shower or bath.

After quite a bit of waiting with no noises from the other side of the door, Alexia knocks once more, already pulling her keychain from her pocket and feeling for the spare key to your apartment.

When she finds it, she pulls it up to the lock, waiting just a few more seconds before slotting it into the keyhole and twisting it until it clicks.

The first thing Alexia notices is that your apartment is completely pitch black and if it weren’t for the fact that she saw your car earlier, she might have just left.

Alexia tiptoes her way through the entryway and into your kitchen, it’s hard to see much with all of the blinds pulled shut and none of the lights on, so she blindly feels around for the light switch until she finally finds it and flicks it.

The immediate groan that comes from the direction of your couch definitely does not go unnoticed by Alexia.

“Lights off.”

As fast as she can, Alexia turns the light back off, before curiously tiptoeing over to the edge of your couch.

You’re a lump under a pile of blankets, but she’s able to make out the shape of your body underneath it.

“Hey baby.”

You groan again, and the feeling in Alexia’s stomach only gets worse.

Alexia takes a few steps forwards, assessing you in front of her.

Her hand reaches out tentatively for you, she feels around the mass of blankets until she feels a part of your body underneath the pile of fluff, she follows the lump until she makes her way up to your head.

Your whole body is warm, or the blankets are warm, she isn’t actually quite sure where the blankets end and your body starts.

“Why are you here?”

Your voice is all croaky, and Alexia is certain you must be sick and she’s somehow missed all the symptoms of it.

“I wanted to spend the night with you.”

Alexia’s hand finally finds a bit of skin on your neck and she traces her fingers until she finds your jawline.

“Go home, Ale.”

The sound of your voice is making Alexia antsy, she can’t believe she’s missed the fact that you are sick.

“No, bebita, you’re sick and I’m here to look after you. I have your favourite food and chocolate, we can cuddle up in bed and you can sleep this off. I brought my hoodie for you.”

Alexia turns your head up, so your hair is peaking out of the blanket mound and she can see your squinted eyes.

“I’m not sick, Alexia.”

You keep your eyes crammed shut for the sake of not making the pounding headache you have any worse.

“Bebita, you’re all hot and croaky, it’s okay to be sick, I’m here to look after you.”

If you weren’t working so hard to keep your eyes closed you’d roll them, but that seems like far too much work for right now.

“Alexia I’m not sick, I’m just on my period.”

Alexia’s brow furrows, if your eyes weren’t closed you’d catch it. It’s the same furrow that always happens when Alexia thinks somebody else is wrong and she’s right.

“Bebita, this seems like a little bit more than a period. It’s okay, I’m here.”

You groan and Alexia recoils slightly.

“It’s just my period.”

Your deadpan makes Alexia confused.

“Your period shouldn’t be this bad. Are you having some heatstroke? It’s been warm out today, or are you having a migraine? You need to remember to hydrate.”

Your head is throbbing and Alexia’s theories aren’t helping.

“I have endometriosis Alexia, this is what my period looks like.It’s not fucking heatstroke or a sickness it’s just how my body is..”

Out of everything Alexia had been suspecting, that wasn’t it.

It suddenly dawns on Alexia that she can’t fix what you’ve just told her, she’s standing in front of you completely dumbfounded at what to do in this moment.

Alexia is a problem solver, she finds solutions for the biggest and smallest problems, and yet she doesn’t have a solution for the problem she is being faced with.

“Baby, just go home, the first night for me is always the worst, if I feel better I can hang out with you tomorrow.”

Alexia doesn’t have a solution to the pain you are going through, but she knows she isn’t going to let you suffer alone. The information that you’ve been doing this by yourself for a year now is making Alexia feel like the worst girlfriend ever and she’s going to change that.

“No, bebita, no. I’m staying here tonight, I’m here for you mi vida. Would it make you feel better if we got you into bed or into a bath? What’s going to make you more comfortable? Have you had medication? How about some food?”

When another groan leaves your lips, Alexia becomes aware that she’s approaching this the wrong way.

“How about I go and put the food in your kitchen and you decide what’s going to make you feel best. I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

Alexia quietly tiptoes back into your kitchen, taking her time to put her things away and pulling two bottles of water from your fridge before making her way back into your living room.

