#why was he sending laura and carrie to town

[exdivine]

im so happy women agree with my irrational hatred for charles "pa" ingalls

[mcrdvcks]

Until I Found You

Summary: Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.

Word Count: 24.3k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!teacher!reader

Notes: this is looong, and believe me, i was surprised when i realized that it ended up being 24,000 words.

this thing is a slow-burn, i was literally screaming at my screen saying 'just kiss already!' then realizing that, in fact, i'm the one who has to make them kiss or confess or do something.

reader has a last name, but other than that, she isn't described. this technically could be considered an AU of logan (2017) where logan survives, so this was written with old man logan in mind.

i would like to turn this into another oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests! (relating to this or anything else you want to see!)

warnings: none!

The small town you lived in meant a few things, everyone knew everyone, and everyone got in everyone’s business.

A few months ago, an older man and his young daughter moved into town. You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, of course you knew who he was, but even you had to admit, he was attractive. But that’s what everyone thought, you heard the mothers who would pick up their children from school, looking at Logan as he picked up Laura.

It was nice to see a man who picked up his kid, though you’ve never seen Laura’s mother, so perhaps that explains why.

Laura was a quiet and sweet girl, at least that’s what you thought. Apparently, she also had the spirit of a firecracker and got angry easily. And while she’s visited the principal’s office at least 9 times since she’s been here, you still can’t help but see her as a cute little girl who’s been through something traumatic, whatever it was.

You were standing outside with your class in the afternoon, waiting until all the students were picked up. Laura was in another teacher’s class at the end of the day, your coworker Emma Zhou. You and Emma stood next to each other, your classes mingling as they waited for their parents to pick them up.

Emma leaned close to you, “this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”

“Yeah, I think it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day. We get to go home after this.” You replied.

“It used to be that, but now…” Emma trailed off as you glanced over at her, “there aren’t a lot of people in this town who are good looking. But he’s a great new addition.”

You hummed noncommittally, so what if Logan was good-looking? It wasn't like you spent your time ogling him. He was just another parent in the sea of them, a bit rougher around the edges maybe, but nothing that special. Emma shot you a knowing look.

"Come on, you’ve seen him, right? That scruffy beard, those eyes," Emma said, nudging you with her elbow. "He’s like one of those rugged cowboys from the old Westerns."

"You sound like you're about to swoon," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light. You didn't want to admit you might have noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at Laura or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Well, can you blame me?" Emma shot back with a grin. "Small town like ours, and a guy like that shows up? It's bound to turn some heads."

You knew that much. All the women, even those who were married, always ogled him, but he either didn’t mind or didn’t care. His salt and pepper hair, the thick beard—he was practically a wet dream for women everywhere.

Emma nudged you again, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, you’re not even the least bit curious about him?"

"I mean, sure, he's... attractive, but I'm not about to join the fan club," you said, shrugging it off, though you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You kept your focus on the kids in front of you, especially Laura, who sat quietly on the steps, doodling in her notebook like she always did while waiting for her dad.

Emma smirked, clearly not buying your indifference. "Yeah, right. I see the way you look over there sometimes."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're seeing things."

Just then, you noticed Logan’s truck pull into the school parking lot. He stepped out, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the crowd of parents. Laura immediately perked up, her quiet demeanor shifting just a little, and she started gathering her things without a word.

"Speak of the devil," Emma murmured, but you ignored her, watching as Logan approached, his usual scowl in place, though it softened when his eyes landed on his daughter.

He gave a brief nod in your direction as he came closer. "Afternoon."

"Hey," you replied, casually. You weren’t about to give Emma the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

Laura stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she walked over to him. She paused in front of you, though, glancing up with those big, serious eyes of hers.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice quiet but steady with a hint of her accent.

You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."

She gave a small nod before taking Logan’s hand. He didn’t say much else, just a simple ‘thanks’ before turning to leave with Laura in tow. You watched them walk away for a moment longer than necessary, noticing the slight limp in his step that he tried to hide.

"Y/N," Emma sing-songed, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Admit it, you’ve got a little thing for him, don't you?"

You rolled your eyes. "You really need a new hobby."

Emma laughed, but before she could press any further, her attention shifted to another parent picking up their kid, and you were grateful for the distraction. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder about Logan and Laura, what their story was. Everyone in town seemed to have their theories—some more ridiculous than others—but you’d always figured it wasn’t your place to pry.

As the crowd of students and parents thinned out, you found yourself thinking about Logan again. His gruff exterior didn’t bother you—it reminded you of those old Clint Eastwood characters, tough but with something vulnerable underneath. Maybe it was the way he looked at Laura, so protective but with a softness that made you wonder what kind of man he really was when he let his guard down.

Emma’s voice pulled you back to the present. "So, what’s your plan for the evening?"

You shrugged. "Probably just grading papers. Maybe catching up on some Netflix. You?"

"Trying to figure out how to run into Logan at the grocery store," she joked, though you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t kidding.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good luck with that."

As you both said your goodbyes and headed to your cars, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time. He was already driving off, Laura in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window.

You let out a small sigh and got in your car, starting the engine. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but there was something there. Maybe Emma wasn’t entirely wrong.

Not that you’d ever admit that to her.

---

Much to your dismay, you had to go to the store once you were already clad in your loungewear. You wanted to make pasta, only to remember you forgot to get milk after work.

So now, here you were at the small local grocery store grabbing milk and a pint of ice cream for your troubles. The store was quiet at this hour, a few other people milling about but otherwise uneventful. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the dairy section, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. Loungewear was great for a lazy evening at home, but not exactly your first choice for public appearances.

Once you made it to the frozen section, you looked at the pints of ice cream, specifically looking for one of your favorites, Ben and Jerry’s s’mores. “Fuck.” You muttered, seeing a pint of cookie dough in the spot of the s’mores.

You angrily grabbed the cookie dough ice cream to look behind it, only to find a chunky monkey pint. With a huff, you looked at the pint of ice cream, mentally cursing your luck. Just as you were about to put it back onto the shelf, a deep voice spoke from beside you.

"Didn't figure you for a chunky monkey type."

Startled, you looked up and found Logan standing there, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was holding a six-pack of beer and a carton of eggs in one hand, the other casually resting in the pocket of his jeans.

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden appearance. "What? Oh, no, I was just... I was looking for s'mores," you explained awkwardly, holding up the ice cream like it was evidence.

He nodded, his smirk deepening a little as he glanced at the shelves. "Guess they’re out, huh?"

"Yeah, my luck tonight," you muttered, a little embarrassed to be caught standing here obsessing over ice cream in your loungewear. Not exactly how you wanted to run into the guy you were definitely not crushing on. How could you? He was the Wolverine, around 200 years old, and looked to be the age of your father. Well, if your father was still alive. Or if you ever got to know him.

Logan glanced at the shelf again and shrugged. "S'mores is overrated anyway."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment. "Oh really? What’s your go-to then, Mr. Anti-S'mores?"

He smirked, that same low, gravelly voice coming through as he responded. "Not much of an ice cream guy, but if I had to choose… probably plain vanilla. Simple. Not too sweet."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you. "Of course you'd go for the most basic flavor."

His eyebrow twitched slightly at that, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. "Sometimes simple’s the best option."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pint of vanilla. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice tonight, then. Not like I have much of a choice."

He gave you a brief nod, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there, but then Logan shifted slightly, his weight on one leg, clearly trying to mask the limp you'd noticed earlier. You weren’t sure if it was from the adamantium or something else, but it definitely wasn’t healing like it should. You found yourself biting your lip, wanting to ask but knowing better.

Instead, you went for something safer. "Laura’s doing well in class, by the way. She’s sharp. A little stubborn, but sharp."

He glanced down at you, a flicker of pride crossing his face. "Yeah, she’s a tough one." His expression softened as he added, "She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she likes you. Keeps her distance with most people."

Your heart fluttered a little at that. Laura was a bit of a mystery, rarely engaging much with the other teachers or students, so hearing that she’d let her guard down even a little with you meant more than you’d expected. "Well, she’s a good kid. I try not to push her too much."

Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you expected, like he was sizing you up in that quiet, brooding way of his. It made you feel both exposed and… oddly seen.

"Anyway," you said, breaking the silence, "I’ll let you get back to your shopping. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than stand around talking about ice cream."

He gave a small grunt that might’ve been a laugh, but it was so subtle you couldn’t be sure. "Yeah. See you around, Ms. Aberra."

"Y/N," you corrected, feeling a little awkward. "You can just call me Y/N."

He hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Y/N, then."

You gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth at the way your name sounded in his deep voice. He gave a nod before turning to leave, but as he walked away, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his retreating form. There was something about him—something rough, broken, but undeniably captivating.

---

The next morning, you pulled into the school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, still replaying your chance encounter with Logan at the grocery store. Why did it have to be the one night you went out in loungewear? If Emma ever found out, you'd never hear the end of it. You mentally braced yourself as you walked toward the building, determined to shake off any lingering thoughts about last night.

As you entered the teacher's lounge to drop off your things, Emma was already there, nursing her own cup of coffee. She spotted you immediately and raised an eyebrow.

"You look a little too chipper for a Wednesday," she teased.

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just happy to be halfway through the week."

"Uh-huh," she said, not quite convinced. "You didn't run into anyone interesting last night, did you?"

Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?

"Like who?" you asked, trying to play dumb, but Emma's smirk told you she wasn't buying it.

"Oh, I don’t know... maybe a certain rugged cowboy-looking guy with a truck?" she said, her grin widening.

You groaned. "Seriously, do you have a sixth sense or something?"

"I knew it!" Emma practically squealed. "You did run into Logan, didn’t you? Come on, spill!"

You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. "It was nothing. We just ran into each other in the frozen section, talked for, like, two seconds. That’s it."

"Uh-huh, and?" Emma leaned forward, eager for details.

"And nothing. We talked about ice cream. He said s'mores was overrated."

Emma let out a dramatic gasp. "Overrated? Now, I know he's not perfect."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Yeah, well, that's the most thrilling part of my story, so feel free to be disappointed."

Emma shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, I'm not disappointed at all. This is just the beginning."

"There's nothing to begin, Emma," you said, exasperated. "He's just another parent."

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," she said with a wink before heading out to her classroom. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again as you followed her out into the hallway.

---

The morning passed uneventfully, but Laura had been quieter than usual in your class. Not that she was typically the most talkative kid, but today she seemed more distant, even from you. She’d finished her assignments early, as usual, but spent most of the class staring out the window instead of doodling in her notebook.

During lunch, you decided to check in with her. You found her sitting by herself outside, picking at the sandwich Logan had packed for her. You approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.

"Hey, Laura," you greeted, taking a seat on the bench next to her. "Everything okay?"

She glanced at you, her expression as unreadable as always, before giving a slight shrug. "Yeah."

You studied her for a moment, noticing the way she kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact more than usual. Something was definitely off. You knew better than to push too hard, but you also didn't want her to bottle everything up.

"Well, you know if you ever want to talk, I’m here," you said gently.

She gave another shrug, but this time, her eyes flickered up to meet yours briefly. "I know."

You nodded, letting the silence settle between you. Laura wasn’t one for big emotional outbursts—at least not around you—but you had a feeling she'd talk when she was ready.

"By the way," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood, "your dad said he don’t like s'mores ice cream. Is that true, or is he just weird?"

Laura looked up at you, her lips twitching slightly like she was trying not to smile. "I like s'mores."

"Thought so," you replied with a smirk. "Well, I’m officially questioning all of your dad's taste now."

Laura didn’t laugh, but her expression softened a little, and she took another bite of her sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress. You let her finish eating in peace, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you’d at least gotten her to relax.

---

The afternoon flew by, and soon enough, the end-of-day pickup routine was in full swing. You and Emma stood outside again, watching the usual parade of parents and cars. Logan’s truck was easy to spot as it pulled up to the curb. You tried to act like you weren’t paying attention, but of course, Emma caught you glancing over.

"Still nothing, huh?" she teased under her breath.

"Shut up," you muttered, doing your best to seem disinterested.

Logan stepped out of the truck, his usual stoic expression in place as he made his way toward the school. Laura was already waiting, standing near the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw him and walked over without hesitation, but before they left, she turned back to you.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.

"See you tomorrow, Laura," you replied with a smile.

Logan gave you a nod as they walked past, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight limp in his step again. It was subtle, but there. Your curiosity piqued, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself it wasn’t your place to pry.

Emma, however, was still watching you closely. "You’re so not fooling anyone."

You shot her a look. "Seriously, get a hobby."

Emma just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, this is my hobby, Y/N. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."

As you both stood there, watching the last of the kids get picked up, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time as it drove away. Emma’s teasing was getting on your nerves, but there was a part of you that couldn’t completely dismiss what she was saying.

Maybe you were a little curious. Just a little. But you weren’t about to admit that to anyone—not even yourself.

---

Over the weekend you decided it was time to get an oil change. You weren’t going to go to ‘Mavin’s Oil Change’, not after that happened. Which is why for the past few years you’ve been doing it yourself.

It wasn’t difficult, and it was a lot cheaper, both wins in your book.

You walked around the hardware store, glancing at the shelves as you carried a new oil drain pan. You paused in front of the rows of motor oil, scanning the labels. Conventional had always worked fine for you, but maybe this time you'd splurge on the synthetic blend. It wasn't a huge decision, but it felt like a small act of treating yourself, in a way.

You were debating the pros and cons of the oil options when you heard the sound of someone walking up behind you.

"Didn’t peg you for the kind to do your own oil changes."

You turned your head and were met with Logan’s familiar gravelly voice. There he was again—of all places, he’d found you here in the auto section of the hardware store.

"Yeah, well, it's cheaper this way," you replied with a casual shrug, hoping to mask the slight surprise in your voice. You gestured to the oil in front of you. "What about you? Conventional or synthetic blend?"

Logan glanced at the shelf, then back at you. "Conventional. Gets the job done."

"Figures." You grinned a little, grabbing the conventional oil off the shelf. "Guess I’ll stick with what I know too, then."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but there was a hint of amusement behind his usual stoic demeanor. "Figured you’d be one to overthink it. Synthetic’s not all it’s cracked up to be."

You chuckled. "I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Oil Expert."

He grunted in response, grabbing something off the shelf for himself. For a moment, you both stood there, surrounded by tools and motor oil, neither of you saying much. It was kind of nice—quiet, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected.

You shifted, holding the oil pan in your hands. "So, is Laura doing anything fun this weekend?"

Logan glanced at you, his face softening slightly at the mention of his daughter. "Not much. She likes to keep busy, but… this town ain’t exactly got a lot going on."

"True," you nodded, biting your lip as you tried to think of something. "She could come by and help me out with my garden, if she’s interested. I know she likes plants."

Logan looked at you, a little longer than usual, and you wondered if you’d crossed some kind of line offering something so personal. But then he nodded. "She’d probably like that."

"Cool," you said, feeling oddly relieved that you hadn’t messed up. "Let me know if she wants to. I could use an extra set of hands."

He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on you again for a second before he turned his attention back to the shelf. There was that same weight to his gaze, like he was always sizing things up, figuring people out.

"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. First the grocery store, now here. Should I be worried?"

Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Pretty sure it’s the other way around."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I’m just a simple schoolteacher who likes ice cream and doing her own oil changes. Hardly the stalking type."

"Sure," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly into what could almost be considered a smile.

You felt your own lips tugging into a grin, and for a moment, it felt easier. Logan wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to, but something about these small, random moments with him made you feel more at ease than you expected.

"Well, good luck with your oil change," he said, turning to head down another aisle. "Maybe see you around."

"Yeah, see you around," you replied, watching him walk away before you continued shopping, a strange warmth lingering in your chest.

As you walked toward the checkout, you couldn’t help but think back on how natural it felt, just talking to him. There wasn’t any awkwardness or forced conversation—just two people running into each other at the hardware store. Nothing to overthink. Except, maybe, the fact that you were starting to like these encounters more than you’d like to admit.

---

Logan blew out a breath of his cigar smoke. Laura said she didn’t like it when he smoked inside so he started doing it outside on the porch.

A small added bonus was seeing you, a few houses down, across the street, currently underneath your car getting the oil to drain.

The door opened and shut behind him as Laura stepped out, “ella te gusta,” she said softly.

He let out a huff, “kid, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura let out her own huff, sitting down next to Logan’s chair with her sketchbook, flipping it open. She didn’t say anything for a while, just started sketching in that intense, quiet way she had. Logan leaned back, puffing on his cigar, watching the smoke curl up into the air.

He caught himself glancing back across the street, where you were still working under your car. Laura's earlier comment lingered in his mind, even if he pretended not to know what it meant.

After a few minutes of silence, Laura looked up from her drawing. “You should go help her.”

Logan snorted, taking another puff of his cigar. “She’s fine. Knows what she’s doin’.”

Laura raised an eyebrow at him, her expression skeptical. “You’re always saying people shouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that alone. What if something happens?”

“Yeah, but she’s not helpless,” he grunted, though there was something in his tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

Laura shrugged and went back to her sketch. “Still think you should.”

Logan glanced at her, then back at you. You were sliding out from under the car, wiping your hands on your jeans, looking like you’d handled it just fine. He grunted again, though this time it was more to himself.

“What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Laura held up her sketchbook, showing him a detailed drawing of a plant—a vine with thorns twisting around a branch. It reminded him of your garden, something about the way the plants seemed to grow wild but still had a certain beauty to them.

“That for Ms. Aberra?” Logan asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Laura shot him a knowing look.

“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. “She likes plants. Thought she’d like this.”

Logan just nodded, staying quiet. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation with an eleven-year-old about why he’d noticed things about your garden or how you seemed to have a way with plants. That wasn’t his style.

“Why don’t you go show her?” Logan suggested, nodding toward you as you gathered up your tools.

Laura seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head. “Maybe later. She’s busy.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push it. He knew better than to try and make Laura do something if she wasn’t in the mood. The kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Though he supposes it was his fault.

A teenage girl who was walking a dog, a tan pit bull, stopped in front of your driveway, the dog happily wagging its tail as it patiently waited for you to say hello.

You were still wiping the oil off your hands when you noticed the pair. "Hey, there.” You smiled as you crouched down to greet Juno, who leaned eagerly into your hand, her tail wagging excitedly. "How are you, Juno?" you cooed, giving the pit bull a good scratch behind the ears.

The teenage girl holding the leash smiled politely. “She’s been dying to see you again,” she said, giving the leash a little slack so the dog could get closer.

"Well, I’m always happy to see her." You grinned as the dog nudged your leg, clearly wanting more attention. "Been a busy evening?”

The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but Juno here makes it better. You know how it is.”

You nodded. "Definitely. Plants are my version of Juno. Or baking, it’s hard to decide.”

The girl chuckled lightly before glancing at the car behind you. “Doing your own oil change?”

"Yep," you said, standing up and wiping your hands again on the rag. "Easier and cheaper than going to a shop."

She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I wouldn’t even know where to start."

“You’d be surprised how easy it is. YouTube tutorials, mostly,” you said, shrugging as you wiped your hands on the rag.

The girl smiled. "I might have to try that next time. If I don’t mess up my car in the process.”

You laughed. "That’s what the tutorials are for. But yeah, it’s not too bad. You’d get the hang of it."

As you chatted with the girl for a bit longer, Juno continued to happily soak up the attention. You scratched behind her ears one more time before standing up straight. “Well, good luck with the rest of your walk. Always nice seeing you two.”

“Same here,” the girl replied, tugging gently on Juno’s leash. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get home.”

You waved as they continued down the street, Juno looking back at you with her tail wagging. With a satisfied sigh, you turned back to finish cleaning up, putting away the oil pan and bottles of motor oil.

Across the street, Logan puffed his cigar, watching as you gathered your tools and wiped your hands one more time. Laura had gone back to her sketching, though every now and then she’d glance up at him with that same look.

“She’s done now,” Laura said after a moment, still sketching.

“I can see that,” Logan grumbled, tapping ash off the end of his cigar.

“Still think you should go help,” she added, not even bothering to look up this time.

Logan huffed, staring at you as you double-checked your work and began packing up. He didn’t need to help—you were obviously handling everything just fine. But still, there was something about the way you worked so methodically, so determined. You’d done it all yourself, like you didn’t need anyone’s help. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling, though, that maybe he wanted to offer it anyway.

“Kid, you sure know how to push buttons,” he muttered under his breath.

Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.

Logan grumbled to himself for a moment longer before standing up from his chair, tapping out the last of his cigar in the ashtray. “Stay here.”

He walked across the street toward your driveway, hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes set on you as you knelt by the toolbox, sorting through the remaining tools.

“You done already?” he called out, making his presence known.

You glanced up, not expecting to see him again so soon. “Yeah, just finished up,” you replied, standing up and wiping your hands on the rag again. “What about you? Something break down?”

“Nah, just figured I’d see if you needed any help,” he said, his tone casual, though you could tell it wasn’t exactly his style to offer assistance without a reason.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “You offering to help after the job’s already done?”

"Guess I am," Logan replied with a hint of a smirk, his eyes not quite meeting yours.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Next time, I’ll be sure to save the hardest part for you."

"Yeah, you do that," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He shifted his weight slightly, glancing over at the now-finished oil change. "You do this kind of thing often? Or just the oil changes?"

"Mostly just the oil changes," you admitted, as you leaned in closer like you were telling a secret. “I went on a few dates with Mavin’s son the first few months I was here and didn’t go over well. Now he overcharges me.” You held up your hands, “but if it’s something complicated, I promise I drive 30 minutes to the city to get it checked out.”

Logan's eyes flickered with interest, the corners of his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile. "That right? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Mavin's a bit of a jerk."

You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, he wasn't thrilled about me ghosting his son, that's for sure. But hey, I learned how to change my own oil, so I guess something good came out of it."

Logan grunted in agreement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't say much after that, his eyes lingering on you as if he were trying to piece together something that didn't quite fit. You had a feeling he wasn't used to people like you—people who seemed to find their way into his life, one way or another.

"Well," you said, breaking the silence, "thanks for the offer, even if the job’s already done." You smiled, a little uncertain about what to do next. "Guess I'll see you around."

He nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Laura likes you, you know."

That caught you off guard. "Oh," you replied, a bit flustered. "Well, I like her too. She's a good kid. Smart, but... you already know that."

"Yeah," Logan muttered, his voice softer than usual. "She doesn’t open up to many people. But you... you’re different."

You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you just nodded, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest. "I’m glad she feels comfortable around me. She’s been through a lot."

Logan's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "More than most," he agreed, his voice rough with something that sounded a lot like guilt.

You wanted to reach out, to say something that might make him feel better, but words failed you. So instead, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, not awkward but charged with something unspoken.

"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the heavy moment. "If you ever need help with the car, you know where to find me. Or Laura."

You smiled, feeling that warmth again. "I’ll keep that in mind. And if you two ever need help with, I don’t know, math homework or... anything else, you know where to find me."

He nodded, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Noted."

You watched as he turned to leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. As he walked back toward his house, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something more than just friendly encounters at the store.

---

During lunch, you sat in your classroom, enjoying 30 minutes of peace and quiet before the kids came back into the room. The soft hum of the heater filled the space, making the room feel warmer than usual as you flipped through the stack of quizzes you needed to grade. The formulas and diagrams were a blur as your mind drifted back to the weekend, specifically to Logan.

The way he’d offered to help with your oil change, the quiet moments that had followed—it was so unlike him. Or maybe, you realized, you just didn’t know him well enough yet. Either way, something about it had left you feeling... something.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, that cheeky grin on her face.

“So,” she started, stepping inside your classroom. “I hear you’re making friends with a certain someone across the street.”

You rolled your eyes, setting down the quiz you’d been half-grading. “I’m not ‘making friends.’ We just happen to run into each other.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mhm. Sure. Totally normal for him to come help with your oil change, right?”

"My God, how do you know?" you asked, eyes widening in disbelief as you sat back in your chair.

Emma smirked, leaning against the doorway like she had all the time in the world. "Small town. You know how people talk." She paused, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides, you’re not exactly subtle. Logan? The gruff guy across the street? It’s hard to miss that you two have been... running into each other more than usual."

You sighed, rubbing your temple. "It’s not like that. He just offered to help with my car, and Laura—"

Emma’s grin widened. "Ah, Laura. That’s the key, isn’t it? I’ve seen how she looks at you. That kid doesn’t warm up to just anyone. She’s a little... prickly, but with you? She’s different."

"She’s a good kid," you said, trying to deflect. "She’s been through a lot, you know? I just think she needs someone to talk to. Someone who’s not... intimidating."

"Sure, sure," Emma teased, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of one of the desks. "But you can’t tell me there isn’t something more going on between you and Logan. I mean, come on. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘friendly neighbor’ type. More like ‘leave me alone or I’ll stab you with my claws’ type."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Okay, yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers. But it’s not like we’re... you know, it’s just—"

"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.

"Friendly," you corrected quickly, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "It’s just friendly. He’s Laura’s dad, and we’ve talked a few times, but that’s it."

Emma gave you a knowing look. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of England."

You groaned, pushing your quizzes aside. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"

"Because," Emma said with a shrug, "it’s about time you had a little fun in this town. You spend all your time either at school or working on that garden of yours. You deserve to have a life outside of grading papers and pulling weeds."

"I have a life," you protested.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? And when was the last time you went on a date?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, realizing you didn’t have a good answer. "Okay, fine," you admitted, "it’s been a while. But that doesn’t mean—"

"Exactly my point," Emma interrupted, flashing a triumphant grin. "Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But Logan? He’s clearly interested. And I think you are too."

"Okay… even if I was interested, I’m pretty sure a guy like that doesn’t have dating or relationships on his mind. Especially with someone like me." You leaned back in your chair, feeling a mix of frustration and doubt.

Emma gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Someone like you? Come on, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart, funny, and clearly, Logan thinks you’re worth his time. He’s not just helping anyone with an oil change, believe me."

You sighed, crossing your arms. "It’s not that simple. You know what he’s been through. And Laura... she’s been through so much already. I’m not about to mess with their lives."

Emma smirked, tapping her fingers on the desk. "Mess with their lives? Or make their lives better? Laura clearly likes you, Y/N. She’s practically glued to your side when you’re around. And Logan? He’s different with you. I see it."

You frowned, picking up a pen and twirling it between your fingers. "Laura’s nice to me, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s indifferent to most of the other teachers, and she barely talks in class. I don’t even know if she likes me, or if it’s just... I don’t know."

"She doesn’t warm up to just anyone," Emma pointed out. "You’re different. She looks at you like she trusts you, and Logan trusts you too, whether he shows it or not. That’s not something that happens often with them. They’re... well, guarded, for obvious reasons."

You were quiet for a moment, thinking about Laura. It was true—she was quiet, distant with others, but with you? There was something different. She’d even started staying after class sometimes, just sitting there while you graded papers or prepped for the next lesson. And Logan? He was always nearby, watching, but never intruding.

Still, the idea of anything happening between you and Logan felt... complicated. "Even if he did trust me, it’s not like he’s the type to be thinking about relationships. The man’s got enough on his plate. And me? I’ve got work, and... I’m not exactly relationship material."

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "Please, Y/N. If anyone deserves a chance at something real, it’s you. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else—your students, your job. Maybe it’s time to let someone take care of you for a change."

You looked at her, skeptical. "You think Logan is the type to 'take care of' someone?"

She smirked. "He already is. He’s just doing it in his own way. And trust me, the way he looks at you? There’s more there than you realize. You just have to stop overthinking it."

Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Emma stood up, giving you one last knowing smile before heading for the door. "Just think about it, Y/N. Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."

You watched her go, your mind still swirling with doubt and a tiny sliver of hope. Could there really be something more between you and Logan? Or was it just your imagination?

As your students started filing back into the room, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the rest of the day. But even as you taught your lessons and graded papers, Logan lingered in the back of your mind.

---

Later that evening, you found yourself in the garden, pulling weeds and trying to clear your head. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the small town. You liked this time of day—the quiet, the calm.

Just as you were settling into the rhythm of pulling weeds, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Logan standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Need any help?" he asked, his gruff voice breaking the silence.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, with the garden? I’m just pulling weeds."

He shrugged, stepping closer. "Doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands."

You smiled, feeling a bit awkward but oddly touched by the offer. "Sure, if you’re up for it."

Logan crouched down next to you, pulling at the weeds without saying much. The two of you worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the rustling of plants and the distant hum of traffic.

Eventually, you spoke up, trying to break the tension. "So... Laura’s been doing well in class. She’s quiet, but I think she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? That’s good to hear. She doesn’t talk much at home either."

"She’s a smart kid," you added, pulling another weed. "But I think... she could use someone to talk to. Someone she feels safe with."

Logan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "She’s been through a lot. Trust doesn’t come easy for her."

You hesitated, then asked, "What about you? Do you feel safe here?"

He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. "Safer than I’ve felt in a long time."

That simple admission hit you harder than you expected. Logan, this gruff, guarded man, was letting his walls down, even just a little. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

"That’s good," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. "I’m glad."

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan’s presence was grounding, solid in a way that made you feel... safe too.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I appreciate what you’ve done for Laura. She doesn’t trust many people, but with you... it’s different."

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I’m just doing my job. She’s a good kid, like I said."

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "It’s more than that. She trusts you. And... so do I."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There was something unspoken in the air between you, something neither of you was ready to address. But it was there, simmering just below the surface.

"Logan, I—"

Before you could finish, he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it."

You stood up too, feeling the weight of what was left unsaid hanging in the air. "Thanks for the help."

He gave a brief nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to leave. "Anytime."

As you watched him walk away, your heart was pounding in your chest. There was no denying it now—there was something between you and Logan. Something real. And it scared you just as much as it excited you.

---

Parent-teacher conferences always stressed you out. Gathering all your students’ information, organizing it all, it was hectic and unreasonable. You couldn’t understand why an email didn’t suffice.

Possibly the worst thing about it is the fact it took place in the school gym, which had no AC. The heat was almost unbearable, making your clothes stick to your skin as you shuffled through your notes, waiting for the next parent to arrive to your table.

The gym was packed, parents and their kids moving between tables as they talked to teachers, making the already stifling room feel even hotter. You fanned yourself with the stack of notes you’d organized earlier, feeling sweat prickle at your back.

You glanced at your list of appointments, sighing when you saw who was next: Logan. You hadn't expected him to come. Laura was doing well enough in your class, but she wasn’t exactly the type to care about grades. You figured Logan would be the same—practical, but not overly concerned about school meetings.

You straightened up, glancing around to see him approaching with Laura by his side. She looked slightly uncomfortable, her arms crossed and her gaze focused anywhere but the gym, while Logan was, well... Logan. His expression was gruff, unreadable as usual, but there was something in his eyes that softened when he saw you.

“Ms. Aberra,” Logan greeted as he reached your table, giving you a nod.

“Logan,” you said, smiling at Laura. “And Laura. How are you two doing?”

Laura shrugged, barely meeting your gaze. Logan pulled out the chair for her, and she reluctantly sat down, still quiet. He stayed standing, leaning on the back of the chair, watching you with that familiar intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Laura’s doing fine in class. Really, there’s not much to talk about.”

Logan glanced at Laura, then back at you. “Figured I’d come by anyway. See how things are goin’.”

You nodded, pulling up Laura’s grades on your tablet. “Well, like I said, she’s doing great. She’s one of the best in the class, actually. Quiet, but I can tell she’s always thinking.”

Laura’s face remained impassive, but there was the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

“She’s got potential,” you continued, looking at Logan. “Especially in science. I think she’d be great at anything she wanted to do, honestly.”

Logan grunted in response, but there was a proud glint in his eye. “That’s good to hear.”

Laura finally spoke up, her voice quiet but clear. “I like science. And math.”

You smiled, surprised by her willingness to engage. “Well, you’re really good at it. I was thinking, if you ever wanted, there are some extracurriculars coming up. Science club, math competitions—stuff like that. It might be fun.”

Laura glanced at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Up to you, kid.”

She seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Maybe.”

“Well, no pressure,” you said, trying to keep it casual. “You can always decide later.”

There was an awkward pause as you flipped through the rest of Laura’s grades, though there wasn’t much else to say. She was excelling, especially considering her background. You couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her, knowing what she’d been through.

“So, uh, anything else you need to know?” you asked, looking back up at Logan.

He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, make sure she’s on track.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth in his words even if he didn’t show it. “She’s doing great. Really.”

Logan gave you a brief nod, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary before he straightened up. “Thanks.”

You watched as he turned to Laura, ready to leave, but she didn’t stand just yet. Instead, she glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowed slightly like she was piecing something together.

“Are you... friends?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise of the gym.

You blinked, taken aback by the question. Logan seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly recovered.

“Well,” you said slowly, glancing at Logan for a cue. “I guess you could say that.”

Logan cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

Laura’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t quite believe it but wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”

She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she started toward the exit. Logan hesitated for a moment, giving you one last look before following her. “See you around,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You watched them go, feeling that strange mix of emotions again—the warmth, the uncertainty, the possibility of something more. As the door closed behind them, you realized that, for once, you didn’t mind the heat. It was a small town, and people noticed everything. But you were starting to wonder if maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Laura grabbed his hand as they exited the gym, having already seen her other teachers. She looked up at Logan, as he stared straight ahead at the truck in the parking lot. “Creo que ella te gusta.”

He let out a huff, “kid, don’t know how many times I gotta say it, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura gave him a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by his response. "You should learn," she muttered under her breath, squeezing his hand as they reached the truck.

Logan grunted as he fumbled for the keys, a slight wince crossing his features as he slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Laura, who was already buckling herself in without a word. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy either.

He turned the key in the ignition, the truck sputtering to life as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mind wandered back to the parent-teacher conference, and specifically to Y/N. She’d always been good with Laura, he could see that. But lately, something about her seemed to calm him too—a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know how to handle.

“You like her,” Laura said, breaking the silence with her blunt observation. It wasn’t a question.

Logan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s a good teacher. You like her, too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You act different when she’s around. You don’t growl as much.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “I don’t growl.”

“Yes, you do,” Laura said, looking out the window. “But not at her.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the road, trying to push away the thoughts circling in his mind. He wasn’t a man used to... feelings, especially not ones that left him unsure. But Y/N had a way of sneaking under his defenses, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit.

“I like her,” Laura said quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Logan glanced at her, surprised by the soft admission. Laura didn’t trust people easily, and she certainly didn’t like many. But her words carried weight, especially to him.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Laura nodded, still looking out the window. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t treat me like I’m different.”

Logan felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the relief of knowing Laura had found someone she trusted, or maybe it was the way Y/N had already become a part of their lives, without him even realizing it. Either way, he didn’t say anything more, just drove the rest of the way home in silence, lost in his own thoughts.

---

The next morning, you thanked the stars that it was Saturday. You were exhausted from the large amount of human interaction last night and decided to sleep in a bit before tending to the garden.

After that, and taking a shower, you slipped into comfortable clothes, some small shorts and a large t-shirt that covered the shorts, since it only getting warmer outside.

Even with that said, you couldn’t help but crave chocolate chip cookies, thanking the stars once again that you had all the ingredients.

You turned on the oven, allowing it to pre-heat, as you grabbed a mixing bowl and walked around your small kitchen looking for the ingredients listed on your worn-out piece of paper. You still hadn’t memorized the recipe after making it for years.

The doorbell ringed as you poked your head out the side of your kitchen. When you answered it, you were pleasantly surprised to find Laura outside, wearing what you could only describe as a cute grey shirt with a colorful bear on it. You’d never say it to her, she’d probably leave if you said she looked cute.

“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”

“Daddy said I could help with the garden.” She spoke softly.

“Oof, sorry kiddo. Already did it this morning.” You looked back inside your house before turning back to Laura, “though, I could use some help making cookies.”

Laura hesitated for a second, her dark eyes studying you as if trying to decide whether this was worth her time. You were still getting used to her quiet, guarded nature, but you’d learned quickly that she was different around you compared to other people. It was like you had some sort of unspoken understanding, even if you didn’t fully get why.

“Okay,” she finally said, stepping past you into the house.

You closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a second mixing bowl. “You ever make cookies before?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.

Laura shook her head, standing by the counter as she watched you.

“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m about to show you the magic of sugar, butter, and chocolate chips.” You grinned as you started measuring out the ingredients. “Can you hand me the brown sugar?”

She scanned the countertop before reaching for the brown sugar, silently passing it to you. You got the feeling she wasn’t used to this kind of thing—normal, mundane stuff like baking cookies on a lazy Saturday. Not that you knew her whole story or anything, but you’d heard enough about Logan and his complicated life to guess Laura hadn’t had a typical upbringing.

As you started mixing the butter and sugar together, you tried to think of something to say. Conversations with Laura could be tricky; she wasn’t the chatty type, and you didn’t want to push her too much.

“So,” you started, keeping your tone casual, “what’s Logan up to today?”

She shrugged. “Resting.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Logan resting was a good thing. You knew he’d been having a rough time lately with his health, even though he wasn’t the type to admit it. You figured he was just being stubborn, refusing to slow down even though it was clear his healing wasn’t what it used to be.

Laura remained silent, watching as you added the flour to the mix.

“You wanna stir?” you asked, offering her the spatula.

She looked at it for a moment before stepping closer and taking it from you. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the task.

“Nice job,” you said, giving her a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a future in cookie-making, I can tell.”

Laura didn’t react much, but you swore you saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

As she stirred, you reached for the chocolate chips. “Best part of making cookies—sneaking a few of these before they go in the dough.” You tossed a couple into your mouth, then held the bag out to her.

She paused, looking at the chocolate chips like she wasn’t sure what to do. After a second, she picked one up and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.

You chuckled. “See? Told you it’s the best part.”

Laura kept stirring the dough while you got the baking sheets ready. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Laura wasn’t the type of kid who needed constant conversation, and you appreciated that about her.

As she worked, you glanced at her again, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. You didn’t know what exactly she’d been through, but whatever it was, you could tell it had shaped her into someone far older than her years.

When the dough was ready, you started scooping it onto the trays. “Almost done,” you said. “Then it’s just a waiting game while they bake.”

Laura nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she watched you.

You slid the trays into the oven and set the timer before turning back to her. “You want some water or anything while we wait?”

She shook her head, her eyes still on the oven like she was trying to figure out why people made such a big deal out of cookies.

“Well, I’m grabbing a drink.” You poured yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you sipped. “It’ll take around 12 minutes for them to finish. Then we put in another batch, and another until the dough has all been used.”

Laura gave a small nod, her eyes still focused on the oven. It was like she was trying to figure out if all this waiting was actually worth it.

You studied her for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She never really said much, but it was clear there was a lot happening behind those dark, watchful eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why she’d taken to you, but you were grateful for it. Laura didn’t let many people in, that much was obvious.

“I can show you a movie. Or maybe some music? I usually play somethin’ while I wait.”

Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Music,” she said quietly.

You smiled, glad she was at least open to that. “Cool. Let’s see what we got.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your playlist, landing on something mellow, nothing too upbeat or distracting. You hit play, letting the soft sounds of a guitar fill the room.

Laura leaned against the counter, listening, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t fidgety or impatient, just quiet, like she was absorbing everything around her.

You took another sip of water, watching her from the corner of your eye. “You ever help Logan with stuff like this? Like cooking?”

She shook her head. “No.”

You figured as much. “Well, if he ever asks, you’ll be a pro now.” You winked at her, earning the tiniest of shrugs in return.

You both stood there in a comfortable silence, letting the music play. It wasn’t awkward, just… peaceful. The smell of the cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was easy to forget all the heavy stuff hanging in the air—Logan’s health, Laura’s past, whatever weight she carried that you didn’t fully understand yet.

After a few minutes, Laura spoke up. “I talked to Logan about you… last night.”

You paused, surprised she’d bring it up. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”

She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the oven. “He said you’re... different from other people. In a good way.”

A warmth crept into your chest at that. “Well, that’s nice of him to say. I think he’s pretty different too, you know. In a good way.”

Laura looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He likes you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was something in the way she said it, like it was a fact she was still processing.

You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah? Well… I like him too.”

She stared at you for a moment longer before nodding slowly, like she was piecing something together in her head. “He doesn’t trust people. But he trusts you.”

You swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I’m glad he does. I mean… I care about him, Laura. And you too.”

Laura’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe something else you couldn’t quite name. She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked down at the floor.

Before the silence could stretch too long, the oven timer beeped, cutting through the moment.

“Cookies are done,” you said, turning to grab the oven mitts. You pulled the trays out, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was even stronger now, warm and sweet, filling the entire kitchen. “Wanna taste test one?”

Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.

You carefully lifted a cookie from the tray, holding it out to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

She took it, blowing on it before taking a small bite. You watched as she chewed, her face still neutral, but you could tell she liked it.

“Good, right?” you asked, biting into one yourself.

Laura nodded again, chewing slowly. For a split second, you thought you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

As you both stood there, munching on cookies, the air felt lighter, like some kind of invisible barrier between you had shifted just a little. You didn’t know all of Laura’s story, but you didn’t need to. What mattered was that she was here, sharing this small moment with you, and that was enough.

“So,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “What should we do next? More cookies? Or maybe try out that movie?”

Laura looked at the remaining dough, then back at you. “More cookies.”

You grinned. “Good choice. Let’s make this batch even better.”

---

After all the cookies came out of the oven, you sent Laura home with a container of some of the batch. You could never eat them all on your own, and you ended up giving some away anyways, so why not give some to Laura?

You walked Laura to your front door and watched as she crossed the street, her figure disappearing behind the door three houses down. There was always something surreal about the way she moved—so quiet, so controlled, like she had learned to blend into the background. It made you wonder what her life had been like before coming here.

When Laura walked in, the container held tightly to her chest, Logan sat on the couch, the soft murmur of the TV barely audible as he sipped from a whiskey bottle. His eyes flicked over to her as the door clicked shut behind her.

“You were gone a while,” he muttered, his voice rough but not harsh.

Laura shrugged, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Made cookies.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, watching her disappear from view. The faint clinking of a container hitting the counter reached his ears. He knew she didn’t do stuff like this unless someone dragged her into it. “With Y/N?” he asked, taking another sip.

Laura reappeared, nodding as she plopped down beside him on the couch, the container of cookies now on the coffee table.

Logan stared at it for a moment, then gave a small grunt of approval. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the container, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness that felt out of place in his usual world of bitterness and whiskey.

“Not bad,” he muttered, glancing at Laura. “You help with these?”

She shrugged again, still watching the TV, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.

“Hmm,” he grunted, leaning back. “Maybe next time, you can bring some whiskey to wash ‘em down.”

Laura didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly as if she was trying not to.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the low hum of the TV filling the room. Logan’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He didn’t trust people easily—never had, and probably never would. But Y/N was different. He’d seen how she handled Laura, how she didn’t push too hard or ask too many questions. And she was patient, something Logan knew he didn’t have much of.

“Y/N’s a good one,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Laura didn’t say anything, but she shifted slightly, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

Logan watched her for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He knew settling down wasn’t really in his nature, but for Laura’s sake—and maybe a bit for his own—he was trying. And Y/N? She made that easier, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“She ask about me?” Logan asked, more curious than he wanted to let on.

Laura nodded, her eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. I told her you were resting.”

Logan snorted. “Resting. That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Laura didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t push further. He knew what Y/N probably thought—that he was just some grumpy guy with a limp, maybe a few too many scars for comfort. She didn’t know the half of it. But she didn’t pry either, and for that, he was grateful.

“Guess I’ll have to thank her for the cookies,” Logan said after a while, taking another sip from the bottle. His mind wandered to the thought of Y/N—the way she smiled when she was around Laura, how she always seemed to have the right balance of patience and understanding. It wasn’t just anyone who could handle a kid like Laura, let alone make her feel comfortable enough to bake cookies on a Saturday.

“She likes you too, you know,” Laura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Y/N,” Laura clarified, her tone as flat as ever. “She likes you.”

Logan chuckled, though there was a bit of discomfort behind it. “You don’t know that, kid.”

Laura looked at him, her gaze piercing and a little too wise for someone her age. “She does. I can tell.”

Logan stared back at her, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact she sounded. It was hard to argue with Laura when she had that look on her face, the same look that said she saw through everything and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well… that’s her problem, not mine.”

Laura didn’t react, just turned back to the TV. But Logan could feel her eyes on him for a few seconds longer before she settled back into the cushions.

Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Laura’s words hanging in the air. He wasn’t used to people ‘liking’ him in the way Laura seemed to imply. People tolerated him, sure, maybe even respected him, but liking him? That was new territory.

He let out a sigh and reached for another cookie. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not right now.

But even as he chewed in silence, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N—and what it might mean if Laura was right.

---

A few days later, you found yourself at Logan’s house helping Laura with some of her English homework. You usually don’t make ‘house calls’ to help students, but you couldn’t deny Laura.

Logan stayed seated in the living room, drinking a beer and watching the TV. But really, he was pretending not to listen to their conversation in the kitchen.

“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.

Laura shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Logan in the living room. “Can you stay for dinner?” She asked you.

Logan’s head snapped up at that. He hadn’t expected Laura to ask, but there was no denying that the kid had gotten attached to you. Before you could answer, Laura added, “I made something. With Logan.”

That was a lie, of course. Laura had barely touched the stove since the cookies, but she gave Logan a look that told him to back her up.

Y/N smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” She glanced at Logan. “If that’s okay?”