You’ve emerged from your pile by the time she is back, your eyes are still closed but just seeing your face makes Alexia’s nerves settle just a little bit.

“Can we go to my bed, please?”

Alexia smiles at you softly.

“Of course amor, do you want me to carry you or do you think you can walk?”

The apprehension on your face is enough of a answer for Alexia.

She walks over towards you, picking up your blanket fort and body like it’s nothing and gently lifting you up, stepping carefully in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan out at the change of position, nothing feels good at the moment but Alexia’s arms are more comforting than the scratchy material of your couch cushions.

When she makes it to your bed, she lowers you down like you are the most delicate piece of glass, making sure that you’re tucked underneath the sheets before easing you out of your arms.

“Do you need anything? Heat pack? Water? Talk?”

Again, all Alexia’s words do is make the itching pain all over your body ten times worse, it’s all consuming and makes you feel choked.

“Bed, hugs, that’s all I want.”

Alexia is antsy, she wants to make the pain you are in better, she wants to know what to do right now instead of being completely blind in the situation.

“Are you sure? How about some pain relief or a cold compress?”

Alexia is no doctor, and up until five minutes ago she had absolutely no idea about this whole situation and whether she feels like she can admit it or not she’s terrified about it all.

She’s made up her mind that as soon as you're asleep she’s going to go on a deep dive of google searches to get to the bottom of this whole situation, but that will have to wait.

“Alexia, if you want to be here, just get into bed and give me some fucking hugs. I’m not in the mood to be told what to do with my body when I’ve been dealing with this for years, make up your mind of whether you want to be here or not.”

Alexia avoids conflict with you at all costs, she’s earned the title around your football friends of being your puppy dog, because she simply agrees to anything and everything that leaves your lips, and hearing you remotely mad at her makes her crumble.

“Sorry bebita, I’m so sorry, you’re right. I’m here for whatever you need.”

Alexia makes quick work of slipping her shoes off, something she never got around to in the darkness of your entryway.

She follows by taking her socks and outer layers off, stripping down until she’s in her tank top and a pair of old Barcelona training shorts.

Once she’s done she creeps around to the other side of your bed, slipping underneath the covers as subtly as she can manage.

When she’s completely covered, she lies back, unsure of how to approach all of this new information.

“You’re lying like a rigid corpse.”

Alexia gulps, she can see you in her peripherals, you look absolutely exhausted and in the kindest way possible, ten years older with the amount of wrinkles across your skin, bumps and ridges she can only imagine are the tightness holding in all of the struggle that you’re going through underneath the surface.

“Alexia, I’m okay, I’m not dying.”

Alexia knows theoretically that is true, she doesn’t have endometriosis and she’s not close to anybody who does, but she knows what it is. She knows it’s not cancer or something life-threatening, but the depth of the realisation that you’ve been suffering for so long and have kept it from Alexia is slowly pulling her apart at the seams.

You roll over slightly, it causes shocks of pain to go up and down your back and stomach, but you need the comfort as much as Alexia does, even if she isn’t ready to accept it.

She’s going through her process, compartmentalising all of it so she can be the brave and stoic face she always is.

You’re used to it, and you’ve come to realise that even though in these kinds of situations it seems like Alexia needs to be left alone, in reality she needs to be kept close by her nearest and dearest.

So, you worm your way on top of her body, it makes the cramps ten times worse and the nausea takes control of your stomach, forcing somersault after somersault, but when Alexia’s arms reach around you out of instinct it’s worth it.

You’re in pain, your uterus feels like it’s got knives embedded along the lining of it, like there are needles poking in and out of your back and gunshots being fired across your lower abdomen. But you’re well used to it, you’re used to the feeling of needing to throw up from having such intense throbbing pain across your whole core.

You’re used to the pounding headaches and migraines that come naturally from your body being so inflamed and agitated that all the tension eventually spreads to every single inch of your body, from the tips of your fingers to the edges of your toes.

Your head settles on Alexia’s shoulder, and her hand snakes it’s way down to the outside of your thigh, she’s being more cautious than she’s ever been with you and the normal you would probably be heartwarmed by her sweetness but the part of you that is currently seeing the worst kind of stars because of the cramps coursing through your body is just desperate to climb into her bones now that she is here with you.