Logan grunted, shifting his weight. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Laura gave a small nod, clearly satisfied with the answer. You smiled, pushing the papers aside. “Guess I’m staying for dinner, then.”

Logan shot Laura a look, one that said what exactly are we eating? but she ignored him, turning her attention back to you. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, which wasn’t reassuring.

“Well, I’m excited. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it,” you joked, standing up to stretch your arms.

Logan watched you from the corner of his eye as he sat back down on the couch, pretending to be more interested in the muted TV than he actually was. You couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed a little tenser whenever you were around, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He was trying to stay low-key, but you could tell he was keeping tabs on every move you made, every word you said.

“So, what’s on the menu?” you asked, trying to ease the quiet that had settled over the room.

Laura, sitting across from you, didn’t answer right away, like she was carefully considering her next move. Logan’s eyes flicked over to her, waiting for her response.

“Spaghetti,” she finally said, her voice as flat as ever.

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh yeah? Sounds good.”

Logan gave a low grunt from the couch, and you could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out when they’d supposedly made spaghetti. But he didn’t contradict Laura, just took another swig from his beer.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, standing up from the kitchen table. “Let me know if you need any help.”

Laura didn’t say anything, just headed to the stove where a pot of water was already simmering. You followed her, glancing at the nearly-empty box of spaghetti on the counter. It was clear she hadn’t done this a lot, but the effort was what mattered. And if it meant spending more time with her—and Logan—you weren’t about to complain.

“I’ll get the sauce going,” you offered, stepping beside her. Laura gave you a slight nod, sliding over to make room.

Logan watched from the couch, his eyes narrowing as if he was weighing the situation. He hadn’t expected you to just roll with it, but then again, you always had a way of adapting.

“So, how’s school?” you asked Laura, trying to keep the conversation light while you opened the jar of sauce.

“It’s fine,” she said, her tone noncommittal.

You stirred the sauce, giving a little shrug. “Well, if you ever need help with any other type of homework, you know where to find me.”

She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes softened for a second. “I know.”

The two of you worked in quiet sync, with Laura focusing on the pasta and you keeping an eye on the sauce. It wasn’t long before the kitchen started to smell of tomatoes and garlic, the scent filling the air and making the small space feel cozy. For a while, the only sounds were the bubbling pot and the clinking of utensils.

Logan shifted on the couch, clearing his throat. “Need me to do anything?”

You glanced back at him with a smile. “Just sit there and look pretty, Logan. We’ve got this.”

A low chuckle escaped him, though his face didn’t change much. “That so?”

Laura glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, but you caught the briefest hint of approval in her eyes before she turned back to stirring the pasta.

Once everything was ready, you and Laura brought the food to the small dining table. You plated up the spaghetti, topping it with sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. Logan joined you both, moving slower than he probably realized, and sat down with a grunt.

As you all ate, the room stayed comfortably quiet. It wasn’t one of those forced silences that felt awkward—it was more like everyone was just settling into the moment. Laura was still guarded, but you could tell she was starting to relax, even if it was just a little.

“You did good, Laura,” you said, twirling some spaghetti on your fork. “This tastes great.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept eating, but you saw her shoulders ease up ever so slightly.

Logan, on the other hand, glanced between the two of you, chewing slowly. He hadn’t been big on cooking or anything domestic like this, but he could tell Laura had put in effort. He took another bite, grunting his approval. “Not bad,” he said quietly.

You smiled to yourself. This whole thing wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for the evening, but it was nice in its own way—just simple, like normal people having dinner together.

As you were finishing up, Logan pushed his chair back, grabbing his beer bottle from the table. “I’ll handle the cleanup,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You raised an eyebrow, standing to gather a few plates. “You sure?”

Logan waved you off. “Yeah. Laura and I got it.”

You nodded, stepping back. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”

Laura watched you quietly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Logan. You could tell she wasn’t used to this kind of thing, the casual ease of sharing a meal and cleaning up afterward. But she was learning, and it seemed like she didn’t mind having you around for it.

“Well,” you said, grabbing your bag from the chair. “Thanks for dinner, you two. I’ll see you around?”

Logan grunted in acknowledgment, giving you a nod. Laura followed you to the door, her small figure standing by your side as you reached for the handle.

Before you could leave, she spoke up. “Will you come over again?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”

She nodded, her face still unreadable, but there was a certain calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.

You gave her a little wave before stepping out into the evening air. As you walked back to your house, you couldn’t help but think about how unexpected this had all been.

---

You muttered to yourself, hanging up the phone. Your sink had started to leak, and even though you were fairly handy, when you tightened the pipes, it did nothing.

So here you were, on your lunch break, looking for a handyman that didn’t want to charge you $200 for a quick fix.

Emma walked in, holding a folder with her lesson plans. “So…”

You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”

“What! I’ve told you, word travels fast. Rose saw you leavin’ his house last night.”

“Rose?” You shook your head, “that woman is 85 and still gossips like she’s 20.” You put your phone down, “I was helping Laura with her English homework.”

"Helping Laura with her English homework?" Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You mean, at ten o'clock at night? Sure, Y/N."

You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “It wasn’t like that. She’s struggling with some of the writing prompts, and Logan’s... well, you know he’s not exactly the best person for that.”

“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded slowly, setting her folder down. “I’m just saying, you and him… there’s something there. You can deny it all you want, but people see things.”

“People need hobbies,” you muttered. “Besides, Logan’s... complicated. It’s not that simple.”

“I’m not saying it is,” she shrugged. “But you’ve been spending more and more time with him and Laura lately. I’m just curious.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Curious about what, exactly?”

“Just curious when you're going to admit you like him,” Emma smirked.

“I don’t—" you started to argue, but stopped yourself. “Emma, he’s… I mean, I care about him, but it’s not like that. He’s a single dad with a kid, and I’m just the neighbor who helps out sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure, Y/N.” Emma grabbed her folder and gave you a pointed look, “if you don’t make a move, someone on the ‘Wolverine Watchers’ will.”

You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip of, “the what?”

Emma grinned, “the ‘Wolverine Watchers’. A bunch of women in the town created a Facebook group about him. I joined out of curiosity.”

You blinked at Emma, still processing what she’d just said. “Hold on—there’s a Facebook group about Logan? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Emma said with a smug smile. “They call themselves the ‘Wolverine Watchers.’ There’s, like, at least 30 women in it. Maybe more.”

You shook your head in disbelief, sinking back into your chair. “That’s insane. Why would anyone even...”

“Oh, please,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. He’s rugged, mysterious, barely speaks to anyone, and he’s got the whole grumpy-silver-fox thing going on. They eat it up. Hell, even I get it.”

You glared at her. “You’re not helping.”

She leaned against the desk, still grinning. “Just saying, don’t wait too long, or one of them might swoop in.”

You waved her off, though a part of you felt oddly defensive about the whole thing. “Logan’s not interested in any of that.”

Emma shrugged, pushing off the desk and heading for the door. “Maybe. Maybe not. But are you interested?”

You opened your mouth to respond before shaking your head. “Okay. I’m going to forget this part of our conversation and continue to try and look for a plumber or handyman.”

Emma laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Fine, fine. But if you need help with Logan or plumbing, you know where to find me.”

She left the room at the same time Laura walked in. She walked over to the front of your desk and stared at you with those eyes of hers. “You need help?” Laura finally asked.

You shook your head, “no. Just need a plumber. The sink in my kitchen is leakin’.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, considering something. “Why don’t you ask daddy?”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Because your dad’s busy, and it’s not his problem to deal with. I’ll figure it out.”

“He fixed the dishwasher last week,” she pointed out quietly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And the dryer.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother him with stuff like this,” you countered, trying to ignore how her face lit up every time she mentioned something Logan had done for you. “I’m sure he’s got enough on his plate.”

Laura didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against your desk, her small fingers tapping lightly on the wood. “He likes helping,” she murmured, almost like she was testing the waters.

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, but quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the bulletin board behind you. “He’s good at fixing things.”

You watched her for a moment, your irritation from earlier starting to melt away. It was hard to stay frustrated when she was being so earnest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But your dad doesn’t need to be the town’s go-to handyman.”

Laura glanced up at you through her lashes. “Just tell him. Please?”

There was something almost… hopeful in her gaze, and you felt a twinge of guilt. Laura wasn’t the type to ask for much. If this meant that much to her…

“Fine,” you sighed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll ask him. But only because you asked nicely.”

Laura’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, a look of victory crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but you’re not off the hook yet,” you teased gently. “You still owe me an essay on Newton’s laws of motion, remember?”

She scrunched up her nose, making a face. “I know. I’ll finish it.”

“Good,” you nodded, giving her a playful wink. “And don’t go trying to bribe me with homework just to get me to talk to your dad, okay?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I would never.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Alright, head back to class. Lunch is almost over.”

She gave a small nod, then glanced back at you before leaving. “He really likes you, you know.”

Your heart stuttered, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Laura—”

“Just saying,” she added quickly before ducking out the door and heading down the hallway.

You stared at the empty doorway, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Liking you? What did that even mean coming from an eleven-year-old?

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Logan was… well, Logan. Gruff, quiet, and often impossible to read. And sure, he’d been more present lately, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just being a good neighbor.

You glanced at the time on your phone, groaning softly. Lunch was almost over, and you hadn’t even finished setting up for the afternoon class.

“Guess I’ll ask him about the sink,” you muttered under your breath, more to convince yourself than anything.

Because if Laura was already noticing things, how long would it be before the whole town started talking?

---

That evening, after school had ended and you’d finally managed to get through the rest of your lesson plans, you found yourself standing in front of Logan’s place. It was only a short walk down the street, and yet, your feet felt heavier with each step.

You could hear the faint sound of a TV through the open window and the soft murmur of voices—Laura and Logan, probably talking about her day. It was… nice. Domestic. Something that made your chest tighten with an inexplicable emotion.

“Just ask about the sink and go,” you whispered to yourself, giving a firm nod. “No big deal.”

You knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Logan. He was in his usual attire—flannel shirt, jeans—and he looked at you with that same unreadable expression.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to ask for a favor.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. “What’s goin’ on?”

You hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My kitchen sink started leaking, and… well, I tried fixing it, but I think I made it worse. Laura said you’re good at this kind of stuff, so I thought… maybe…”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You want me to take a look at it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “If you’re not too busy. I don’t want to—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already grabbing a toolbox from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go.”

You blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to, like, finish dinner or something first?”

He shot you a look that was almost amused. “I’m not gonna let your kitchen flood because of a sink. C’mon.”

You let out a small laugh, relieved by his reaction. “Okay, fair point. Thanks, Logan.”

“No problem,” he grunted, stepping out onto the porch. “Lead the way.”

As you walked back to your place, you stole a glance at him. Logan might have been gruff and intimidating to most people, but you’d come to learn there was more to him than that.

When you reached your house, Logan set to work immediately, inspecting the pipes under the sink. You leaned against the counter, watching as he tinkered and adjusted, his movements methodical and precise.

“You didn’t have to come over right away,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

He didn’t look up, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Better to fix it now than let it get worse.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “But still… thanks.”

Logan glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than usual. “You don’t gotta thank me every time I do somethin’ for you, Y/N.”

“I know,” you replied, offering a small smile. “But I want to.”

He gave a low grunt, something between acknowledgment and dismissal, and returned his focus to the pipes. You stayed silent, watching him work, trying to make yourself useful by occasionally handing him a tool or holding a flashlight.

“You’ve done this before, huh?” you asked, breaking the silence again.

Logan didn’t look up, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Couple times.”

“Fixing sinks?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or just everything?”

“Everything,” he muttered. “You learn to handle stuff when no one else can.”

There was an unspoken weight behind his words, something you didn’t pry into. You knew Logan had been through more than he let on—there were pieces of his life you still hadn’t put together, and you weren’t sure you ever would. But that didn’t stop you from being curious.

Instead, you chose to keep the conversation light. “Well, I appreciate it. I probably would’ve made a bigger mess if I’d kept trying.”

He grunted again, this time almost in agreement, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, I walked into that one,” you admitted. “But seriously, thank you. Laura was right—you are good at this.”

Logan tightened the last pipe and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “She talks too much sometimes.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “She’s just proud of you.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he shifted the subject. “It’s done. Shouldn’t leak anymore, but if it does, just call me.”

You nodded, feeling that strange tightening in your chest again. “Got it. Thanks again.”

Logan grabbed his toolbox and started for the door, but something in the air between you both felt unfinished, like there was something unspoken hanging there. Before you could second-guess yourself, you called out.

“Logan?”

He paused, his back to you.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you continued, a little more quietly this time. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to add to it. But I appreciate you helping me.”

Logan turned, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place. For a second, you thought he might say something, but then he just gave a slow nod.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he finally said. “If you need somethin’, I’ll be around.”

He turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in your kitchen, staring after him. You exhaled, feeling a mix of confusion and warmth.

Later that evening, as you cleaned up and prepared for the next day’s lessons, you couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in your head. Logan’s quietness, his willingness to help, Laura’s knowing smiles. There was something stirring there, something more than just neighborly concern.

But you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the practicalities. Logan was a single dad with a complicated past, and you… well, you had your own life to focus on. This wasn’t the time to start overthinking things.

Still, as you drifted off to sleep that night, the image of Logan fixing your sink—focused, calm, and oddly comforting—stayed with you.

---

You’ve never liked storms. You’re not sure why, you grew up in Houston where it rained consistently and encountered a few hurricanes.

But when you turned 18, you went to college further north in Texas, getting away from the rain and finally getting sunshine and real heat, not humid heat.

It never rained much in the north of Minnesota, but when it did rain, it rained a lot. So much so that the school cancelled classes for the rest of the week.

You could use the time to catch up on grading assignments, but instead you found yourself barely able to keep your attention on the TV, flinching every time you heard thunder.

The storm outside raged on, lightning flashing every few seconds, followed by the rumble of thunder that rattled the windows. You glanced at the stack of papers you’d set aside to grade, but your mind just wasn’t in it.

“Why does it always feel worse at night?” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to focus on the TV.

Then, a knock at the door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially with the weather this bad.

You got up, hesitating for a second before opening the door to reveal Laura, soaked from head to toe, holding a small flashlight.

“Laura? What are you doing out here?” you asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Our power went out,” she explained quickly, shivering slightly. “Daddy said I could come over here since your lights are still on.”

You frowned, glancing past her toward Logan’s house, which was barely visible in the heavy rain. “Is your dad coming over too?”

Laura shrugged, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “He said he’d figure it out.”

You closed the door behind her, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and handing it to her. “You should’ve just called, you know. I would’ve come to get you.”

Laura gave you a small smile as she dried off. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to wait.”

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at her stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t.”

The two of you sat in the living room for a while, Laura settling into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, still glancing out the window at the storm every so often.

“How long’s the power been out?” you asked after a few minutes.

“Since just after dinner,” she replied. “Daddy was gonna try and fix it, but he said it might take a while.”

You nodded, already feeling a little guilty. If the power didn’t come back on soon, you’d probably end up with both of them staying over. Not that you minded, but it was one of those situations where you didn’t want to impose. Especially with Logan.

Almost on cue, there was another knock at the door, this one heavier, more deliberate.

You didn’t even have to look to know it was Logan.

You opened the door to find him standing there, drenched like Laura had been. His hair was plastered to his head, and his usual gruff expression was softened slightly by the rain dripping from his face.

“Come on in,” you said quickly, stepping aside.

Logan entered, shaking off some of the rain before giving you a nod. “Thanks. Power’s out, and I don’t think it’s comin’ back anytime soon.”

You closed the door behind him and offered him a towel, which he accepted without a word. He glanced over at Laura, who had made herself comfortable on the couch, and then back at you.

“You alright with us bein’ here?” he asked, his voice low but genuine.

“Of course,” you replied, waving it off. “I’m not gonna let you sit in the dark with no heat.”

Logan nodded, though there was something in his eyes—something like gratitude, though he didn’t voice it.

The three of you sat in the living room for a while, the storm still raging outside. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward either. Just... quiet. Logan wasn’t one for small talk, and Laura seemed content just to be around people, her gaze flicking back and forth between you and her dad.

As the night wore on, the storm didn’t let up, and Laura’s eyelids started to droop. You glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting.

“You’re welcome to stay the night,” you offered, glancing between them. “It’s still coming down pretty hard out there, and I don’t think the power’s coming back on soon.”

Laura perked up at the suggestion, but Logan hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “We’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t wanna impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I’ve got blankets. Besides, I’m not letting either of you walk back in this mess.”

Laura, sensing her opportunity, chimed in before Logan could object. “I want to stay,” she said quietly, her eyes big and hopeful.

Logan sighed, glancing at his daughter, clearly torn. “Laura…”

“Daddy, it’s still storming,” she added, her voice soft but insistent. “We can stay, right?”

You jumped in before he could refuse. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Really. Laura can take the guest bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch.”

Logan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch in your own house.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s your bed,” he grunted. “I’ll take the couch.”

Before you could argue, Laura piped up again, her voice full of innocent mischief. “You could both sleep in the bed.”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly glanced at Logan, whose expression had shifted to one of slight surprise.

“Laura,” you started, but she just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than she should have been.

“What?” she said innocently. “It’s a big bed.”

Logan sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helpin’, kid.”

Laura just grinned, her eyes gleaming with quiet victory. “I think I am.”

You cleared your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m fine with sleepin’ on the couch, really. Can’t really sleep when it’s stormin’ anyways.”

Laura, still lounging on the couch, piped up again, her grin growing wider. “You could just share the bed.”

Your face flushed, and you shot her a look. “Laura—”

“What?” She shrugged, playing innocent, but you could see the hint of mischief in her eyes.

Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kid, stop messin’ around.”

She held up her hands in surrender, but the teasing smile on her face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying it’s an option.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Laura, you’re gonna sleep in the guest room. I’ll be on the couch. End of story.”

Laura rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine.”

Logan glanced at you, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he muttered, “You sure about this? I don’t wanna take your bed.”

You waved him off, trying to sound casual. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just get some rest. You’ve been out in the rain long enough.”

He hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only because you won’t stop arguin’.”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling a little as you grabbed an extra blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it to Laura. “You can get settled in the guest room, kiddo.”

Laura caught the blanket and headed toward the guest room with a little bounce in her step, clearly pleased with how things were turning out. You watched her disappear down the hallway before turning back to Logan, who was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat out of place.

“You can leave your wet clothes by the door if you want,” you offered, trying to keep things normal, even though the situation felt anything but.

Logan gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, pulling off his soaked jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. He moved slowly, like he was still debating whether to argue about the sleeping arrangements again, but thankfully, he didn’t.

After a minute, he glanced back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you toward your bedroom. “Fair enough.”

Once he disappeared into the room, you let out a small sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was... not how you expected your night to go. Sharing your house with both Logan and Laura during a storm, with Laura sneakily playing matchmaker. It was almost funny, if not for the fact that Logan being this close made your heart race a little too much for comfort.

You settled back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over yourself and staring at the TV screen without really watching it. The sound of rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder filled the quiet, but it was hard to focus on the storm when you knew Logan was in the next room.

Laura had probably planned this all along.

You glanced toward the hallway where the guest room was, wondering if she was already asleep—or if she was lying there, scheming her next move.

Thunder broke you out of your thoughts, making you flinch slightly under the blankets.

You settled deeper into the couch, but sleep wasn’t coming any easier despite the exhaustion from the day. Your mind kept wandering, mostly back to Logan and how natural it had started to feel having him and Laura around. Maybe a little too natural.

A sharp crack of thunder rattled the windows, and you flinched again, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You’d thought you were getting used to storms, but this one was relentless, dragging on with no signs of easing up.

Just when you started to think you’d be up all night, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. You turned, expecting to see Laura coming out of the guest room, but instead, Logan stood there in the dim light of the living room, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, despite the storm.

He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not used to sleepin’ anywhere but my own bed.”

You nodded, biting back a knowing smile. “Yeah, I get that. Storm’s not helping much either.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. His gaze was a little softer than usual, like the storm had taken some of the edge off his usual roughness. “You alright? Heard you jumpin’ every time the thunder hits.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just... not a fan of storms.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Logan said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Don’t have to tough it out, y’know.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be this open, to offer any sort of comfort. He usually kept things buried under layers of gruffness and distance.

“Guess I’m just used to toughing it out,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.

Logan studied you for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You don’t always have to. Not with us.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to say. This side of Logan—the quiet, protective side—was something you’d only seen glimpses of before, but tonight, it was like the storm had brought down some of his walls.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you finally said, but your voice lacked its usual conviction.

“Not worryin’,” Logan replied, his gaze steady. “Just statin’ a fact.”

The thunder rolled again, quieter this time, as if the storm was finally starting to let up. Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, before he stood up, looking like he was about to head back to the bedroom.

But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “If you want... there’s room in the bed.”

Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, not sure if you heard him right. “What?”

Logan’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but his expression remained serious. “I ain’t suggestin’ what Laura was earlier,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “Just... if it helps you sleep better, I don’t mind. Couch’s not exactly comfortable.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comfort lightly, and the idea of sharing a bed with him—platonically or not—made your pulse quicken.

“I—” You faltered, unsure how to respond. But something in the way he was looking at you made it clear this wasn’t just about the storm or being polite. This was about something more—something that had been quietly building between the two of you for a while now.

Before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay.”

Logan’s eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your answer. He stepped aside as you stood, grabbing the blanket from the couch. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom, the tension thick but not uncomfortable—more like an understanding had settled between you.

Once inside, Logan shifted awkwardly as you took your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, trying to act like this was normal, like your heart wasn’t racing in your chest. Logan laid down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though the bed felt smaller with him in it.

The sound of the rain outside softened, though the occasional rumble of thunder still rolled in the distance. You stared at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Logan beside you, the space between you feeling charged.

“You good?” Logan asked after a minute, his voice low in the quiet.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Thanks,” you added, not just for offering the bed, but for being there, for not making this weird.

Logan turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But it was something. It was a lot, actually.

You both lay there in silence for a while, the sound of the rain becoming almost soothing. You could feel the warmth of him next to you, solid and reassuring, and slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Logan’s voice broke the silence again, so quiet you almost missed it.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice gruff but sincere. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not with us around.”

Your heart swelled, a mix of emotions you weren’t quite ready to confront just yet. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his in the small space between you.

Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his grip warm and steady.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you fell asleep without flinching at the sound of thunder.

---

You woke up to the sound of soft rain pattering against the window, the storm from last night finally easing up. For a second, you forgot where you were, until you felt the weight of the blanket and the warmth of another presence next to you. Logan. His steady breathing filled the quiet space, and you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.

This was new.

You glanced over at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he usually carried nowhere to be found. It was strange seeing him like this—calm, almost peaceful. You could feel the residual warmth from his hand where he’d held yours last night, and the memory made your chest tighten.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of quiet. You padded out into the hallway, stopping by Laura’s room to peek in. She was still asleep, wrapped up in blankets, her small body barely a lump under the covers.

You smiled to yourself, already suspecting that she had something to do with last night’s sleeping arrangements. Laura was too clever for her own good sometimes.

In the kitchen, you started brewing coffee, the scent filling the small space. As you waited for it to finish, you found yourself staring out the window, your mind still on Logan. Last night had been... unexpected. But not unwelcome. The way he’d stayed close, offering comfort without making a big deal out of it—it meant more than you wanted to admit.

The soft creak of footsteps behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You’re up early,” Logan’s gravelly voice broke the quiet.

You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair still a little mussed from sleep, but otherwise looking much like his usual self.

“Couldn’t sleep much after the storm,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”

You poured two mugs, setting one in front of him before taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sipping your coffee in the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Logan glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes softer than usual. “You sleep alright?”

You hesitated, remembering how easily you’d fallen asleep next to him. “Better than I expected, honestly.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess the storm wasn’t as bad as you thought.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. “Or maybe it was the company.”

Logan’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on you again. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay. Laura didn’t give you much choice, huh?”

“She didn’t have to,” you replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t gonna let either of you stay in a freezing house with no power.”

Logan nodded, his eyes drifting to the window. “Power should be back on soon. I’ll head back once it’s up.”

You didn’t say anything, but part of you felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. You hadn’t had many moments like this—quiet, with just the two of you—and you found yourself wanting it to last a little longer.

Laura’s quiet footsteps broke the silence as she padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.

“Mornin’,” Laura mumbled, glancing between the two of you with a knowing look before plopping down at the table. “Is the power back on yet?”

“Not yet,” you said, trying to ignore the way she was eyeing you and Logan.

Laura just shrugged, grabbing the cereal box from the counter and helping herself. “Guess we’re stuck here a little longer, huh?”

You shot her a look, but she didn’t seem fazed, her focus on her cereal. It was hard to tell if she was playing innocent or if she was just that good at pretending.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.

Laura perked up at that. “You said you’d help me with my English homework, remember?”

You blinked. “I—uh, right. Yeah, I did say that.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at Laura. “Since when do you need help with English?”

Laura shot him a quick look before turning back to you, all smiles. “I figured Ms. Aberra would be better at explaining it than you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, starting to catch on. “I’m sure you’re doing fine in English, Laura.”

She shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Yeah, but it’s better when someone explains it.”

Logan just shook his head, clearly not buying it either, but he didn’t say anything, letting Laura’s little game play out.

“Well,” you said, getting up from the table. “I guess we can take a look at it after breakfast.”

Laura grinned, clearly pleased with how things were going. “Thanks, Ms. Aberra.”

You smiled back, even though you knew something was up. Sure, you had been helping her with English homework for a while now, but she didn’t need the help. When she would show you her essays or answers to questions about a reading, they were always perfect. Still, you played along, grabbing your coffee and heading toward the living room.

“Alright,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at her. “Go grab your stuff, and we’ll take a look.”

Laura jumped up, cereal forgotten, and dashed off to retrieve her things. You settled onto the couch, sipping your coffee and trying to push aside the strange feeling that this was part of something bigger. But what?

Logan followed you into the living room, sitting down in the worn armchair opposite you. He gave you a look—one eyebrow slightly raised, lips set in that half-smirk he sometimes wore when he was figuring someone out.

“She really roped you into this, huh?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to kids asking for help with schoolwork.”

“Yeah, but Laura? She doesn’t ask for help unless she’s got some kind of angle.”

You laughed softly, but the truth of his words settled somewhere in the back of your mind. Laura wasn’t just a smart kid—she was calculating. You’d seen it in class and at home. The way she observed things, the way she always seemed to know what was going on, even when no one said a word.

“I guess I’ll find out,” you said, leaning back into the couch.

Before Logan could reply, Laura returned, a small notebook and a pencil in hand. She sat beside you, flipping it open to a random page. You glanced at the page, immediately noticing that it was filled with neat, almost perfect handwriting. The essay she’d written didn’t have a single correction or revision mark.

“Alright,” you began, pretending you didn’t see the perfection in front of you. “What do you need help with?”

Laura handed the notebook over, her face perfectly serious. “I just wanted to know if the introduction’s strong enough.”

You skimmed through the first paragraph, and honestly, it was better than anything you’d expect from a sixth grader. If anything, it felt more like she was testing you than asking for actual feedback.

“It’s good,” you said slowly. “Your thesis is clear, and you have a strong opening sentence. You might want to make the transition to your first point a little smoother, but overall, it’s solid.”

Laura nodded thoughtfully, pretending to make a note in her notebook. You watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what game she was playing. There was no way she needed your help, but for some reason, she wanted you here. And Logan, too.

Logan just sat quietly, watching the two of you like he wasn’t quite sure what was happening either. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers tapping lightly. You could feel his presence, steady and grounding, even when he wasn’t saying anything.

Laura glanced at her dad. “Ms. Aberra’s a pretty good teacher, don’t you think?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk back in full force. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

You gave Laura a suspicious look. “You’re not just buttering me up for extra credit, are you?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “No. I just like the way you explain things.”

“Mhm.” You weren’t buying it, but it was hard not to laugh.

The quiet hung between you all for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside and the occasional scrape of Laura’s pencil against her notebook. It felt… peaceful, despite the nagging feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.

“Alright, well,” you finally said, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Looks like you’ve got this handled, Laura. I don’t think you need much help.”

Laura blinked up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks anyway.”

You caught the look she sent Logan’s way, and suddenly, it clicked. She didn’t need your help with homework—she was just trying to get you to stick around a little longer. Maybe even trying to give you and Logan more time together.

Smart kid.

Logan, of course, said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and it both frustrated and intrigued you.

"So," Laura said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What’s the plan today?"

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one with the notebook full of perfect essays. I thought you had plans."

Laura grinned at that, not even trying to hide it anymore. "I was thinking we could all go out for lunch. Since we’re stuck here."

Logan gave her a look, but didn’t say anything, clearly seeing through her. You stifled a laugh, playing along. "Lunch, huh? You paying?"

Laura shrugged, looking way too pleased with herself. "I’ll ask nicely. Maybe you’ll cover it."

You shook your head, pretending to think it over. "Might be able to swing it."

Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."

"Hey, I’m a teacher. Gotta budget wisely," you shot back, smirking at him.

Laura just smiled, clearly happy with how things were going, and it hit you again—she was definitely playing matchmaker. Subtle, but it was there. Not that you minded. Spending more time with Logan wasn’t exactly a hardship.

Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you, though. "You’re sure you don’t mind us hanging around?"

You tilted your head, genuinely surprised. "Logan, if I minded, I wouldn’t have let you in. You’re both always welcome here."

For a second, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just gave a slow nod, like he was accepting it—maybe even appreciating it, though he’d never say that out loud. "Thanks."

You shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though you knew it kind of was. "Don’t mention it."

Laura got up, stretching her arms over her head before grabbing her empty bowl. "I’ll go get ready for lunch then," she said, already heading to the sink. "I’m starving."

You watched her go, then turned back to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "Think we’ve got time for that before the power comes back on?"

Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. "Could be out a while longer."

"Convenient," you muttered, though there was no real bite to it.

Logan chuckled, a low, rough sound that made something in your chest tighten. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood up, stretching slightly. "Guess we better make sure the kid doesn’t eat the place out of food while we wait."

You laughed, following him into the kitchen. The dynamic between the three of you felt easy now, comfortable in a way that surprised you. Even with Laura’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, there was something natural about how you and Logan were around each other. It wasn’t rushed or forced. Just... right.

Laura appeared from the hallway, already dressed and tugging on her jacket. "Ready when you are," she said, a little too cheerfully.

Logan gave her a look. "We haven’t even decided where we’re going."

"I’ll leave that up to the grown-ups," she said, grabbing her shoes.

You exchanged a glance with Logan, both of you clearly thinking the same thing: this kid was way too clever for her own good. But neither of you called her out on it.

"Alright," Logan finally said, grabbing his jacket. "Let’s get going before the power comes back and ruins her plan."

Laura grinned but didn’t say anything, grabbing your hand as you all headed out into the damp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still overcast, a soft, gray light filtering through the clouds.

You walked beside Logan, Laura skipping a few steps ahead, her eyes darting around like she was taking everything in. She was always like that—watching, observing. And now you knew why. She was playing a long game, slowly pushing you and Logan closer together, little by little.

You couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Really good.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to appreciate her efforts.

---

The school did something special for parents on Valentine’s Day. Instead of just handing out donuts or cupcakes, they did a competition.

There was different challenges for each couple, or pairing, to finish, and to make it even better, their kids would have to guide them on certain challenges, like walking blindfolded to the finish line on the field.

Emma glanced over at you as you were going through the list of parent’s names, making sure everyone had a partner. There were a few single parents, so you had to figure out who they should be paired with. But there was an odd number, one parent would have to sit out.

“So… who’s sitting out?” Emma asked, leaning on the desk next to you. She had that casual curiosity in her tone, but you knew she was just as invested in making sure things ran smoothly as you were.

You chewed your lip, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ve got one extra parent. I’m not sure yet.”

Emma peeked over your shoulder, scanning the names. “What about Logan?”

You paused, looking at the list. Logan’s name was there, as was Laura’s, but you hesitated. He wasn’t exactly the type to jump into school events, especially one that involved blindfolds and teamwork. And while he’d been involved in Laura’s life, you weren’t sure he’d want to participate in something like this.

“Yeah, guess he can sit out. We have an odd number of parents anyways.” You put down the clipboard and looked at the empty donut box, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go to the other room and get another box.”

As you moved toward the door, you noticed Laura sitting quietly in the corner, fiddling with her notebook, watching everything with that usual sharpness in her eyes. She had been quiet all morning, almost too quiet. You gave her a smile before heading to the break room, still feeling a little awkward about pairing up the parents.

Emma stayed behind, her eyes flicking between you and Laura, a slight smirk tugging at her lips like she was onto something.

You weaved through the hallway, your mind still on the whole situation. These parent events were always a little tricky when it came to single parents. You knew Logan wasn’t exactly the type to jump into the school scene, especially for something like a Valentine’s Day competition, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he’d want to give it a shot for Laura.

Grabbing the donut box, you paused for a second. The idea of Logan being there today, paired up with someone else, didn’t sit right. Not that you had any reason to feel that way. It was just... Logan. You weren’t even sure if he’d show up.

When you returned to the room, Laura was still sitting there, now scribbling something in her notebook. She glanced up as you entered, her expression neutral but her eyes watching you closely.

“Everything okay?” you asked, setting the fresh box on the table and moving to grab the clipboard again.

Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Thinking about the competition?” You smiled, trying to make conversation, but she just gave you a vague shrug.

“Something like that.”

Emma glanced at you, her smirk still there as she made a little noise of amusement. “Logan didn’t strike me as the ‘competition’ type. But who knows?”

You shot her a look, but before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan walked in. Speak of the devil. He looked around, taking in the sight of parents getting ready, kids buzzing with excitement. His eyes landed on you, and he gave a short nod, his usual gruff greeting.

“You’re here,” you said, surprised, trying to keep your voice casual. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets. “Laura signed us up. Thought I’d better show.”

Laura, sitting nearby, perked up but kept her face mostly neutral. She wasn’t about to blow her cover, not yet anyway.

“Right,” you said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Well, there’s an odd number of parents, so... I was thinking maybe you’d sit out.”

Laura, quick as ever, jumped in. “Or you could partner with someone else.”

You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess, but we don’t really have—”

“You could partner with Daddy.” Laura said it so simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t been plotting this for weeks.

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly realizing what his daughter was doing, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

You stammered a bit, caught completely off guard. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

Laura gave you a look, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s just for the competition. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, there was a slight smirk on his face. “It’s just a game, right? We’ll survive.”

Emma, watching the whole thing play out, was trying very hard not to laugh. “Looks like you’re stuck with Logan, Y/N.”

You felt a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. It was one thing to think about spending time with Logan, but being thrown into a school competition with him—especially with Laura being the mastermind behind it—was another.

“Okay, fine,” you muttered, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal at all. “I guess we’ll partner up.”

Logan just gave a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”

Laura’s eyes practically sparkled with victory as she hopped up from her seat, already heading toward the field where the first challenge would take place. You followed, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but it was impossible with Logan right next to you.

As you reached the field, the first task was announced: a three-legged race. Of course. Out of all the challenges, it had to be this one. You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ropes being handed out for the pairs to tie their legs together.

"This should be interesting," Logan muttered under his breath, taking one of the ropes and holding it out for you.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your nerves behind a smile. "I feel like this is a recipe for disaster."

Logan’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Only if you don’t keep up."

"Me?" You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to tie the rope around your ankle and his. "You’re the one with the bum leg."

Logan grunted, not arguing, though his usual swagger was still intact. "I’ll manage."

Laura stood off to the side, watching with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the show. You could tell she was pleased with herself, and part of you was too, even if you were trying to act like this was no big deal.

"Alright, ready?" Logan asked, standing up straighter after securing the rope.

"As I’ll ever be," you replied, trying to gauge the best way to navigate the race without falling flat on your face.

The whistle blew, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly hopping forward, one leg bound to Logan’s as you tried to find some sort of rhythm. The first few steps were disastrous—Logan’s longer strides making it nearly impossible for you to keep pace without stumbling.

"Slow down!" you laughed, grabbing his arm to steady yourself as you nearly tripped.

Logan smirked, his hand quickly coming to your waist to keep you from toppling over. "You gotta move faster than that, Y/N."

"Or maybe you need to move slower!" you shot back, trying to adjust your steps to match his. After a few shaky moments, you finally found a rhythm, the two of you moving in sync—well, mostly. Logan’s hand lingered at your waist, steadying you as you both half-hopped, half-laughed your way toward the finish line.

"Not bad," Logan grunted as you crossed the line, not quite first, but definitely not last either.

"Not bad?" You shot him a look, still a little breathless from laughing. "I’m pretty sure we almost face-planted three times."

"Could’ve been worse," he replied with a shrug, that smirk of his still in place.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart was still racing—though you weren’t sure if it was from the race or from the fact that Logan had kept his arm around your waist longer than necessary.

Laura, waiting at the sidelines, gave you both a knowing look as you untied the rope. "You guys were pretty good," she commented casually, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

"Pretty good?" you echoed, shooting her a playful glare. "We almost ate dirt, Laura."

Logan grunted in agreement but didn’t say much, just shaking his head as he rubbed his leg a bit. You noticed the slight grimace that flashed across his face—something you hadn’t seen often, but it was there for just a moment before he covered it up.

"Next challenge is... egg balancing," Emma announced from the other end of the field, holding up a spoon and a carton of eggs.

You and Logan exchanged a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, this’ll be fun."

Logan just sighed, clearly less than thrilled about the prospect of trying to balance an egg on a spoon, but he didn’t protest. You handed him one of the spoons as you lined up for the next round.

"You got a steady hand?" you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Logan glanced at the spoon, then back at you. "Steadier than yours, probably."

"Let’s see about that," you shot back, placing the egg carefully on your spoon. The whistle blew, and you both started across the field, trying to keep the fragile eggs from toppling off. You had to admit, Logan had a surprising amount of focus for a guy who usually looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Not bad for an old man," you joked, glancing over at him as you both carefully moved toward the finish line.

"Careful, Y/N. That’s how you get egg on your face," Logan muttered, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.

Just as you were nearing the end, Laura darted over, watching closely. "Come on, you guys can do it!"

It was hard to ignore the pride in her voice—she was definitely enjoying watching you two work together. And maybe, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you were too.

By the time you finished, both of your eggs still intact, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It was silly, sure, but being paired with Logan for these goofy challenges wasn’t as awkward as you thought it might be. In fact, it was... kind of nice.

"Two for two," Logan said with a smirk, handing his spoon back as the event wrapped up.

"Don’t get too cocky," you replied, bumping his arm lightly as you handed yours in too. "We’ll see how you do with the next one."

Laura appeared beside you again, her eyes bright. "You guys make a good team."

You gave her a sideways glance, trying not to read too much into her words. "Yeah, well, it’s all about teamwork, right?"

Logan didn’t say anything, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was something there—something unspoken that made your heart skip a beat.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of silly games and laughter, and by the time the event was over, you were exhausted, but in the best way possible. Logan had stayed the whole time, never complaining or trying to bow out early. Laura, of course, was thrilled with how things had turned out, and you couldn’t help but feel like she had succeeded in whatever plan she had been cooking up.

As the parents and kids started to trickle out of the school, you found yourself standing beside Logan near the door. Laura had already run ahead to grab her things, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.

"Thanks for sticking around," you said, glancing up at him. "I know this probably wasn’t your idea of a fun day."

Logan shrugged, his usual nonchalant expression in place. "Wasn’t so bad."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m glad you came. Laura seemed to really enjoy it."

"Yeah," Logan agreed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked in the direction where Laura had run off. "She’s a good kid."

"She is," you said, nodding. "And she’s lucky to have you."

Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."

There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."

As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."

"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."

---

It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.

Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."

You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.

"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."

Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.

As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.

Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.

You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”

“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”

Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.

You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”

Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.

“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”

Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.

Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura���s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.

“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”

Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.

Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.

“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”

Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”

Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”

“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.

You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.

“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.

Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”

Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”

He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.

“Logan, I—”

“Y/N, I—”

You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.

“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”

“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”

Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.

"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."

You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.

"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."

Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.

"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.

"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."

Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.

"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."

Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.

You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.

“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.

And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.

“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.

Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.

His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.

“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.

“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”

You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.

You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.

Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.

tags: @freythecrazyfae

[widowshill]

A-Z Fandom Asks: N, P, R? (that wasn't planned, just. happy accident?) please and thank you!

A -> Z FANDOM ASKS.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

my number one is r/v obviously <3 i do actually feel kind of spoiled with the shippy stuff ive found in some old blogs though, i tend to adopt the rarest of rarepairs so i'm not complaining. but more is always better! and i'm steadily converting people to the cause 🏴‍☠️

generally speaking i think the pre barnabas episodes could always use more love. it's quite different tonally to later on and I can understand why folks might skip it for those reasons, but I fervently protest the idea that they're boring ! I'm biased of course because my faves are the 1966'ers, but there's so much delicious character work going on, and I think ... you need the rotted b&w gothic foundation for the technicolor house of horrors built on top of it, if that makes sense. i also think barnabas is kinda :/ it should be pre and post laura collins if we're all being honest with ourselves here.

hmmm. possibly a symptom of like, only being here / a tiny bit on twitter and not on like, actual forums, but i would love to see more long ass ds metas. love to read the insanely smart things b.lack s.ails people (and p.otc!) post on the reg. need that about haunted maine ppl

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

okay well you can guess where i'm going to go with this west indies piracy au go

The Collinses are descended from merchant wealth in England and currently control a small port city in the Bahamas. the family's connections to the Marquess of Winchester manages to land Roger an appointment as governor, although everyone knows the title is only a formality: his sister runs everything, including Roger. once prosperous, a combination of over-fishing, hurricanes, and an earthquake twenty years past has left the town desolate, and the sand beneath their feet liquefied. rather than abandon what she has built, Elizabeth is determined to hold on, but without any support from England for what they feel has no hope to turn profitable, the family turns to investing in forced trade.

enter Burke Devlin, a privateer employed under a letter of marque signed and sealed by Roger Collins. Devlin is the best, most profitable, and most infamous of their captains, often dining with them at their table and a close friend of the governor. For a while they enjoy mutual prosperity with Spain's wealth, and pirate labor. But the world is growing more respectable around them, and what was once the fringes of civility is gradually becoming its center. The way to survive is no longer with the pirates. When Burke is captured and tried for piracy, his benefactors turn their back on him: he is sacrificed, essentially, as a figurehead for the port and governor's respectability (vaguely à la Kidd). Even his wife sends written testimony against him, and remarries before her husband officially swings, to his former friend and sponsor, Roger.

Burke manages to escape before his hanging, and turns to piracy in the Mediterranean – after ten years, in 1698, he comes back to raid the Collins shipping fleet, with the eventual goal not of razing Collinsport to the ground, but of installing himself as governor there. One of the ships he captures carries a special passenger – the new governess, sent for from England – and he personally delivers her to their doorstep, but not before she can witness how different Captain Devlin is from the terrifying stories about him and his crew.

the governess also brings news from England: William III has passed a new law against the pirates in the West Indies. any person to aid and assist, or maintain, procure, command, counsel, or advise the pirates, are condemned to the same loss of property and life as the pirates themselves.

meet also:

maggie evans, the no-nonsense tavern wench, and her sweetheart, the honest merchant sailor joe haskell that hates pirates and everything they stand for

carolyn stoddard, who has a copy of Exquemelin in both French and English and has memorized every word, and is violently jealous of vicki for dining with a scary pirate captain. she'd like nothing better than to be kidnapped out of the governor's mansion. her cousin david loves the stables and knows everything about horses ... including how best to spook them.

sam evans, former court painter, now art forger

julia hoffman, naturalist (and other sciences as required)

bill malloy, who oversees the merchant fleet and the warehouses, and carries carolyn home from the docks or the tavern by the scruff of her neck, if he has to.

laura collins, sent away to bedlam for hysteria, managed to come back, and is now setting boats on fire as a hobby

the blairs, hailing from massachusetts: james, a well-respected lawyer eventually revealed to be working with devlin, and his cousins, nicholas and cassandra, political and religious exiles who spent some time in maritinique, where they both adopted quimbois practices.

jason macguire, irish smuggler, and willie loomis, former indentured servant working out his sentence in america. they have a run in with cousin barnabas, who's been making his questionable fortune in the east indies rather than the west, and who definitely does not do any cannibalism.

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

ROGER AND JULIA. in other places, eleanor and flint >>>> also elizabeth and barbossa. i feel like this is forming a pattern of some kind hang on

[dees-writing-corner]

wedding bells - friday

pairing: best friend!mingi x fem!reader

word count: 1443

previous | masterlist

If any of you want to be added to the taglist just send me a message <3 A/N It's here! I've rewritten it! Still in the process of rewriting the remaining chapters tho 😢 Also, I am literally soooo sick right now. I don't think I've felt like this since I was 10 😭

“Mingi. Your phone.” 

I rolled away from Mingi and buried my face into the pillow. 

I heard shuffling from beside me, followed by silence. 

“What? - Yeah, she’s here. - Why? - Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her.” 

I felt Mingi put his arm around me, pulling me back into him. 

“Who was it?” 

“Minho. They were wondering where you were. Apparently, Laura needs you to be her maid of honour.” 

Whatever sleepiness I felt flew straight out of the window when I heard that. Propping my chin on Mingi’s chest, I looked at him in shock. 

“What?” 

“Her maid of honour had to fly back home because of a family emergency. She needs you down in half an hour.” 

Dropping my head back down, I let out a whine. 