It’s been ingrained in you since you were a kid that it was best to not bother other people with your weakness, it was your own struggle, your own burden.

You’d kept it from Alexia for this sole purpose, for the purpose that you knew she would take it all on as her problem, that she would try and fix it all and spend all of her time and energy trying to solve it all when you just wanted her to treat you the exact same.

She treated you like a princess everyday, but add a crippling reproductive condition and you knew she’d treat you like a priceless artefact. You were grateful you had a person in your life who would move heaven and earth in such a way for you but it was suffocating sometimes, when you were functioning on a normal level.

It was with those thoughts running rampant in your head that you slipped off into the same light sleep that you were lucky to drift into in these circumstances.

Whilst you drifted off, Alexia was left alone with her own thoughts.

Insecurity wasn’t something Alexia experienced often, she was secure in her body, she is as secure in her football as she has been since her knee injury, she’s secure in her family and up until today she felt completely secure in her relationship.

Now, she doesn’t know how she feels.

She knows that it’s likely you have a good reason to have kept this a secret, or a reason that you’ve justified to yourself. She knows underneath it all, you’re the one who’s secretly been hiding a big insecurity from her and she has no right to be truly mad about it, she’s disappointed that you haven’t felt able to share this with her when it feels like Alexia has bared all of her deepest, boniest secrets with you.

She does what makes sense, she reaches for her phone from her short pocket and begins to google all of the big questions that are swirling around in her mind.

You might have wanted to keep this a secret from Alexia but now that she knows about it she’d be a bad girlfriend if she didn’t educate herself on this.

So, instead of drifting off to sleep, Alexia drifts off into the land of medical journals and words that she doesn’t understand the meaning of but she’s determined to figure out.

You wake up in the morning in less of a state of excruciating suffering, instead of being stuck in a fiery inferno of hell you feel like you're dancing more on the periphery.

Your body is warm, in a way that makes you feel less like your insides are scorching you from the inside and more like you're generally just hot.

It feels like a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon as you try to unroll from the blankets that you’d swaddled yourself in the night beforehand in an attempt to try and make yourself feel as small as possible in hopes it would somehow shrink down everything you were feeling.

It’s a feverish dream, and as you recall your night, blotches begin to come back to you and the memory of your girlfriend appearing somewhere along the way makes the dull cramps across the front of your stomach beat in a way that makes you uncomfortably uneasy all over again.

As you assess your surroundings and open your eyes for what feels like the first time in months, you notice that Alexia is no longer in bed with you.

It’s all extremely faint in your head and there is an off chance you’ve dreamt it all up, but the very faint smell of coffee drifting through the air and folded up clothes sitting on the dresser on the wall across from your bed.

You’re feeling less deathly than last night, so you wager your chances with slowly sitting up in your bed, when you don’t feel any different you begin to lift your legs up.

Your muscles ache in the same way they do every time your period comes around, they tweak and they constrict like you’re an eighty year old instead of a twenty something.

It’s rough, it’s uncomfortable and it’s painful but it’s life.

It’s your life, it’s your burden, it’s your problem and knowing that Alexia is now a part of it all makes you queasy in a completely different way.

Your heavy on your feet as you stand up and begin to creep towards the door of your bedroom, with every step every one of your toes grinds against the floorboards. Your heel digs in, your ankles crunch, your body moves in a way that mirrors the way that you are crumbling from within. On these kinds of days, weeks and months, everything hurts. Everything is an effort.

Once you make it to your open door, you steady yourself against it, your nerves are working against you, everything inside of you is actively trying to stop you and you’ll be damned if you let it happen.

You only stand still long enough for it to be classified in your brain as a stall, not a break, not a stop. You can’t stop in times like this, if you stop then you’ll never get going again and that is a whole pit of fuckedupness that you aren’t ready to dive into.

From the door, you try your hardest to tiptoe your way through the hallway to your living space, but it’s impossible in your body.

As you inch closer, the sound of Alexia only becomes more apparent and obvious, and as you creep closer the agitation across your body only gets worse.