“I wanna sleep. Still tired.” 

I could feel Mingi’s chest rumble as he chuckled before he nudged my head with his nose. 

“I know, love, but we’ve got to get up. Minho needs me for best man duties today as well.” 

Throwing my arm around his waist, I buried my face in the crook of his neck. 

“Don’t wanna move.” 

We were both lying there peacefully until we heard someone opening and closing our door, followed by the bed dipping beside me. 

“Why did your cousin just invite me to their wedding?” 

Turning around, we were met with Hongjoong lying on his side, propping his head up on his arm as he looked at us. 

Raising a brow at him, “Good morning to you too. Now, do you mind?” 

“Not really.” 

The words he said, paired with the cheeky grin on his face, sent me into a fit of laughter. 

“Joong, c’mon, what if one of us was naked or something?” 

“It’s not something I’ve never seen before, so I don’t really care. Now back to the point, why has Minho invited me to the wedding?” 

Mingi sat up, stretching a bit, “They’ve got an extra seat because Y/N’s now the maid of honour, so they probably thought, because you’re here, they’d just invite you.” 

Crawling over Mingi, I got out of bed to get ready. 

“You two carry on talking while I go and get ready to meet Laura.” 

Making my way to the bathroom, I could hear the two discussing about a track they were working on for a project. 

“Okay. We might have a slight problem.” 

That was the first thing I heard when I walked into the bridal suite. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have packed a navy-coloured dress before you came, would you? If not, we’re going to have to drive into town to buy you a dress.” 

I paused for a second, trying to remember if I had. 

“Umm, give me a second. Let me text Mingi.” 

Putting down my phone, I took a seat next to Laura on the sofa. 

“Mingi’s going to bring it over to show you.” 

I could see the tension go from Laura’s shoulders as she let out a relieved sigh. 

“Oh, thank god, it probably would’ve taken us ages to find a dress for you.” 

“Hmm, hun, why am I your maid of honour? You’ve known me a total of like, 6 days. And I’m not saying I don’t want to, but ya know.” 

“Well, we’ve spent so much time together, and you’ve done so much for us, so I thought you’d make a good maid of honour. Plus, it was either you or Elle who, even though is family, I don’t want her as my maid of honour. I’m sure neither do you or Mingi because Mingi’s going to have to walk down with her.” 

Grimacing, I shook my head, “Yeah, no.” 

“Yeah, no, what?” 

Looking up, we saw Mingi walk in with the dress hanging from his arm. 

“Oh, yeah, here’s the dress.” 

Laura held up the dress with a bright smile, “Oh, this is perfect! The shade is actually exactly the same as the other ones!” 

I smiled as I watched her place the dress next to the bride’s maid dresses. The shade was indeed the same. 

Feeling arms wrap around my waist, I tilted my neck to the side, feeling Mingi brush his nose against the side of it. 

“What are you doing?” 

I let out a small chuckle, putting my hand over his. 

“Nothing. Just happy I get to hold you like this.” 

He placed a small kiss under my ear, when we heard someone clear their throats. 

Looking up, I saw Laura looking at us with an eyebrow arched. 

“You two seem extra lovey today. What actually happened last night?” 

Feeling Mingi tightened his arms around me, I get his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“We talked some, actually, a lot of things out last night. And I’m glad we did.” 

Turning around, I gave him a peck before walking out of his hold. 

“Now go, you’ve got best man duties.” 

Turning back around, I sat back down onto the sofa, Laura plopping down soon after. 

“How’re you feeling about the wedding tomorrow?” 

“Nervous. Excited. Literally every emotion known is flowing through me right now. I can’t believe I’m actually getting married!” 

Laughing, I put an arm around her shoulder. 

“I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling right now. God, I don’t even think I can imagine getting married myself.” 

“Ya know? I wasn’t kidding about you and Mingi getting married. I really do believe he’ll ask you to marry him. He really does love you.” 

With a soft smile, I looked at her. 

“Yeah? Well, I love him too.” 

“Have you told him that?” 

“Yeah. Last night, after many, many tears.” 

Nudging her shoulder, “You wanna know something? I caught feelings for Mingi about 6 months after we met. He was seeing someone at the time and I would help him plan his dates. I did that up until he asked me out.” 

Laura gaped at me before letting out a laugh in disbelief. 

“You helped the guy you LIKED plan his dates?! What?” 

I chuckled at how absurd it sounded but nodded anyway. 

“Yeah. I was like, as long as he’s happy then it’s fine. And after he confessed to me, I was like ‘what’ followed by ‘then why the hell have I been planning your dates with other girls’. His response to this was ‘because I thought you liked someone else’.” 

We both laughed at this.  

“Oh my god. I can’t!” 

We carried on sharing some funny stories, laughing so hard at some that we had tears rolling down our faces. 

With both of us more relaxed, we finally started to go over the details for the wedding. 

It was about 10 in the evening when Laura and I finished going over everything for tomorrow. This included meeting the bride's maids, who I have now become friends with because they are literally some of the best girls I’ve ever met. 

Walking into the room, I let out a tired sigh, “I’m back.” 

Mingi got up from where he was perched on the armchair and guided me further into the room. 

“You been busy? I haven’t seen you all day.” 

Hugging Mingi around the waist, I buried my face into his shoulder. 

“We had to go through everything I had to do at the wedding tomorrow. There’s literally so much. God. I don’t think I want to get married anymore.” 

I could hear Mingi choke from above me. Pulling away, I looked at him, arching a brow. 

“What? You plan on marrying me?” 

Mingi looked away from me and I could see his neck and ear becoming increasingly redder as the seconds ticked by. 

Letting out a small laugh, I turned his head back towards me. 

“I’m just kidding, love. We’ll just see where the future takes us.” 

Getting up on my toes, I pressed a kiss against Mingi’s lips. 

“I’m going to clean up. The day has completely drained me.” 

Pulling Mingi in for one more kiss, I let go and made my way towards the bathroom. 

After taking a quick shower, I walked out and saw Mingi sat against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. 

Sliding under the duvet, I wrapped an arm around Mingi’s waist and laid my head on his chest. 

“Have you set an alarm for tomorrow? We have to be up by 5.” 

I watched as Mingi set the alarm before placing the phone on the nightstand to charge. 

Turning the lights off, I snuggled into Mingi’s side. 

“Goodnight Mingi.” 

Pressing a kiss into my hairline, “Goodnight, pretty.” 

Closing my eyes, my mind drifted to Laura’s comment about Mingi and I this morning. 

Maybe we will. 

next

taglist: @jhmylove @hongjoongsmainbitch @rielleluvs @marievllr-abg @cookiechristie

[trilliastra]

[*drops a sterek fic after two years and runs away to hide*]

-

It’s all Cora’s fault and Derek will remain of the opinion that his life only went downhill the moment his little sister was born.

It starts with Sara, his sister’s friend, whose boyfriend turned out to be a jerk and would not let her inside his apartment to collect her things unless she took him back. And Cora volunteered Derek to help.

Derek didn’t really mind it at first, Sara only needed a guy to look strong (which he is), angry (which he was) and able to carry her stuff from place a to place b (which he did). But some weeks later Sara met a friend with an equally stupid boyfriend and said friend had another friend and then Laura heard about it and it suddenly became a thing.

Georgia, Nelly, Carmen, Lola.

Isaac.

“I could help, you know?” Derek had said after the fifth time he noticed the blossoming purple bruises on the back of Isaac’s neck, his scrapped knuckles. “If you need to get rid of your –” he lowered his voice, “boyfriend.”

Isaac had looked at him, wide eyed, before he confessed he isn’t gay and the problem was actually his dad. “Oh,” Derek had said, thinking for a moment before adding, “I could help with that, too.”

Turns out Derek’s intimidation skills were lacking when compared to his own father’s.

-

“You’re doing a really nice thing, Derek.” Isaac says one night, helping him with his hand. Asshole boyfriend of the night thought he could bag a few punches before letting Phill grab his laptop back. Derek was faster, and stronger.

Isaac moved in with him and Boyd two weeks after his dad was sentenced. He didn’t want to, at first, was still incredibly shy and scared of everything, including Derek, but he opened up to Boyd pretty quickly. Despite his built (and the fact he can bench press three times his own weight), Boyd is the softest person Derek has ever met.

“Sure.” Derek sighs.

“But?” He asks and Derek sighs again, looks away when Boyd walks into the room.

“I had a date.” Derek confesses and Boyd whistles in sympathy.

“How many times has it been, again?”

“Three.” Derek winces when Isaac presses the antiseptic over the cut. “I’m – I really like him.”

“You could just tell him.” Isaac says. “He’s a cool guy, I guess.” He shrugs, smiling. “Sometimes he’s an asshole. But not in a bad way.”

Derek huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Stiles is an asshole, he likes teasing Derek when they are discussing ethics in the workplace and every way capitalism is stepping over immigrants, they banter and they quote books back and forth and while some people (his sisters) roll their eyes when Derek brings up some history fact, Stiles nods along, brings up another history fact that Derek didn’t know (or sometimes pretends not to know, just to hear Stiles talking about it), hands moving around as he explains his point or badmouths a historic figure that owned so much money ‘their great-great-grandkids are still swimming in the gold they stole from the natives’.

Derek is in love.

“What did you tell him this time?” Boyd asks, munching on his chips. He shakes the bag in front of them and while Derek takes a couple, Isaac shakes his head, still not used to being allowed good things.

Some memories are hard to forget.

“That my mom had stopped by to visit.” Derek says. He hates lying, he is not even good at it. The first time he tried to tell Stiles he looked like a wet cat after he got caught up in the rain, white shirt sticking to his chest, Derek’s cheeks had gotten so red, Stiles asked him if he was okay.

“Dude.” Isaac says, shaking his head in disappointment as he finishes bandaging Derek’s hand.

“I know.” Derek gives back, collapsing on his bed with a groan.

This is all Cora’s fault.

-

Okay. Stiles texts back when Derek has to postpone their date again. Derek can feel the disappointment through the message, mirroring his own feelings.

How about tomorrow night? Derek tries, stares at his phone for minutes until he realizes Stiles probably won’t text him back.

-

“Please.” Maria says, holding her cat with a bright smile as they talk in front of a coffee shop. She is trying to convince him to accept a coffee and Derek is trying to convince her he doesn’t need it. “How can I thank you?”

Derek sighs. “I didn’t do anything.” And it is true, her boyfriend wasn’t working when they arrived at the coffee shop and when they opened the door of the apartment upstairs, it was empty save for the cat that Maria is currently hugging.

“You were there for me.” She smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear and Derek already knows what’s coming.

It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last. He has been invited for ‘thank you’ coffees, dinners, sex. It never felt right, though. Not with the guys, and especially not with the girls.

Sorry. He always says. Some of them are attractive, he supposes, but he was, and still is, very much gay.

“I’m—” he starts, but Maria’s eyes widen and when Derek turns around, a guy is stalking towards them, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“You bitch!” He shouts, startling most of the costumers inside and the shop and the people walking around the street. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my cat back!” She yells back and Derek steps closer, eyeing the guy’s fists as he starts to shake with anger.

The guy notices his move and turns his glare to him. “And who the fuck are you?”

Before Derek can answer, Maria chimes in. “My boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” It takes Derek a second to realize the words didn’t come from him, but from someone in the crowd, one of the onlookers that gathered around them to watch the scene unfold.

Two seconds after that, Derek realizes the person talking was Stiles.

-

That explains a lot. It’s the last message Stiles sends him before blocking his number.

Derek tries to call, talk to him after class, but his friends keep him away, Lydia going as far as brandishing a can of pepper spray in front of him, eyes shining with an unspoken threat.

“You should follow him to his dorm.” Isaac offers, weakly.

“Creeps do that.” Derek says. “I don’t want to be more of an asshole than I already am.”

“You’re not an asshole.” Isaac says, clasping his shoulder in sympathy. “I could – talk to him? If you want?” The offer makes Derek smile, touched. Isaac is still extremely shy in front of strangers, but just the fact that he considered doing it for him is enough.

“It’s fine.” Derek says. It isn’t fine, and they both know it, but he will pull through. Eventually. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

-

It’s harder that Derek anticipated, seeing Stiles during classes and not being able to talk to him, to tease him when Mrs. Schilder glares at him for using a pun that makes the entire room burst out laughing from second-hand embarrassment.

He is beautiful, Derek thinks at least ten times a day, and smart and kind and funny and Derek could see them being together for a long time, falling deeper in love as the time passes.

He should be used to not having good things. He grew up as a middle child, as a gay teenager in a small town where some boys were so far deep in the closet, they couldn’t find their way out, he should be used to not keeping the things he likes.

So why does it hurt so much?

-

“Derek—”

“No.”

“She needs—”

“Call someone else.”

“You are really going to leave her—”

Derek slams his book shut, kicks his chair back as he stands up. Cora’s eyes widen when someone tells him to be quiet and Derek simply ignores them. “I need to study for a test. Call someone else.”

Helping someone should feel good, it should make him happy, not feel like a burden. He is more than an angry guy with a strong body. He doesn’t even like confrontation. He started working out to burn his energy, to let out some of this anger that he’s been constantly carrying inside and he kept working out because he enjoyed it and now – now even that is ruined.

“Why are you being so selfish?” She asks and Derek knows, deep inside, that she doesn’t mean it like that, that she’s just as angry as him, humiliated by the fact he’s calling her out in the middle of the library. Still, that doesn’t matter now. Now, Derek is angry and sad and done.

“Fuck you.” He says and walks away.

-

His initial plan was to make it to his apartment, bury himself under the covers and not leave his room until his mother comes to give him an earful. Because she will, undoubtedly, when Cora tells her about it.

But Derek doesn’t make it to his apartment, he doesn’t even make it outside the library, simply makes a u-turn and heads for the dark zone, a space under the stairs leading to the storeroom where couples usually go to make out. There, he collapses on the ground, taking deep breaths, and buries his face in his hands.

This has been a long time coming, he thinks. He’s been on the edge for a while. This entire experience has made him remember how awful it was to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, to be only liked for his body or for his ability to pass the answers to the test without the teacher seeing him.

Some memories are hard to forget.

“Are you okay?” Derek flinches, surprised to hear Stiles’ voice. “Oh,” Stiles whispers, noticing Derek’s red eyes, the tears streaming down his face, “bad day, huh?”

“She was not my girlfriend.” Derek blurts out, head a mess of emotions: fear, anger, loneliness, regret.

“Dude,” Stiles frowns, confused, “I know Cora is your sister.”

“No.” Derek shakes his head, frantic. “The other day, at the coffee shop. I was helping her with her ex-boyfriend, I do that sometimes. He— he was an asshole and she needed help getting her cat back and I look strong and I know how to –”

“Woah, woah, slow down.” Stiles raises his hands, alarmed, and Derek realizes his own hands are shaking and he can’t breathe. “In and out,” Stiles whispers, “can I—can I touch you?”

Derek shakes his head, focusing on his breath. Panic attack, he remembers, suffocating. No touching. “Okay,” Stiles agrees, easily, “should I keep talking?” Derek shakes his head again, keeps his eyes on his hands. Talking is too much, listening is too much, breathing is too much. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Derek manages to gasp. He doesn’t want to be alone.

Stiles nods, leans against the wall next to Derek and starts fiddling with his shoelaces, twirling them around wordlessly. Derek doesn’t know how much time it passes, but he keeps watching Stiles’ fingers moving distractedly, patiently waiting for him. With him.

“I’m sorry.” Derek manages to say, eventually.

Stiles sighs. “I know.” He closes his own eyes before turning to Derek. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I—” Derek swallows heavily, “have to.” He answers, before shaking his head. No, that doesn’t sound right, “no, I—I want to.”

-

They leave the library together, Stiles standing up first and offering his hand to help Derek up. Stiles doesn’t let go as they walk towards Derek’s apartment, squeezes his hand from time to time as Derek tells him about everything.

“You could have told me.” Stiles notes.

“I don’t know why I didn’t.” Derek confesses. “I guess I didn’t want you to see me as that guy too. Beefy Derek.” He laughs, humorless. “That’s the nickname my sister came up with a few months ago.”

Stiles groans, stops walking, forcing Derek to stop as well. “You are so much more than that.” He assures, touching Derek’s face softly though his eyes shine with certainty. “I love your brain, your cute jokes, the fact that you get my stupid history facts because you like history just as much as I do, and especially the way you care so much. College, people, the world.” He pulls him in for a quick, assertive kiss, and Derek immediately feels so light he could fly. But he won’t, because Stiles is keeping him grounded by the softest touch, the smallest smile.

“Cute jokes?” He manages to ask, arching an eyebrow. When Stiles laughs, he smiles.

“They are.” He insists.

“Okay.” Derek accepts the words easily, because everything seems easy when it comes to Stiles. “If I ask you out on a new date,” he says, “will Lydia pepper spray me?”

“I will stop her.” Stiles reassures, squeezing his hand again. “But before,” he adds and Derek feels his stomach turning with anticipation, “you have to know that I kind of hate your sister right now.”

“Oh.” Derek says. “Okay, I can—I can see that.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Me too.” Derek agrees.

-

When Derek tells him about Cora’s apology and the earful his sister got from their mom, Stiles excuses himself to go laugh in the bathroom while Derek shrugs and goes back to eating his share of the pizza.

By the time they get married, Stiles and Cora have become best friends. Derek hates it (he doesn’t).

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Welcome To The Pack: Sinking Fangs

Summary- 10.2k Alpha Steve x You. Things have settled back on Pack Lands. Over a month has passed since you and Steve returned from Wakanda and now there is just one last thing to deal with to put the ordeal of your time with the Pierce Pack to rest, deal with Council Member Ross. Brock now has a new asset on hand and gives a preview of how efficient he is. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Violence, Killing, Sex. 

A/N- Wow, thank you all so much for reading this. Really it has been a passion project of mine, and Im so happy I could bring my wolves into the MCU verse. We are at the end of this story with Alpha Steve and the Little One. I hope it delivered all that you had hoped it would and enjoyed it as much as I have. Reading your comments and asks have meant more to me then you could possibly know. Happy Howling 🐺

 Chapter 9 (part 2) / Masterlist 

The chill tickled his senses and that was what woke Steve up that morning, his hand sweeping over the bed to find you not there, but your warmth was still clinging to the bed sheets. You haven’t been up for long. Rolling to his stomach, he moved to resettle, listening for where you might be in the cabin. But all was silent, all he could pick up was the drip-drip of the coffee maker in the kitchen, so you had been there just before, there was no rustle on the couch no sounds of your feet springing off the cabin's wood floor though. But the heavy autumn air did draw his attention to the wide-open door to the deck. Rolling up to rub at his face to waken further, Steve leaned down and grabbed sleep pants nearby to tug them on. He advanced on the deck and took a look around. 

The deck was frost-covered, as well as the towering pines housing the migrating songbirds sheltering overnight and that one grey squirrel that seemed to claim the back deck as his since you started feeding them. Steve’s eyes scanned for you, and the Wolf immediately picked up your warm scent, eyes dropping to see where the soles of your feet and toes had melted a trail across the frost covered deck. Following it, he went down the stairs to the lower deck that stretched out over the lake, and there you were, at the very end with an afghan wrapped around your shoulder, legs peeking out from underneath it. Steve could see where you were arched onto your toes to keep the rest of your feet from touching the frost covered wood. Getting a quicker spring to his step, Steve approached you from behind. 

“Y/N, what are you doing out here so early? You must be freezing.” His Wolf growled in agreement when you looked over your shoulder. Even as cold as you looked, your eyes were bright with excitement. “I heard geese overhead, and I wanted to see them flying south.” Once he reached you, his arms went around your waist and drew you back so that you would lean into him, your feet moving to step on top of his to protect them from the frostbitten boards and the fog coming off the lake so early in the morning. His head tilted up to look in the clear blue sky above, something about the cold made it look sharper. Sometimes he forgot that son of a bitch Pierce kept you locked up so long in his compound, like an animal in a zoo. 

You missed out on the way their world would shift between warm sunshine filled lazy days to everything preparing for a long sleep. The woods were now constantly rustling with animals seeking food to store away, leaves windblown loose to swirl in patterns before falling to the forest floor to provide shelter for the tree roots. Overhead the sky would be swarmed with birds, quick off the wing as they left for winter bound destinations. Ice would soon form on the lake edges, sending the lake dwellers down into the depths to wait out the winter. And right now, your head tipped back to watch the obnoxious geese as the massive birds flew in their arrow path, carrying them out of sight. 

“Winter will soon be here,” Steve said with a smile, for it was his favorite time of year. As wonderful as all the others were, the snow brought a serene calmness to The Pack. Letting the Wolves loose for days to run across the snow. It was a time his Beast was most at home in the world. The biting winds and harsh cold he was made for. While the forest snapped from the intense ice and cold, he tracked through it, laying claim to all that was his and reminding nearby packs that a strong Alpha and his wolves claimed this territory. Then for his human side, he had a warm cabin, and now his Little One filling his home and his bed. Steve finally felt that maybe things were falling into place. 

You turned to face him, wrinkling your nose at him. “You know who else will be here soon ? Ross.” You reminded him with a worried look and Steve gave a soft growl at the man’s name, a pain in his ass if there ever was one. He had put him coming off for well over the past couple months since you two had returned from Wakanda. But Tony finally pushed him for this meeting, to go over what had actually happened to Pierce’s pack, and You. Pack on pack violence wasn’t tolerated among the council, supposedly. So Steve needed to explain his reasons for attacking. It was all bullshit, considering what you went through alone. 

“Don’t remind me Little One.” Steve gave a huff, warm breath washing over your face as his head dropped, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply. “The sooner he leaves the better. Come on, now my feet are cold.” He chuckled and drew you away, and back up the stairs towards the house once more. 

The morning was a bit more tense than usual. Steve was quiet, you felt like his concentration was discussing matters with his Wolf, knowing he would have to keep himself under control with the Alphas coming into his territory. Initially, he was going to refuse this meeting, but Tony convinced him that it would be a show of good faith to the council if he allowed them access and actually explained what happened. The ex Pierce pack now belonged to Caine, who told the members the council sent what happened already. But Ross couldn’t let it go. Wanting to still hear from Steve. Finally, the Alpha relented, unsure if it was entirely the right thing, but it was done with. He wasn’t one to back down from his word. 

“You still going up to the yard?” You asked cautiously, knowing Steve was a bit all over the place, and his head lifted at your voice, checking his watch. 

“Yea, guess I better get up there if I want to get at least one truck off to the mill.” He drained his mug and set it in the sink, grabbing his jacket as he drew up to you. “Shoot me a text if anything happens while I’m up the mountain.” His fingers grasped your chin and placed a kiss on your lips, you nodded with an encouraging smile. 

“Of course Steve.” You nudged at him and tilted for one more coffee stained kiss from him, and when he left, you listened to his heavy footfalls take him down the porch and then moments later one of the pickups at the garage start-up. Once he was gone, you moved to settle on the couch, pulling your phone out to call Natasha. This had become the morning routine, once Steve headed out, you checked in with the Red Wolf. 

After a few moments, Natasha picked up, you could see here setting her phone up on a nightstand before going back to packing up a duffel bag. 

“Hey, you coming home for a bit?” you asked hopefully. She had been gone since she left you and Steve in Wakanda, and only heard from her now and then till you started to actively video chat her once a day. If she would pick up the phone that was. Some days when she answered it would be from a car while driving, a motel room, middle of the street. And the days she didn't, you weren't sure if you wanted to know where she was holed up in her search for the missing pack members.

“No, not yet, I picked up another lead last night, and about to go check it out.” 

“Natasha, Steve wouldn't be upset if you came home. It's been weeks and every trail you come across leads to a dead end.” You say into your phone while propping it on the coffee table. 

“No, I'm sure of it this time. He really fits Bucky’s description. Tall, dark hair, slight limp to his walk. Sounded like he passed through town.” Natasha sounded hopeful. So many times Natasha was sure she finally found Bucky, and it always led to a dead end.

“Was there anyone else with him?” You questioned, and her face got a bit crestfallen, shaking it slowly. 

“No, nothing about the others. Has Laura said anything about Clint contacting her?” 

Another shake of the head no. “Nothing, no one has seemed to hear anything. Steve’s even been reaching out to other packs. Someone named Fury is coming soon, he works for the Council, and is going to try to help figure out where they went.” 

Natasha’s green eyes widened a bit. “Fury? Well damn, Uh, how did Steve feel about that?” your eyes narrowed at your packmate, yes you were still fairly new, and was reminded of that in moments like these. 

“From what I understand, Steve called him himself. Why? What do I not know?” You questioned, and Natasha shrugged. 

“You know Steve, he's not on board with the whole Wolf Packs need to be “policed” like the council wants to do. But Fury, he's one of the better ones. Kinda walks his own line, you know? Steve worked with him way before he was an Alpha, at an agency called Shield.”

This piqued your interest, even your Little Wolf stirred, cause Steve rarely talked about his past. “What was Shield?”

Natasha searched the drawers one last time while she remained talking. “Oh it was Wolves trained in special skills, usually combative and logistics. They would be dispatched into problem areas for wolves and humans alike, working with the military. Bucky was a part of it as well. Their team was called the Howling Commandos.” Natasha snapped the drawers shut, and went to sit on the bed, picking up the phone. “Course this was way back when. I'm a bit surprised Steve hasn’t talked about it?” 

“No, but honestly Steve doesn't talk much about his past.” You worried your lip a bit and the Little Wolf brushed against your mind. 

<He will talk about it when he's ready.>

Natasha gave a shrug. “He will sometime, Steve’s time with his ex wasn’t easy. He probably just wants to forget some of that. With your help.” Natasha smirked at you, and you gave her a roll of your eyes, your Little Wolf snickering in agreement with your friend. “Have you thought about making it all official?” She eased out the question, and you wish you could give a resounding yes. You had considered asking Steve many times about it since you two have returned home. 

But something held you back, the idea of being connected to someone mind and body scared you in a way that seemed so unreasonable considering you and your Little Wolf knew you wouldn't ever want another Mate. Steve assured you many times that he would share that bond with you, but only when you asked for it, and never pushed or made you feel guilty like you should ask. Plus the way you and Steve were right now, it was comfortable and content, you hated the thought of asking for more and ruining the rhythm of happiness you found with each other, even though in Wakanda you were more than ready. 

“I know Steve would the second I asked him, it's me waiting. After living with Pierce for so long, Nat honestly it scares me. If Steve connected, I would belong to him. I know he wouldn’t do anything I wasn't okay with, but knowing he could. Fuck that just scares me.”

“Y/N, does he even know you feel this way?” Natasha asked softly and you shook your head. “Talk to him Y/N, Steve will want to know what you are thinking.” 

Your Little Wolf curled around in your mind, growling softly. <She’s right, we should communicate with our Alpha.>

“Think about it Y/N, you open up, maybe Steve will as well.” Natahsa grabbed her duffel and shouldered it. “Listen, I will be home soon, okay? Don’t worry about me, I'm used to being out on my own quite a bit.” 

“Doesn't mean we don’t still worry.” you chuckled softly and gave a wave into the phone screen. “Talk to you tomorrow Nat. Bye.” 

After hanging up, you settled back into the couch thinking over yours and Natasha’s discussion with the bond. Maybe it was time to bring it up with Steve, about why you were hesitant. 

Maybe he’s hesitant to? I know he has offered but-

<But nothing Y/N, his past is his past and even with the bond, he can choose not to share it. You know some things still stay private unless you choose to share them. Same goes with Steve and his Wolf. Besides… you're not just a little curious about before he was Alpha?> 

Of course I am, I just never really brought it up. 

The Little Wolf huffed out in frustration and shook out her fur as she moved to a stretch. <You have wanted it since before I came home, you were just waiting for me to come back.>

How do you know about that? 

<Cause I was never actually gone, just trapped.> she responded, starting to trot away from the front of your awareness with a whisk of your tail. <Now it's simply fear holding you back. The Alpha deserves to know.> 

You huffed a bit at your wolf being so dismissive. Pushing up off the couch, and going back to the bedroom to go get ready for the arrival of Ross to the pack. 

Up on the mountain, the lot was just finishing up, Steve waiting with hands on his hips, watching as Sam worked the Skid Cat to load the last of the logs on. Once the last one was on, he pulled himself up the side and started working on strapping them down for transport when Sam parked the skid cat nearby, and hopped down to go join Steve. Pulling himself up the other side, both men working quietly tightening the straps till everything was safe to be taken down the mountain. 

“Your awful quiet today Man.” Sam finally broke the ice while twisting to take a seat at the top of the pile, Steve making a similar move to sit next to him. 

“Lot on my mind I guess.” He pulled off his heavy duty work gloves, and slapped them down beside him.

“This to do with Ross or Y/N?” Sam questioned while falling back to his palms planted on the log behind him, relaxing for a moment. 

“A bit of both. Ross, I'm just ready to get him off Pack Land.” Steve admitted, and the Wolf growled lowly at the mention of the man's name. “Y/N, were good and starting to feel comfortable, and settled after everything from this summer. But is this what she wants for sure?” 

<Course it is, our mate is happy Steve.> The Wolf pinned back his ear at the humans worries, sighing. 

Sam listened and gave a nod. “I remember feeling that way with Sara when we first started. ‘Was she happy, would she want this to be her life.’ Nerve wracking. I wanted to ask her, but fuck I was scared that she was gonna tell me it was temporary.” Sam flashed a grin. “Then I sucked it up, and brought it up one night. Damn, she jumped me in all of two seconds, told me I was an idiot and that she wasn't going anywhere.” Sam chuckled at the memory, and Steve gave his own amused laugh. “Anyways, I had nothing to be worried about, and I don't think you do either. Y/N looks at you man with those god damn heart eyes all the time whenever she catches a whiff of you. And Ross, I know you're not happy about it. I'm glad i'm not in your position right now.”

Steve rolled his eyes at him. “Thanks Sam.” 

“But you're gonna sail through it, tell Ross what happened, he's just being a prick cause you're not rushing to sign his accords.” Sam moved then to push off, sliding back down to the ground, and motioning to the truck's cab. When one Alpha refuses, others will not be afraid to say they agree. He’s afraid of more Alphas and packs agreeing with you. Come on Alpha, you're stalling. Let's get our shit finished, your best friend gonna be here soon.” 

Steve grabbed his gloves and jumped down, growling at Sam. “You're an ass.” while stuffing his gloves in his back pocket and yanking the door open to get in. 

“It’s a gift I’ve worked on for years.” Sam grinned, grabbing the walkie talkie and listening for the static. “Steve and I are taking the last load, clean up guys.” Once he got the confirmation, he got in, and Steve put the truck in drive and headed down the mountain. 

It wasn’t long till Steve was once more pulling into the Packs compound and it hit him as soon as he opened the door. The Alpha himself bristled in Steve’s mind scenting the other Alphas on his land, and he had to push the Wolf back from the front of his consciousness, the beast set off by not just one outside Alpha, but two. Sam coming out the other side, side eyed Steve a moment to make sure he didn't lose control because he saw the situation before Steve did. Sam was well aware the moment Steve saw them, just from the growl that raised from the depths of his chest in a menacing tone before dying down. 

On HIS porch, with HIS mate was Ross, Tony, and a female. Steve was unsure of who it was, but he was more focused on three wolves surrounding you that were outsiders. Heavy handed, he slammed the truck door shut, and all heads turned towards him to see him stalking towards his porch. 

Tony immediately moved to a stand, clapping his hands together. “And there's the old boy now! We were just about to go up the mountain to find you Steve.” Ross gave a cold nod in agreement, and the woman sitting next to him, Steve finally recognized Ross's assistant, Judy. Steve’s gaze shifted hotly from the wolves to you, taking you in. You seemed relax, one leg crossed over another, your hand wrapped around a coffee mug, and everything in you seemed to say that you were comfortable yet alert. Immediately as soon as you saw him looking at you with such an intense look, you set your cup aside, and eased to a stand, bushing past Judy and going down the stairs to reach your Alpha, smiling in that welcome home way. 

Immediately Steve loped an arm around you and pressed his lips to your temple with a whispered hushed tone just for you. “Everything okay?” you hummed a yes, exchanging the sentiment with a nuzzle to his shoulder before turning back to your waiting guests. 

“They just arrived minutes before you and Sam, Alpha.” You say cheerfully, the other three following you off the porch and standing around. You can feel Steve against you, not growling, but the vibrations of silent rumbles shifted through him. Your hand lightly slides under the back of his shirt to press against his lower back, and you feel him calm down, a deep inhale clearing his mind. 

“I was expecting you all much later, and I have a business to run, orders to be placed and people to keep employed within the compound and from the town below. But I’m here now, shall we go inside to talk?” Steve offered with an extended hand towards his front door. Ross once more seemed to look at Steve with disdain, making the Little Wolf in you bristle at the rudeness to your Alpha, but Steve chose to ignore it so you did as well. Judy though was another matter, the woman standing just to the other side of Ross with her tablet for notes, and she seemed to be eyeing Steve in a whole other way. A way that made you self conscious that he didn't have your bite showing any other unmated wolves he was committed. It made your jaw ache as you clenched it shut, your Little Wolf pacing now, panting slightly being on edge.

<She's a threat, I can smell her desire.> The Little Wolf's ears swept back flat against her skull, yellow eyes sharp as they watched Judy flaunt a bit in front of Steve, flashing her neck with sweeps of her hair over her shoulder and lowering her gaze in a way that wasn't necessary for anyone other than her Alpha or Mate. Now that Steve was here, you could smell the change in her, the heated desire this woman had for him. Steve must have felt you tense, cause his hand flexed on your hip and fingers pressed in the curve. 

She is only a threat if we allow her to be. Your attention turned away from her back to Tony and Ross. 

"Yes let's finish up with this." Ross snapped a bit and proceeded up the stairs. 

 As they headed inside, Steve dipped his head to Sam to whisper in his ear. Sam nodded at whatever Steve had said and stepped away from the group. You watch as he leaves, until Steve's touch pushes you gently up the stairs, wanting to keep you with him during this. You embrace for going inside, assaulted by the scent of all the extra people, but the one that was really irritating you the most was Judy. Who flung her hair once more over her shoulder, showing off the slim column of her neck. 

Your teeth bared slightly, although you flashed her a smile, digging for a hair tie in your pocket. “Here, your hair seems to be bothering you.” you held out the offending tie to her and she looked at your hand with a slight wrinkle of her nose, and plucked it from your fingers. 

“Thanks.” she muttered, but was quick to walk away from you. You noticed she flung your hair tie back on the kitchen island counter and stuck to Ross’s side while they settled on the couch. Judy’s nose dropped to her tablet, suddenly very busy. 

Not a threat but she's annoying as hell. Steve isn't even paying her any attention. You stated confidently to you Little Wolf as Steve dropped a kiss to your shoulder while going to the bar to pour some tumblers of the Wakandian liquor to offer the guests. 

“Be careful, it's strong.” he said as he passed it to Ross, Tony and Sharon. The last two he kept for you and him, once he settled in his leather chair, you perched on the arms chair allowing Steve to keep a possessive hand on your thigh. You sip it, licking your bottom lip afterward to clear the droplets collected and smirked to yourself when Steve’s fingers flexed and dug into your muscle before loosening again. 

<His…>

Yes we are. You thought while sipping the strong liquor once more. 

Tony, you noticed, was well aware of what Steve had given him and took a tentative sip. Ross though, shot back a heavy swallow, and started sputter and grabbing a kerchief from his pocket. “Christ Rogers, what was that?”

“It's Wakadian Liquor, courtesy of King T’Challa. So, what is it you want, Senator Ross? You felt the need to come all the way to my Pack to discuss my packs matters?” 

Ross set his glass to the side, and your gaze followed to see that he completely missed the coaster, and your eyes flashed in irritation at his ignorant behaviour. 

“Well as you know, the council over the American Wolves don't condone pack on pack violence. I understand the unique situation with Pierces ex lone wolf.” Ross said, gesturing towards you. 

Steve snapped forward in his seat, a warning growl rising from him. “Her name is Y/N, and I accepted her as part of the Mountain Pack the day she arrived. She was never a lone wolf or lived in the no man's land. Y/N was on the run, for her life. Running from a mad Alpha looking to sell her. She was a victim, she didn't choose to cross boundaries. Treat her as such.” 

To be called a lone wolf insinuated you had abandoned your pack and disrespected your Alpha. A wolf gone rogue and living between pack lines was a dangerous wolf, traveling to find a new pack was acceptable. But to live entirely feral,was rare and often those beasts went a little mad, losing their sense of human side.  

Tony rubbed at his face, easy to tell that the two Alphas were going to start bristling at one another, and interrupted with a slightly cheerful voice. “Okay gentleman, let's be sure we keep to the purpose here.” 

Ross nodded, this time taking a much more careful sip of his drink. “I apologize Y/N. I'm not unsympathetic to your situation.” He stated towards you, which you nodded slightly in acceptance while Steve thrummed his fingers against your thigh, impatient now. “As I was saying, there are proper procedures we must take to investigate Pierce and properly hold him accountable. Now, he’s dead. And he can't pay for his crimes. So Alpha…” Ross snapped out. “What prompted you to take those measures without notifying the Council.” 

Steve slid his arm around your hip while leaning forward, moving to sit on the edge of his seat, instinctively you felt the Aloha growing angered, and slid from the arm of the chair onto his knee. You could feel his coiled muscles underneath you and you leaned back enough to feel his chest pressing partially against your back. “What prompted me, Senator Ross? The fact that Y/N had to come seeking safety while being hunted. Trackers crossed my lines, uninvited, went into my house, uninvited and tried to abduct Y/N.” Steve inhaled deeply, dragging your scent to calm his Wolf down before continuing. “Then I am told about unmated wolves being held captive and sold to the highest bidder, against their consent. But none of that matters, right Ross? Leave it to the council to sit on their asses waiting for something more? How about this, Pierce threatened to attack my pack.” Steve shifted back, easing you both back. “I went to him instead, offered to talk first. It didn't end that way. I'm not going to have any of my family threatened, especially when from what I've been told, the council had all this information and more on file. And YOU all were still waiting? For what?” Steve challenged back. 

Ross glared at Tony before clearing his throat. “I don't know where you might have heard that information, but I can assure you Steve that the council has nothing but all Packs welfare in mind. That's why we were made in the first place. 

“Enough!” Steve snapped his teeth behind you. “I see now that the Council was made to try to control the Packs, do away with the need for Alphas. That's what this is about right? I refuse to sign your Accords, and by me not doing so, you have other packs who are also refusing. The matter with Pierce is just showing how fucking sloppy you all are, half ass work, rather watch until its the prime opportune moment to make the Council look good.” Steve snarled out, jostling you a bit in his lap as his arm tightened around you, probably unconsciously at this moment because his anger was starting to roll from him. 

“You're severely misjudging the Council Rogers, and although your opinions of us are not unknown, I say you best be watching what you say. You originally were for it, and we're still doing good for everyone, even if it's behind the scenes. Just because you and your Wolf got all tripped up saving a bitch in distress and breaking the Law.”

You felt Steve surge behind you, but you were quicker this time, your Little Wolf raging enough that your eyes flashed yellow barely containing her now. “You are in the Alphas house Senator, shut your fucking mouth if you cant be civil!” you snapped out, looming over the seated man when you pulled out of Steve’s hold. He went to stand, and you pushed him back to sit on the couch, Judy next to him giving a yelp in surprise, and you snarled at her enough for her to pull back into Ross.  You turned into Tony next, who threw up his hands in surrender. “Stark I like you, you helped Steve and I when we needed it most. But how dare you bring this man to our home.” Your hand waved over Ross. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry… “ Tony started genuinely but you cut him off, turning towards Ross, your anger still on the surface. You felt Steve move up behind you, but he never tried stopping you. 

“And You,” you inhaled deeply and growled as you exhaled. “You left us there to be tortured and abused. You left Pierce out of control, for what? More evidence? Know how many times Pierce tried to sell me off? Do you want the details of how that happens? I can fucking show you for your files. I know you saw his wall of skins. How many you think he did that to while your precious fucking council was waiting? You know how many he skinned alive?” At this Steve rested his hands on your shoulder, angry tears welling up that you wiped away furiously before continuing. “I remember every single one of them begging for mercy, their howls and screams. It will never go away.” All three of them listened while horror crossed their faces. “Steve, listened to the bare minimum of it all and knew it couldn't continue. So don't ever, EVER come here again trying to accuse the Alpha of anything other than saving the rest of our lives.” You took a deep breath, and your glare fell on your last victim. Judy saw you snap towards her, and she shrunk into the cushions, her hands shaking a bit as she dropped her head to look away from you. “And you know that I'm with Alpha, bite or not. All the neck flashing and bare minimum presenting yourself as a possible mate does nothing but make you look like a fool Woman. I'm assuming you think you're going places working for Ross. Sweetheart, find a new Alpha to work for.” You could feel yourself getting closer to losing control and you straightened, your back slamming into Steve just behind you, and his hands tightened on your hips to steady you. 

“I think my Little One said everything she needed to Ross. Leave, get off my pack’s land and don't ever show your face here again, you are not welcome.” Steve said quietly, the tone dripping with anger and a threat. 

“Now Rogers…” Ross tried again to make his point across while Tony and Sharon both went to stand and remove themselves. Steve roared out from behind you, and you hitched your chin up in your resolve. “NOW!” From outside came threatening howls from around the cabin, a clear sign that they were no longer welcome, and Ross snapped to a stand, straightening his jacket. 

“We're leaving, but mark my words Rogers this isn't over. There's the matter of your missing pack mates. Know where your trusted White Wolf is?” Ross snarled, and Steve started to make a move to lunge at Ross when Tony started to push them out. 

“Were going Steve, Y/N, Pepper says hi.” Tony shoved them both out the doors, and from the glance you saw, several wolves were lounging in front of your cabin, Sam being right on the stairs and Sara just below him. Sam remained impassive, just his ears perking at the opening of the door. Sara though rolled her muzzle to flash her fangs at the trio descending the stairs. 

Sam followed them down with Sara pacing right along with him, all three hurried to their parked vehicle as other wolves followed along. Several other packmates flowed silently into the treeline bordering the road that would lead them off the grounds. 

As the vehicle sped, they were followed with howls all along the driveway, going for several miles, keeping track of where the intruders were. You and Steve remained listening, relaxing a little more the further they got. Steve's hold was loose around you and his head dropped to nip kisses against your neck, breathing in against you while you and the Little Wolf listened with perked ears until Sam and Sara both announced with their own howl the threat was gone. You sagged in against his chest, for a moment and tipped your head back to look up at him. 

“I could have ripped his throat out.” You rumbled, and Steve looked down with a slight amused look on his face when he rubbed your stomach under your shirt, feeling yourself clench under his hands. 

“I know Little One, apparently they lit a fire in you.” A hand wrapped around your neck to slip up to your jaw, tilting your head to the side so he could drag teeth along your neck and followed by the soft warmth of his tongue. Your adrenaline was quickly shifting from anger to lust and desire. “Seeing you get protective was fucking hot Little One. I could fuck you so hard right now.” He bared his teeth against your wayward pulse. Everything about Steve screamed danger for others, for you it was exhilarating, the slight squeeze on your neck left you whimpering as you clenched your thighs together. “Get in our bed Little One, now.” He released you and you spun to face him, grasping his face to lick over his lips and biting that bottom one with a tug while his hand snapped sharply across your ass to send you on your way inside. 

Steve followed you in and watched you disappear down the hallway before he turned to lock the front door. Gritting his teeth as he leaned his forehead, feeling the Wolf shift through him with hunger for you, he was already rock hard when you lit right into Ross, Tony and Judy. Now the need to claim you was overriding all his other desires for you. Snapping back from the door, he stalked down the hallway, his nose lifted to follow your scent. Which built a hunger in his lower gut. 

He was raging hard, everything said that you ached, wet heat for him to get lost in. And when he stopped in the doorway, he saw you kneeling in the middle of the bed, arching yourself while your hands traveled to your back to unclasp your bra. Steve didn't even give you a chance. 

He couldn't help it, he was on you, his hands pulling you in closer to the edge, and a snap of his fingers against your back and sliding his hand around your ribs, he pulled the bra off your front to sharply inhale, catching the sight of you blinking up at him with those wide eyes shimmering back and forth between you and the Little Wolf. Hands moving to cup your breasts, thumbs flickering over the round pebbled tips while descending to claim your mouth, riding you down till you were smothered underneath him on the bed, caging you effectively underneath him. “Fuck you drive me wild Little One.” 

You could feel his teeth sink into your shoulder to keep you still and make you hiss out “Isn’t that my job?” which made Steve bite just a bit harder and make you growl while arching just a bit. Your hands fisted in the soft cotton of his tee and started to shred it till you could pull it away while his hands had your hips pinned in place, slotting a knee in between your spread thighs to grind the hard muscle into your cunt, which had your jolting underneath him. 

Once you got rid of his shirt, yanking the last of what was left over his head that he had to lift himself away from where he was marking you, you rubbed your aching cunt against his thigh again, dragging your nails down his muscled back while arching underneath him, seeking out that friction of his body against yours. 