As you reach the archway between your hallway and living space, the sight in front of you makes your heart throb and your uterus ache even worse then it already is.

Alexia is swaying in your kitchen, apparently to whatever music she has playing in her head. There is coffee on the counter, accompanied by two bottles of juice and water, like she couldn’t decide what would be best. To accompany the extra drinks is toast, eggs, bacon and pancakes on the stove.

It’s too much.

With the combination of hormones in your bloodstream you’re honestly impressed that you don’t burst into tears.

Alexia’s still here.

Alexia, sweet, loyal Alexia.

You’ve been conditioned to keep all of this a secret, that during this week it’s best to keep yourself and everything you’re going through hidden, for the best of yourself and for everyone around you. Yet, here Alexia is doing way too much for you.

You’re downward spiralling when her voice breaks you out.

“Hey bebe.”

Her voice is close to a coo, the same voice she uses with Irene’s son. You don’t let it affect you in the moment, but you’ll think about the tactic of it later.

“I have food for you, and coffee if you want it, but google told me that sometimes that’s not always good for endometriosis. So I got juice as well, because google also said it might help with inflammation.”

The thought behind it is extremely sweet, and you feel slightly overwhelmed by all of the options.

“You didn’t need to do that for me.”

Alexia frowns, it’s slight and hardly noticeable, but the little wrinkle between her eyebrows is an immediate tell.

“I wanted to, I want to help you, however I can.”

The sentiment behind her words is lost in the sudden shock that you experience as her words settle in, you’ve never met a single person, besides a doctor whose job it was to help you, that gave a shit about this.

When you have no words, Alexia finds some for you.

“I want to talk to you about this, I want to know about it, I want to help you. We’re partners, we do everything together, and I want to do this with you. I don’t want you to lock me out and I don’t want you suffering alone. I’m here for this, I’m here for you to lean on.”

You nod your head, her words feel like a drug, like it’s lifting away some of the pain you’re going through.

“I’m serious, this isn’t something you can hide from me. You looked after me when I hurt my knee and I am here to look after you in the same way when you’re in pain. Bebita?”

Alexia’s hand falls to your side, caressing your hip gently.

“I’m not used to people knowing about this, and I’m even more not used to people caring, I’m sorry, it’s just a lot to process.”

Alexia’s face softens, and before you can say any other stupid mumbles, she pulls you from the hip into her body. Her arms are warm, and yet oddly they soothe your prickly skin.

You melt into Alexia, you feel like shit but she makes you feel marginally better.

“Coffee, or juice?”

You stifle a giggle that falls from your lips.

“Juice, please.”

Alexia relaxes her arms, taking a step back.

“Can I get you any pain relief, or a new heat pack? Is your headache better?”

Alexia looks at you with so much genuine care that it’s hard to not feel embarrassed.

“Pain relief doesn’t sit well in my stomach on a good day. I save heat packs for when the cramps are really bad or else they don’t have the same effect. My headaches normally are at the end of the day as a result of tension build up during the day.”

Alexia looks as if she’s taking mental note of everything you’ve just told her, for later.

“How about some food, hmm?”

You want to say yes, because Alexia’s clearly gone to so much effort for you, but you know that if you eat this early and then train your stomach contents is going to end up on a pitch or somewhere inconvenient.

“My stomach won’t keep it if we train later, I’m better to eat afterwards.”

Alexia’s brow furrows once again.

“I called the doctor and Pere this morning, we’re both taking today off.”

Everything warm and good about the moment fades, and suddenly all you feel is confusion.

“Why did you do that?”

Alexia steps away from you and retreats into your kitchen, grabbing a glass for you and picking up the bottle of juice that she knows you prefer.

“Because I thought you were dying last night, and you can’t tell me that all of that has just disappeared this morning. You’re struggling and you don’t need to push through pain to prove that you are worthy or good enough. You’re self worth shouldn’t be dictated by you proving to yourself that you can work through a chronic disease. I’m sorry that I didn't notice earlier and that I wasn't there for you earlier but I'm here to advocate for you now.”

You want to tell Alexia that you don’t need an advocate, you can advocate just fine for yourself. But a part of you knows that she doesn’t want to hear it and that part of you is also the part that is crippling from the inside and simply doesn’t have the energy to argue with your girlfriend.