Steve’s hand snaked once more around your neck, slamming you back into the pillows so he could look down at you, panting as inhaling you wasn't enough, he wanted to taste you, breath you in and get lost in the intoxication that made up you. “Flip over, to your knees Little One.” Leaning over you and brushing his lips against yours while you gave kitten licks to his lips, opening to let his tongue fill your mouth in a hungry kiss for one another. Steve couldn't contain the snarl of need erupting from him, the twitch of his cock constrained in tight jeans. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down while digging in, maring the spanse of his back in deep red welts. You gasped out when he moved down to suck his mark on your neck. “Steve, you gotta let me move.” you chuckled, pointing out the obvious. Steve had you effectively captured underneath him. 

The Alpha gave a warning nip to your pulse before pulling away, smirking down at you. “Sassy Little Wolf.” His palms slapped against your ass cheeks, digging his fingers in and pushing you off his knee. “One more time, flip over and let me see just how wet and needy you are Little One.”  Steve commanded, and pulled back while you twisted to your stomach, his hands sliding along your sides, and grasping your layers remaining to jerk them down over your ass and off your legs. 

Finishing with unbuckling his belt and sliding pants down while your ass swung back and forth to get yourself in position for your Alpha, breathing out deeply while dropping your head to the mattress. You could hear his hungry groan as he moved in behind you, his hands cupping the soft globes, spreading them so nothing was possibly hidden from him. You sighed feeling the cool air brush against your heated swollen cunt, and snuck a peek over your shoulder to see Steve biting on his lip, his eyes hungry while his cock pressed against the lower part of his stomach, dripping from his own desires. A finger trailed along your weeping cunt, sliding so easily into your channel, even when you tightened around him, dropping your head against the mattress once more with a pleading whimper. “Alpha please.” 

Steve stroked your fluttering and clutching walls, his finger slick with your want, and he easily stretched you open with another finger. His other hand smoothed up your back, and grasped the back of your neck, long fingers grasping around the column and dragging you up so that you were leaning on your elbow, your head tipped back to look up. 

“So pretty for me my Little One, taking my fingers so good.” He gave a stroke against the soft spongy spot that made you clench around him, breathing in deeply as he dropped his forehead against the center of your back, breathing out to keep himself under control as his muscles rippled under taunt skin. You started whimpering and mewling whenever his calloused fingertips sunk back into you, snapping your back while pushing back to meet his movements. “Your Alpha is going to fill you up, leave you dripping with my cum so everyone knows who you belong to.” 

Fuck you wanted that, wanted him so hard and deep in you that you would ache moving the next day, that his claim would be all over your skin, bruises from his mouth, and his seed rubbed in till it was all you could scent, leaving you dripping with need. “Please Alpha, make me yours.” you panted, and started clenching around his fingers, the coils in your belly threatening to snap. Twisting your head to muffle into the mattress, you started crying out and curling your toes while Steve started to run his tongue up your back till his chest was draped over your back, nuzzling the back of your neck with soft growls while pressing his words into your soft skin with kisses and sharp nips. 

“Come on my fingers and I will give it to you.” tilting his head and sinking his teeth in enough to hold you still while you let go, his fingers dragging out your orgasm until you wanted to sink into the bed in bliss. “Nu uh uh, Little One.” Steve removed his fingers from your clenching core to hold your hip up, pushing up to take the weight off your back. “Im not done with you yet.” He assured you while you dragged in deep breaths and gave a nod. “That's my good girl, my perfect Little One.” Grasping his base, he dragged his swollen weeping cocks head through your swollen folds, tapping against your clit to make you jolt while he pressed against your entrance. Tight as you were, when he started to press into you, he was able to slide right in, burying himself to the hilt, and you flexed around him with your own groan underneath him, biting against a pillow to muffle yourself. Steve's hand moved to press against your stomach, feeling himself thrust into you, a jolt of his hips rocking you. 

“Fuck Little One.” He growled and you pushed to your elbows, flexing yourself around him. A few shallow strokes went faster and harder, his hands holding your hips in place to keep him from driving you into the mattress. Steve felt so heavy and full in you and around you, it was taking your willpower to keep from falling apart feel each demanding thrust into you, but you met him back, your hands digging into the sheets and your head tipped back to get lost in the sensation of Steve claiming your body, every hitting thrust into your cunt breaking down those walls of doubt just a bit more. There wasn't going to be anyone you could want like this, except for Steve. Even now in the midst of taking you as his, he was still taking care of you, above you was him grunting out praises in how good you were to him, a hand dipped in between your legs, and rolled your clit to bring you maximum pleasure. 

In the midst of this, the need to belong to him flooded you. More then the endorphins sex brought, but genuine resolve that you were ready for it, all that belonging to the Alpha would bring. You couldn't imagine not being here with Steve, and not just these moments, but all of them. The good and bad, you would remain at his side should he want you, and you wanted his immense strength to lean on as well. You finally managed to gasp out from the pleasured haze “Steve, Do it… Claim me, make me yours.” 

Steve faltered over you, his hand flexing on your hips when he thought he heard you tell him to give you the bite, to officially claim you as his own. He clenched his jaw to keep from sinking a hold into you. It was a struggle for a second to keep the Alpha from taking over, he collapsed over you, pressing you down into the mattress, and hissing against your shoulder. “Little One, you want the bite?” His tongue dragged over your ear while you whimpered underneath him, nodding while twisting your head to the side to see him. 

“I'm ready Steve, I know Im yours.” You whispered, Steve’s gaze scanned you, from your swollen kissed lips from earlier to fluttering eyelids, but your eyes kept contact with his, nodding again to affirm that is what you wanted with him. Pushing up to his hands, he placed a deep kiss to the crook of your neck with a deep inhale against you, committing your scent of sweet honeysuckle and arousal to memory. A scent he would never get tired of. Pulling back further he eased his aching cock from you, leaving you lifting your head in question, a slight panic in your voice that he was leaving you. “Steve-” 

“It's okay, Little One, turn around. I want us to do this together.” His hands smoothed over your hips, and along the scars on your back till his hands folded over your shoulders and eased you back to kneel, your back pressing against your chest. “I got you Little One.” He nuzzled against your neck where he always favored, ever since he was first with you. Flicks of his tongue and press of his lips made your racing heart start to ease. 

Reaching behind you to press your fingers through his hair at the back of his head and tug on it to lift him from your neck. You hum gently while easing around to face Steve and cup his face in your hands to crash your lips to his, gliding tongues and teeth. You both tilted into the kiss to deepen it while Steve rode you to your back, his hands planted on each side of your head and his mouth traveled to the corner of your mouth to your jawline, a nudge of his nose had you tilting your head to the side so he could drag his tongue over your pulse and leaving his scent on you. “You sure this is what you want Little One?” He growled, and you squirm underneath him to wrap your legs around his waist with a nod. 

“I- We have never been more sure of anything before Steve.” you whispered and when he lifted his head to meet your eyes, you tilted your nose up to bump against his, your fingers remaining tangled in his hair. “I love you and want everyone to know it.” Your fingers slid down his neck and rubbed against his shoulders before gliding along his biceps. 

“I love you to Little One.” he shifted to one arm to grasp your hand, weaving his fingers with yours, then to the other with the same action. Steve eased himself forward to slide back into you, feeling you gasp and arch underneath him feeling him thick and full inside of you, the slow roll of his hips, dragging him back and forth. “Fuck Alpha…” You buried your face in against his arm as you rolled back to meet him. “What should I expect?” you whimper, flexing your fingers against his. 

Steve nipped lightly against your neck and you tipped your head back for him. He growled softly while lapping at your skin, rolling once more to fill you, press deeper to connect you two. “A complete connection Little One, we will feel one another with strong emotions even when we're apart.” another nip, and another sigh as your nerves flared with anticipation. “We won't have to be shifted for our wolves to be together.” Another promising nip and ghosting of lips against the hollow of your neck, sucking a mark there as he sped up his hips, grunting as he held back the desire to cum inside of you at that moment. “Are you ready for that Little One?” Steve asked, not willing to go through with it if you were having second thoughts. 

You were overwhelmed with love for the man claiming you, and you tightened around him, drawing him in closer. With his barely held control, it made him growl with his next thrust. “Mark me Steve Rogers.” A flash of your neck made his eyes flare yellow in the moment, and he dropped to scent against your neck. 

When he found the spot he wanted, one that was his favorite place to bury his face into because it was soft and warm, everything you were in his life, his tongue soothed over it, and a soft growl to prepare you rolled through his chest before his teeth laid claim, breaking through your skin. You immediately arched into him, curling yourself around his body with a pleasured scream. It left your Little Wolf howling while you came from the intense pleasure, and his body surged forward to keep your orgasm rolling through you in waves. It felt like fire and ice burned from your clenching core, and laced your body with licks of contrast, making you wither and hold onto Steve more. You sought out Steve's firmness to keep from losing yourself, and your head buried in against his shoulder, breaking a pleasured sob into the muscle. His hand broke from yours and cupped the back of your head, each surge rocking you into your mate. The urge to return the bite overcame you, and on his shoulder you laid your own mark, which sent Steve spiraling over the edge. His hips started to stutter to a stop while he buried his seed into you, groaning as he sunk over you. 

The explosion in your mind was another pleasure all its own, leaving you seeing spots in your vision even when you had your eyes screwed shut and your hand not pinned down with his hand, was wrapped around Steve’s side, clutching yourself to him till there wasn't any space between both of your sex blissed bodies. 

Your Little Wolf was tentative in the new connection you and Steve shared, lowering to her belly waiting to see if the Alpha would come, and sure enough the silver Alpha nudged against her, the Little Wolf rolling and nipping under his chin while rubbing against him with excited whines and yips. 

You could feel him, not in the same way you felt your own Little Wolf, but the sensation was thrilling. Steve was the first to let go, gentle with a rub of his hand along your hip and a soothing caress of his tongue against your broken skin to clean off the blood the bite brought. He groaned at the warm iron taste. You unclench your jaw and let go as well, placing a kiss against the mark while sliding your hand up and down his back gently which was still rippling under your fingertips, tracing the marks you left on him gently. “I can feel your wolf Steve.” you whisper in his ear, and Steve lifted his chest off yours, tucking himself up on his elbows, his hands cupping your face, and thumbs gliding over your cheeks, smiling down at you. 

“I feel her to Y/N, she's as much a part of me as he is of you.” Tipping his head to catch your lips, he circled an arm around your waist while pulling up, bringing you with him till you were straddled against his lap while wrapping your arms around his neck to stay in place. Steve couldn't stop his hands from gliding over your curves, the smooth skin along your lower back and over the swell of your hips and down along your thighs. You tentatively touch your neck, feeling the raised heated skin from where Steve bit you, your fingertips tracing the indents where his teeth sunk in. “Do you want to go see it YN?” Steve asked as he grasped your hips, ready to ease you off him now that he was no longer knotted in you, and was safe for you to move. 

“Yea, I want to see it, this is the first bite that was my choice, I want to admire it.” You gave a shy grin, and Steve felt a burst of satisfaction in his chest. You were so happy in this moment, and he was effectively feeling it as well. Easing you off his lap and you tumbled out of the bed, to approach the dresser mirror, lifting your hair back to see where Steve claimed you as his. 

In the mirror, Steve could see your face break into a smile, placing your palm over it. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and you twisted on your toes to approach him. Spreading his thighs for you to step through, he let his hands slide up the back of your thighs while your own fingers slid through his hair and down till your palms pressed against the underside of his jaw, tilting his face to look up at you. “Thank you for choosing me Alpha.” 

Steve's fingers dug into the back of your thighs. “I would choose you again and again my Omega.” for the first time, he labeled you as his other half, the omega wolf to his alpha wolf. In the connection, you both could hear your wolves singing your bonding song. 

“Oh it's going excellent, the asset was well worth the wait.” Brock smirked into the phone as he looked in the large cell used to contain their weapon. “Hold on, I will show you how efficient he is.” Turning the phone around, he tilted the phone so the camera could face into the cell, and he barked out an order. “Go get that Stark man… the one they call Happy. Let the Winter Wolf have some fun with him.” Quickly the hydra agent he ordered went to collect their victim while Brock continued to speak into the phone. “It took a while to break him in but once we did, we unleashed a killer. I had no idea he even had it in him, and makes me wonder now if Rogers has that in him as well. They were trained in the same unit.” Brock heard the scuffle of footsteps behind him, and he swung open the cell door to shove Happy inside, sending him spiraling against the cement floor. With a clang, the door slammed shut and Happy pushed himself off the dirty ground, looking for any way to get out. 

“Rumlow, you know this is foolish, Tony will never let this go.” he grunted as he turned towards the bars. Rumlow crossed his arms over his chest, and smirked coldly. 

“You think Stark scares me any? Bigger picture Happy. Tony is nothing, an Alpha coming to the end of his time. Along with all the other packs across the country. That council shit they all live by will be brought down.” 

“Your fucking crazy Brock, I always knew it.” Happy growled softly, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. “Steve was right to take over your Pack.” 

Brock gave a laugh, banging on the bars to make Happy jump. “Rogers, don't worry I have something just for him. Right now your time is up.” He backed up a bit and re-directed the camera. “Let the asset out.” 

There was a clank behind Happy, and he spun around, reaching up to tug at the collar preventing him being able to shift. Fear flooded him with a sour bitter taste in his mouth, cause he could sense the danger coming for him, still hidden in the shadows. Happy’s Wolf was chained, but his fear made him struggle against the magic binding him with panicked whimpers, while Happy tried his best to see where the attack would come from. A loud snarl echoed from the room and Happy backed into a corner, trying to get as far away as possible now, giving his own warning to stay back. “Get back!” he panted in panic, still now knowing exactly where the beast would be coming from. The large White Wolf padded out, his yellow eyes honed in on Happy while licking his jaws with a bright pink roll of his tongue. “Bucky, fuck we know each other.” Happy tried pleading. Brock behind him burst into a laugh, remarking. “That isn't Bucky, not anymore.” The White Wolf flickered his ears back and forth, studying the quivering man before him and Brock’s almost bored tone filled the silence. “Ubiystvo” Kill. 

It all happened so fast, just enough time for Happy to throw up his hands to try to block his throat, and a streak of white became a mauling set of jaws and rage filled snarls rose over Happy's screams while it tore into him, teeth cutting into flesh and snapping through bones. Within seconds the White Wolf got to his throat and gave a whiplashing shake of his victim, crashing his body against the bars, Happy went limp and dropped to the ground as blood flooded pristine white fur, and red seeped to pool around the wolf’s paws. Brock couldn't help the grin plastered on his face, the wolf before him waited for directions. “You can go back now. Get!” and with that, the White Wolf turned and retreated back to where he came from.

Someone spoke on the phone, and Brock brought it back up to his ear. 

“Oh yes, he will be in the field any day now. We just have to affirm his trigger words and Soldat will be ready for use.”  

It was several days after Steve had given you the bite, your fingers unconsciously slipped along the fresh healing mark while you sat outside around the fire with other members of the pack later in the evening. The bite had ended up sending you into a heat which Steve kept you sated till finally you both came up for air days later, deciding that it was best to let the rest of the pack know you two were actually still alive. Sara gave a knowing grin before she brought her beer bottle to her mouth to drink and once you settled down next to her, she handed one over to you. “Welcome to the Pack, officially now Y/N.” She said and laughed softly while throwing her arm around your shoulder when you sputtered on your beer bottle, glaring at her. Your eyes glanced across the fire at Steve while he wandered around, catching up on what's been going on since the two of you had been locked up in the cabin together. 

“Thanks Sara, it was time. I know this is home, and I don’t have any desire to be anywhere else.” You took another swig while Steve from across the large bonfire seemed to catch a scent, tilting his head while talking to some of the logging crew. His eyes roved over the crowd till they fell on you through the flames crackling between them, and Steve smiled to himself before he turned back to his packmates. 

“I will see you all up there in the morning, first thing.” he excused himself from the small group and wandered slowly around the fire, talking to a few others till he reached You and Sara. 

“Ladies…” He greeted on the sly, pulling you up out of the chair and falling into it to pull you in his lap. 

“Alpha, been a while.” Sara said slyly while Sam came up behind her, plucking her beer bottle from her hand and taking a swig from it. 

“Now Baby, be nice. This is still the honeymoon stage.” Sam teased and Steve tightened his hold a bit, shaking his head at your friends. 

“Weren't you just telling me a couple days ago that it just gets better?” Steve asked, and Sara tilted her head back to look up at Sam. 

“Aww, you really say that? Someones getting lucky later.” Sara sprang up and wrapped her arm around Sam's neck, nipping at his chin playfully. Steve turned his attention back to you, his chin brushing along your neck where he left his mark, pride swelling up that now everyone could see you were officially his. He was content, feeling your Little Wolf so close to the Alpha in this new bond. You purred softly feeling the brush of his beard and tilted your head with your eyes closed, enjoying the sensation he was making along your skin. 

Your fingers danced up his arm, over his shoulder and cupped the back of his neck, nuzzling back into the crook, cuddling up against him. You could feel your Little Wolf sigh in content in this moment, her muzzle stretched over the Alphas back. Her ears flickered back and forth feeling you stir in your mind. 

<You know we’re happy right, this is what it feels like.>

You snicker against Steve's neck listening to her. I know what it feels like. 

<I just wanted to be sure, because Im not letting this go anytime soon.> She curled up closer to her Alpha, who lifted his head to check on her before settling back down. 

Neither am I.

“What are you and the Little Wolf discussing?” Steve asked against your ear, and you lifted your head to smile at him. 

“About how happy we are Alpha.” you cupped his face and nipped at his lips, letting your forehead press against his. “That this was the best choice I’ve ever made for myself.” 

His hands were heavy when they pressed against the small of your back, making you arch into him, the fire crackling before you, the pack all around you… Steve had to admit, he was pretty fucking happy to.

The End 🐺

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

New Life Pt.15

Word Count: 1,807

Characters: Derek Hale, Stefan Salvatore, Laura Hale, OC Characters, Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader; OC x Reader

Warnings: angst, cliffhanger, small fluff, mentions of blood

A/N: ---

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

Your breathing was shaky as you pulled into the driveway of the Salvatore house, Dean’s body lying unconscious next to you.

You rested your head on the steering wheel, closing your eyes for a second before running your fingers through your hair. You were was still racing, your arm was stinging from the scratch Dean left on you.

You put your hand on Dean’s shoulder, feeling tears rush to your eyes before you clenched your jaw, wiping it away.

Stop being weak

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him out of the car. You rang the doorbell, struggling to keep your grip on Dean.

“(Y/N)?” Stefan was shocked to see you on the other side of the door. 

You tried to take a deep breath, to calm yourself.

“I need your help,” his face fell as he nodded, running to you.

He lifted up Dean, frowning.

“What happened?”

“He’s a vampire.”

---

“I promise you, you'll feel better after you drink this,” you took out your knife, making a small cut on your hand before putting your blood in a cup, handing it to Dean.

You watched as he paused, before drinking it. He began to cough loudly, 

“What was that? It still hurts,” he groaned.

“Just…” you saw his eyes go dark, while you clenched your jaw.

Black veins appeared around his eyes before he let out a shaky breath, falling back onto the bed.

“Dean?”

Stefan sat across from you in the Salvatore House, both of you keeping to yourselves. You could see him glance at you from the corner of your eye. Your leg was bouncing, you bit your nails sighing, before running your fingers through your hair.

He carried Dean to the basement cellar, waiting for him to wake up so you could explain what was happening to him. You told him you gave him your blood, not sure what else to say.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” you broke the silence, while Stefan took a seat next to you.

“You just wanted to save his life,” Stefan replied softly.

You nodded before you ran your fingers through your hair.

“Where's everyone else?” you asked.

“Laura and Zach are out, they’ll be back tomorrow. Damon left a few days ago, I don’t know why.”

Your phone began to ring, receiving a call from Derek. 

“Hey,” you answered the call.

“Where are you?” his voice broke as you frowned.

“I’m… what's wrong?” you asked.

He sniffled, before clearing his throat.

“Em wanted to break up, she… with Dean and all this stuff,” your face fell before he laughed softly.

“Well, I can’t stay with Dean anymore, Emily probably doesn't want me there either,” he said.

“I’m so sorry, Derek-” you started.

“Doesn’t matter, it was coming anyway. Where are you?”

“I’m at home…” your voice drifted off, seeing Stefan look up, motioning to the basement as you nodded. Dean was awake.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?” Derek asked.

“Just…get here fast,” you hung up the call, before following Stefan downstairs.

---

Your arms were crossed, you remained quiet as Stefan walked into the cellar, talking quietly to Dean. You listened in to a few sentences Stefan said.

“Is there a cure?” you heard Dean ask softly.

“No, there isn’t,” you didn't need to look at Dean to see the pained look on his face.

You could feel guilt in your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself, before sighing. If Dean made his own choice, he would choose not to drink human blood, and you knew that you needed to keep knowledge of what you did away from him.

Stefan motioned to you, letting you know to enter.

“Hey,” your voice was barely above a whisper.

Dean gave you a weak smile, before wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck, shutting your eyes tightly.

“I’ll train him, I’ll help him with everything. He’s going to stay right here for some time,” you nodded softly.

“First, we need to track down a witch. There’s still a Bennett Witch in town, I need to convince her to make another ring for Dean. Stay indoors until then,” Stefan explained.

“Good, it’s already…” Stefan looked at the clock, seeing it sometime past three.

“You’re not gonna go to school tomorrow, is that okay with you?” Dean nodded, before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I have an AP exam, but I’ll come home after,” Dean rested his head on your shoulder before you heard Derek walking down to both of you.

“Oh my god!” Derek ran to Dean, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

“H-How are you alive?!”

“What happened?” Derek exclaimed.

You looked at Dean before sighing.

“Sit down.”

---

“I think I aced it,” Derek leaned on your shoulder, as the two of you walked into the house.

“Well, we’ll know in two weeks,” you muttered.

You yawned, before running your fingers through your hair.

“Did you go to sleep at all last night?” Derek asked.

“No, I wanted to keep Dean company,” you sighed.

The two of you walked into the kitchen, while you grabbed the coffee pot.

“What about the night before that?” he asked.

“I don’t remember,” you replied.

“Jesus, (Y/N). When was the last time you got any sleep?” you shrugged, while Derek took the pot away from you.

“Hey-”

“Go get some sleep,” he said.

“No, I’m gonna go downstairs and hang out with Dean,” you shook your head.

“I’ll hang out with him. Just take a nap or something.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Come on,” Derek tugged on your arm before you glared at him.

“If you take a nap, I’ll stop bugging you,” he raised an eyebrow.

“Fine! Jesus fuck! You’re so annoying, oh my god,” you exclaimed.

“I’m aware. I’ll see you later,” he made sure to watch you walk up to your room, to your bed.

Stupid Derek

From the second your head hit the pillow, you closed your eyes, completely passing out.

---

“You think (Y/N)’s acting weird?” Dean asked. 

The two boys sat on the floor, across from each other, bouncing a ball.

“(Y/N)’s (Y/N). She’s difficult sometimes, but you… I mean you chose to date her,” Derek replied, resting his head on his hand.