“I train just fine normally.”

Alexia can’t argue that, even though you spend the time in the gym, she’s never heard of anything out of the ordinary occurring.

“But you don’t have to. In fact when I talked to our doctor she told me that she’d been insisting on you being more cautious of your cycle and spending more time resting during it considering your history.”

You roll your eyes, taking the glass of juice Alexia offers you.

Alexia plates up a breakfast that could feed a family of four, but it makes you feel less bad for not eating any of it.

“It’s my body, I know my limits.”

You focus on your glass of juice and not the face Alexia makes at you.

“You know how to continuously meet and exceed your limits, but what about just leaving them and giving yourself some peace. I know nothing about what you are going through, I can only sympathise. But I know this must be incredibly hard and I know you definitely do not give yourself enough grace and definitely don’t care for your needs enough. I’m here for you to confide in, I’ve done my research, I’m prepared to help however you need.”

It’s endearing how clearly prepared Alexia has made herself.

“You’ve done your research, hmm?”

Alexia nods proudly.

“Lots of it. Like about how orgasms can help with cramps.”

She looks like she’s going to say more, but you splutter your juice straight back into your cup, causing her to stop.

Alexia’s always been more open with her sexuality then you are, it’s culturally more acceptable in Spain but she also grew up with it being slightly more normalised.

“Alexia.”

Her grin is broad, like she’s proud that she’s managed to embarrass you.

“It’s true! Although for some people endometriosis can cause pain whilst having sex, so if you’re one of those people then it may not work but if you want to try I’m happy to help, fingers, toys, everything but mouths is on the table.”

Your blush only gets more cemented.

“I’m okay for right now, the thought of any kind of intimacy makes my fallopian tubes ache.”

Alexia nods her head, you are certain that sometime in the future this topic will arise again. Alexia’s rabbit-like sex drive makes it hard to not involve sex in everything you do together.

“Can I ask what your symptoms normally look like?”

Alexia’s lip is caught between her teeth, it’s the first time she’s looked nervous this entire conversation.

“Of course. Normally for me, I get bad pelvic pain which never really goes away, sweats, fever sometimes, cramps everywhere, i bloat, i get quite nauseous and occasionally it can make me moody. Furthermore, it can cause me to have migraines, some joint pain, insomnia, there are other things but those are the main ones. Overall it just makes me drained, i’m more fatigued but I can’t sleep, it makes me feel pretty lifeless.”

Alexia nods, she listens to every single word with so much attention.

“I always assumed the scars on your stomach were from getting your appendix removed, but I’m assuming now it’s a laparoscopy?”

You’re impressed by the level of detail Alexia has gone to for you.

“I have had my appendix removed but also yes, I’ve had two laparoscopy’s and I’m putting off getting my third done.”

Alexia nods.

“Do they make it better?”

You bite your lip before nodding.

“It’s never perfect, but for a bit it definitely makes my symptoms better. I’m putting off getting my next one because the last time I did it put me out of action for two months and it took me a while to get back to where I was. My body is different, it changes you. Before you ask, I’ve tried birth control, I’ve tried IUD’s, I’ve tried other forms of contraception, they all made it impossible for me to play football.”

Alexia shakes her head.

“I wasn’t going to ask you that, it’s your decision what you do and don’t put in your body, and I’m sure you’re just making whatever decisions work best for you.”

It’s refreshing having somebody not question what you do and don’t do for yourself.

“That means a lot to me.”

Alexia puts down her cutlery, her food somehow disappearing into her stomach.

“It’s just what love is, and I’m here to love you for forever, if you’ll let me.”

You’ve put off crying, you’ve tried your very best, but it’s not possible anymore.

The tears fall freely, and before you know it Alexia has pulled you into her lap.

It hurts, everything hurts, and yet everything feels so much better knowing you’re in her arms.

“I’ve got you bebita, I’m here now, I’m here to help you work this all out.”

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whelp that’s done! thoughts, feedback and general opinions would be appreciated! i’m so happy to have made something for yall and it’s rushed and super unedited and definitely not my favorite work but i hope you enjoy it all the same 🫶