“Well, I don’t know. I feel like there’s something she isn’t telling me,” Dean shrugged.

“She probably isn’t telling you something. (Y/N) doesn’t like telling anyone anything,” Derek said.

“Yeah… maybe,” Dean sighed, holding the ball before Derek scoffed.

“This is boring,” Dean groaned.

“Hey, you’re the one that chose to drink blood, now you get to suffer the consequences,” Derek chuckled softly, shaking his head.

He continued looking at his feet, not noticing Dean’s face fall into a frown.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he said.

“What do you mean?” Derek raised an eyebrow, before noticing slight panic in Dean’s face.

“I was dying, I kind of didn’t have a choice,” Dean scoffed.

“You could’ve chosen to not drink human blood, you would’ve died, but still. This is the price of being supernatural. I think a little boredom is worth this,”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t drink any human blood. I drank Damon’s blood, that’s what turned me in the first place.”

“No, when you die after drinking vampire blood, you come back in a transitioning stage where you either drink human blood to become a vampire, or you die,” Derek stood up, before Dean copied his actions, walking to the door.

“I didn’t have that.”

“Then you wouldn’t be a vampire, unless…” Derek’s eyes widened, realizing.

You forced Dean to drink without him realizing it, and Dean realized the same thing.

Fuck, Derek thought.

“Just… I’ll be right back-” before Derek could finish his sentence, Dean used his speed to run out of the cellar, locking the basement door behind him.

---

You got up from your bed, sighing.

It had been only 45 minutes, and you found it impossible to go to sleep.

You could feel guilt in your stomach, about Dean. You didn't even give him a choice, he didn't know that he could have a choice. After knowing Dean for so long, you knew he would choose the worse option, you didn't know how you would bear it if he died.

You decided to shoot a text to Emily.

Hey, how do you feel?

Derek told me about the breakup

As you pressed send, you heard your door being pushed open. Things moved too fast for you to process, before you knew it, Dean’s hands were on your shoulders, pushing you against the wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you yelled.

“Did you force me to drink human blood?” he asked.

You could see the veins twitch, appearing for a second around his eyes while you softened.

“I…” you paused, feeling his grip on your arm getting tighter.

“Dean-”

“Just answer me!” he yelled.

“Fine. I did,” you tried to keep your voice calm, nodding softly.

“How could you do this to me?! What is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

“I was trying to save your life-”

“It’s my life! Not yours! I can do whatever the fuck I want with it! I had a right to choose if I wanted to drink human blood or not, why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” 

“I'm sorry…” you could feel tears rushing to your eyes as you clenched your jaw, trying to hold them back.

“You’re so selfish! You can’t let anyone else have a say in anything, can you? Everything's always on your terms, and what you want, isn't it?”

 “No, that's not-”

“You turned me into a vampire, (Y/N)! You turned me into a monster, who needs human blood to survive. Why?! Are you that sad and lonely that you need to force someone into your life?!” his hands were wrapped around your throat as you tried to breathe in, finding it difficult.

“Dean…” you choked out.

“I hate you.”

You used your strength to make a fist with your hand, hitting Dean as he stumbled backward.

You quickly reached for your knife, holding it out in front of you.

“(Y/N), you couldn't do it if you wanted to,” you felt a shiver go down your spine, the thought of Jay instantly coming to your head.

You saw Dean fall unconscious, while you frowned, dropping your knife.

Laura stood behind him, a worried look on her face as you felt your chest aching.

“(Y/N),” she ran to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly as you held back your cries, burying your face in her chest.

She stroked the back of your head, pressing her lips to your forehead as you held back your tears, scrunching your eyes tightly.

taglist:

@bellabadacadabra​

@teen-wolf-obsessed4life​

@eunoia-kth​

@angelgtzdar

@shortimaginewriter

@linkpk88​

@thetiny-hufflepuff​

@gabbyper1215​

@thetiny-munchkin

[love-bokumono-fics]

WIP Wednesday - Pioneers of Olive Town

Being such a new game, Pioneers of Olive Town doesn't have a huge selection of fic, much less multi-chapter fic, but that doesn't mean there aren't some gems to be found in the WIPs already out there!

WIP Wednesday is a chance to focus on those fics still in progress, and send some love and encouragement their way. Keeping up with a Work in Progress, much less a long running one, is no easy feat. So let's shine the spotlight on the Pioneers of Olive Town WIPS!

Daybreak, Hope and a Hairstylist - by BabyChocoboAlchemist; Pioneers of Olive Town, A New Beginning; 6k, WIP, 3/5

Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply, Category: M/M

Relationships: Allen/Ralph, Allen/Emilio, Allen/Jack, Allen/Damon, Allen/Iori; Characters: Allen, Ralph, Damon, Emilio, Jack, Iori, Sally

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Feels, Psychological Trauma, Male Homosexuality

Summary: Allen, Echo Valley's notorious hairstylist, leaves the comfort of the valley behind for new beginnings. Carrying with him a world of heartache and burdens from the past, he reaches out in the hopes of forging new bonds and finally finding his other half. He begins a new life as Karina and Jeanne's new hair stylist, hoping to find the one mean to complete him-and the one he's supposed to become. Will his other half be Ralph, Damon, Emilio, Iori or Jack? Watch as our hairstylist encounters Olive Town's bachelors on a series of romantic escapades. (Why am I writing a bunch of crackpairs? Well, because Allen intrigues me, I'm going to play Olive Town soon, and I want to make someone smile.)

How a Single Tree lives in a Forest of Change - by Mya_Stone; Pioneers of Olive Town; 15k, WIP, 9/20

Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: Other

Relationships: Ralph/Player, Ralph/Reader; Characters: Ralph, Jacopo

Additional Tags: Budding Love, Slice of Life, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Adding Flavor to a Plain Character, Protectiveness, Canonical Character Death, chronic injury, Slow Burn Romance, So Much Pining you could call it Evergreen, Sorry tree jokes, Mild Angst

Summary: Ralph was a man of few words, and that made him suited for his solitary job as a forest ranger. When he did have to entertain Olive Town's tourists, they took up more of his time and energy then he cared to spend, but their donations made it worth it. Even if his life wasn't everything he had ever dreamed it would be, he could admit that he was content. When a new face shows up to town, intent on taking over the abandoned farm in the valley, it hardly phases him. After all, that farmland is mostly forest anyway, what use could you have for a ranger? But as seasons pass and Ralph realizes there's more to you than just your winning smile and endearing attitude, he also learns your reasons for moving here aren't as simple as you originally let on. With your arrival, the town begins to change, and Ralph can't say it's always for the better. With his quiet, content life thrown in disarray, Ralph has to decide if Olive Town is better off with or without you. If he doesn't speak his mind, that decision will be made for him, and the quiet life he'd learned to love will be lost to him forever.

Lady Of Grasstrail Farms - by FromADenOfBeasts; Pioneers of Olive Town, 43k, WIP 34/?

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M

Relationship: Female Farmer/Lars; Characters: Original Female Character(s), Female Farmer, Lars, Laura, Angela, Clemens, Damon, Jack, Emilio, Reina, Victor, Gloria, Simon, Jesse

Additional Tags: My First AO3 Post, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, spoilers obviously, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Supportive Big Brother, honestly the best big brother ever

Summary: Pioneers Of Olive Town AU where Lars is single. That's not all that happens but it is the reason I wrote this. A young woman named Vallon quits her job and follows her heart to Olive Town, where her family has roots deeper than she ever thought. Now she has to contend with new neighbors, ancient magic, and getting the hang of farming a wild land. Can she cope on her own, or can she at least find someone to share it with? Formerly titled "Why Not, Lars?" (Please note that this AU was planned so that absolutely nothing has occurred between him and Beth.)

[sourwolfstories]

Hi! I know you're probably slammed with requests but i was wondering if you could rec some long fics without smut or skipable unimportant smut scenes? I'm sex repulsed and it's surprising difficult to find fics that don't make me uncomfortable

Okay so these are all at least 20 or 30 thousand words long each and are all either rated general audience or teen and up and I made sure to go through all of them so they shouldn’t have any smut or sex but if I did miss anything please let me know. Hope you enjoy!

Ghosts In The Suburbs by KaytiKazoo

Stiles gets cursed by a witch and can see dead people.

Here’s to the Static by matildajones

Stiles spends most of his college break in a coffee house where he stares after Derek Hale. For some reason, Stiles is unaware of the fact he’s quite the musician, and Derek amuses himself at Stiles’ obliviousness.

Cupboard Love by mklutz

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.

Strangers Like Me by Alphaboner

“Stay back! Don’t come..don’t come any closer! Please don’t! Wh..what are you doing?” he let out a little laugh when Derek started to play with his toes “Ah-haha, no, please, don’t, that tickles!” Derek’s hand traveled from Stiles’ toes to his leg “No, get off, get off!” …to his belt “GET OFF!” he kicked Derek in the face, leaving him confused and aching, looking at Stiles with a scowl.

Get Back Up by Hepzheba

After taking the blame for his so-called friend Jackson and his stupid pot, Stiles is forced to work for the Hales at their horse ranch the summer before his last year in high school. At first he absolutely hates it but he comes to realize that there is actually is something fun about this ranch thing and that horses are more likable and complicated than he’d previously thought. He also comes to realize that it’s not only the horses that are interesting; there’s also Derek Hale.

Scowl and Sarcasm by dr_girlfriend

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single alpha in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a mate.

Whether or not Derek Hale felt that way was hardly a concern to the neighborhood — the very fact of his arrival was enough that the surrounding families seemed to consider him the rightful property of one or another of their eligible sons and daughters. That was, of course, before they met the man.

Only You, Sterek by im2old4thisotp

Derek gets the name of his soulmate off a Ouija board when he is ten. He’s obsessed with finding them, but then his life irrevocably changes. He erases the name from his life and determines to live free of those stupid words, “fate” and “destiny”.

But on the eve of his wedding, he gets a phone call that will change the course of his life forever, and show him that maybe destiny does have a hold on him, after all.

Or, the Sterek rewrite of the movie “Only You” that you never knew you wanted.

sorry about the elbows, sorry we lived here. by dreamer_of_dreams

“You’re doing it again, Derek. You’re running away. I know, alright? I’ve always known… You looked at him the way I wished you’d look at me. You came close some days, when you’re folding my tank tops and we’re talking about small, insignificant things. And I thought that was enough for a while. But it was plain to see, you were sitting around, waiting for him to call you home. He never did and you just carried on.”

“I wasn’t really waiting for him to call. I knew he wouldn’t. I don’t know how you got that impression.”

“Hmmm…Maybe because when we both thought you were dying, I leant over and kissed you… and you whispered his name.”

Just the Same by ericaismeg

Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There’s just no way Derek Hale is human.***“I was wondering if you’re even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it’s ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It’s unfair for us. I mean, it’s obvious you work out, and I don’t, so that could be why, but like…I was just wondering if you were human, that’s all.”

“Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—”

“Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can’t threaten him with shit.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Halevetica

What if all the crushes you ever had found out how you felt about them… all at once?

Stiles Stilinski keeps his love letters in a box his mother gave him. They aren’t love letters that anyone else wrote for him; these are ones he’s written. One for every boy he’s ever loved-five in all. When he writes, he pours out his heart and soul and says all the things he would never say in real life, because his letters are for his eyes only. Until the day his secret letters are mailed, and suddenly, Stiles’ love life goes from imaginary to out of control.

If I Followed You Home by tryslora

Stiles is living on his own in New York when he sees the unthinkable: one woman pushes another onto the tracks just before a subway comes. With Scott not moving in for several days, he is on his own with his grief and horror, and he decides to find closure by attending the dead woman’s funeral where he discovers that (1) the guy he’s been crushing on is the dead woman’s brother, and (2) her family somewhat adopts him, and (3) the woman who killed her might just want to kill him now. Life just got complicated.

Notes:

Wolf Pack: Beacon Original by Beerwolves, fearfrost1211

When his father landed the Deputy Chief of police position in Beacon Hills, Stiles moved to his new town gladly, embracing the chance of a fresh start. What he didn’t expect was to find himself hopelessly drawn to the gruff Vice President of the local motorcycle gang, the Wolf Pack.Derek Hale, resident bad boy of Beacon Hills, spent his time helping his sister lead the Wolf Pack and working on motorcycles at his family’s automotive garage. Then, one hot summer afternoon a bright-eyed boy walked into his life and turned his world upside down.

There’s No Escape for the Potato Man by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“Who is this? Where’s Erica?”

“Wrong number, asshole!”

“Stop calling me an asshole,” the man on the other end snapped aggressively.

Stiles could understand. He’d be pretty aggressive too if he’d murdered someone and texted a wrong number to ask for help burying the body. This guy obviously failed How To Be a Serial Killer 101.

“What kind of idiot thinks I murdered someone?”

“The kind of idiot who got your text messages, you fucking dumbass!” he retorted hotly. “Maybe double check your contacts before sending a random stranger details on your nefarious plans to dispose of a freshly cut up body!”

“What?!” the guy on the other end demanded, crossed between horrendously confused and livid.

home isn’t a place by Spikedluv

Ithaca, New York is known as a sanctuary within the supernatural community, and Cornell University is where creatures such as Kitsune and Selkies can safely attend college. Though Stiles doesn’t think he’s anything special (despite having a ‘spark’, whatever that is), he attends on Satomi’s recommendation; he wants to learn everything he can about the supernatural world so he can return to Beacon Hills and help Scott.

The last person Stiles expects to run into at Cornell is Derek Hale. Derek is gruff and grumpy, but despite that Stiles is drawn to him. When someone begins murdering supernatural students Laura Hale takes Stiles under her wing. Between attending class, hanging out with Kira, adopting a dog, and keeping score for the baseball team, Stiles investigates the deaths to figure out who’s killing his fellow students before he ends up a victim himself.

Through it all, Stiles learns the real meaning of ‘home’.

SuperWing, Stucky and SlaDick, Oh My! by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“Well,” Nightwing said with an awkward laugh, “this is embarrassing. You are definitely not the Superman I was expecting.”

“You mean I almost missed out on having Nightwing leap into my waiting arms?” Derek asked teasingly. He couldn’t help it, the guy was adorable, and while he wasn’t exactly light, he already knew it was all muscle. This guy definitely worked out.

Nightwing let out a loud, boisterous laugh that had people around them turn to look, but he just grinned down at Derek before speaking.

“In that case, didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He waggled his eyebrows and Derek let out a small huff of a laugh. “I should probably, uh—get down.”

“Probably.”

Thanks for Thumper, But I Prefer Cheeseburgers by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist.

Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope.

He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles.

“I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”

An Unexpected Familiar by BabyWeWillRise

Homework over break sucks, right? Harris is at it again with making Stiles’ life horrible by giving him an essay over Christmas break and Stiles could not be anymore displeased.

Except…this stupid assignment leads him to something he didn’t think he was missing.

Or…

After his mother died when he was eight, Stiles (and his father) ran away from reality without looking back.

Now, ten years later, when the eighteen year old runs into a familiar face, he’s thrown back into a life he had completely forgotten about and is welcomed with open and loving arms.

To say he’s freaking out would be an understatement.

[imagine-avengers]

Biker Part Seven- Bucky Barnes Series

7/10 This is part seven of my Biker Bucky series. The previous parts can be found on my masterlist, as will the other parts once they come out!

Elizabeth had woken up cuddled against Bucky on his couch, the two of them covered with a gray blanket that laid on the back of the couch normally. She had stayed and had breakfast with Bucky before he drove her to her home where she had showered and changed before doing some housework. Around eleven Clint showed up to drive her to lunch.

“You sure you don’t want anything Clint?” Elizabeth asked as they pulled up across the street from the restaurant.

“I’m fine, just make sure to get something on the patio so I can see you.” Elizabeth smiled.

“Anne is already out on the patio.” Elizabeth climbed out of the car and made her way towards her friend. “Anne.” She grinned seeing the women that was once her neighbor.

“Liz.” The two hugged before sitting down and catching up. After their lunch arrived, Elizabeth glanced back to check on Clint, whom nodded at her. “Who’s that?” Anne asked noticing Elizabeth glance at Clint.

“Oh uh,” Elizabeth was cut off by a man sitting at the table with them, a man she knew well. “Rumlow.” Elizabeth stated.

“Elizabeth, it’s a pleasure. Introduce me to your lovely friend.” Brock looked at Anne who looked between the two.

“Brock, this is Anne, Anne, Brock. Now how dumb are you Rumlow? A public meeting, with me of all people? In Brooklyn of all places?” She asked leaning back in her chair. “Now tell me exactly what it is you want because I guarantee once James finds out that you’re here, you’re a dead man.” She stated with a smirk before looking to Anne. “Don’t mind us Anne, we’ll only be a minute.” Elizabeth glanced to look for Clint but had noticed he was knocked out in the backseat of the car.

“Sorry, the bodyguard wasn’t part of the plan. He’ll be fine, killer headache. And sadly, both Rogers and Barnes are, let’s say, in a meeting with some of my men.” Rumlow leaned over the table closer to Elizabeth. “Didn’t know Barnes would be so protective of you and send you with a bodyguard.” Rumlow stated as Elizabeth laughed.

“You really think he’d let me out alone, Rumlow? James is anything but dumb.”

“Here’s what you’re going to do for me. You’re gonna tell Barnes that I want him and his organization out of Queens, out of New York really.” He stated.

“Yeah, and why would I do that Brock? And you think James would listen to you, or me for that matter?” She asked which caused Rumlow to laugh. “I couldn’t get the man to commit to marrying me, much less what you want. And you think James hasn’t been informed of you showing up? Just cause you found Clint doesn’t mean there weren’t two more behind him, hidden here before you showed up.”

“If you don’t tell him to leave town, well, things will get messy, for all of you, including sweet Anne, here.” Rumlow looked to Anne before standing up and leaving. Elizabeth waited for him to walk away.

“What the hell was that?” Anne asked as Elizabeth stood.

“I’ll explain in the car, come on Anne.” Elizabeth grabbed Anne’s arm and pulled her to the SUV that she and Clint had driven. Once both were in the car and Elizabeth checked on Clint she began heading towards the bar whilst trying to call Bucky.

‘This is Barnes, leave a message’

“I swear to fucking god Buck, if you don’t answer your damn phone I’m going to kill you myself.” Elizabeth hung up and tried calling three more times whilst driving through Brooklyn, she attempted to call Steve too, but the same thing happened before deciding to call Natasha.

“Hey Liz, what’s up?” Natasha answered after the second ring.

“Something happened with Rumlow at the bar. I need you to meet Peggy to get the kids and then the same with Laura, take them to the safehouse. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“You got it. You good?”

“I will be when I find Bucky.” Elizabeth hung up before calling Peggy.

“Liz, it’s the middle of the day, I’m at work.” Peggy answered the phone even though she was in the middle of teaching a class.

“You need to get the kids. Nat is going to meet you out front, Call Laura, tell her you and Nat will meet her at the shop and then you’re getting the kids and going to the safe house.” Elizabeth stated as she neared the bar.

“Liz, what’s happening? Why didn’t Steve call?”

“I can’t get ahold of him or Buck. Rumlow, something happened with Hydra okay? Just take the kids, get to the safe house with Laura, do not open the door for anyone but Steve, Buck, Clint, or I. I’ll call Nat once I find Steve and Buck. Be safe.” Elizabeth hung up and glanced at Anne who was freaking out. “Anne, I’m sorry to drag you into this.”

“I uh, thought you were just a nurse.”

“I am, but I’m also the girlfriend, if that’s what we wanna call it, of the leader of a biker gang. A gang that basically runs New York.” She stated as the pulled into the parking lot of the bar. She noticed immediately that the lot was empty except for four lone bikes, all of which she knew. “I need you to help me get Clint inside.” The two carried Clint inside together and left him lying on the pool table, Anne standing beside him as Elizabeth grabbed a que stick and moved towards the back room where she found Sam and Thor both knocked out just outside of it. She checked their pulse before entering the back room she noticed both Steve and Bucky bruised, but no longer unconscious.

“Sweets.” Bucky and Steve had drawn their weapons when they heard her coming.

“Bucky.” Elizabeth dropped the stick and moved towards where he was standing, well barely standing. Throwing her arms around him and hiding her face in his shoulder. “Your phone kept going to voicemail, I was worried.” Elizabeth looked him over. “You good?”

“I’m good, just got hit in the head with a gun.” Bucky shrugged as Elizabeth glanced at Steve.

“I’m good too Lizzie. Thor and Sam?” Steve asked.

“They’re fine, just knocked out. Rumlow’s guys didn’t kill anyone. They took out Clint too, Rumlow showed up for lunch. He wants you guys out of town, said things will get messy if you don’t leave.” Elizabeth didn’t let go of Bucky as she talked.

“I need to get Peggy.”

“Nat’s already got her and the kids, I sent Laura too. They’re gonna be fine, we’ll meet them there.” Elizabeth looked back at Bucky. “But my friend Anne, Rumlow talked in front of her, she’s in this now.” Bucky and Steve looked to each other.

“We’ll all take a few days at the safe house and figure things out. We got some scouts who can look out. I’ll call Tony, he’ll have his eyes on the web to see if Rumlow tries anything.” Steve stated.

“I’ll call Scott, see what he can get us for groundwork.” Bucky stated. “Can you check on our three that are knocked out?”

“You got it.” Elizabeth rested her hand against Bucky’s cheek before the two men headed to their offices to make calls whilst Elizabeth grabbed a few bottles of cold water from the mini fridge before dumping them on Sam and Thor.

“What the fuck.” Sam groaned sitting up.

“What happened?” Thor asked as he shot up.

“You both got knocked out.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Ice your heads.” She moved out of the room and found Clint sitting up on the pool table while Anne tried to give him a few aspirin. “He won’t take that Anne. Clint here hates pills. Worst patient I ever had.” Elizabeth examined his neck which was now bruised from being suffocated. “Lucky they didn’t kill you.” She said handing him a bottle of water. “Sent Laura and the kids to the safe house. We’re all heading up there in a few, Steve and Buck are putting some things together here to find out how Rumlow got in.” Clint nodded.

“I’m more concerned on how the fuck he got passed Hawkeye.” Bucky’s voice came from the door of the back room. “Or how he got knocked out and left my girl unprotected.” Bucky moved towards them as Clint jumped off the pool table.

“Who’s that?” Anne asked leaning towards Elizabeth.

“James, my boyfriend.” Elizabeth said softly.

“Bucky, they snuck up on me, they had to have been watching to know my,”

“Moves? How you operate? Yeah Barton, trust me, you’re predictable. Maybe it’s time we cut you loose,”

“James, enough, this wasn’t Clint’s fault, you know that. It could have been anyone and Rumlow would have done the same thing. Don’t be a hard-ass.” Elizabeth stepped towards him. “Clint did nothing wrong, he was outnumbered and in the city, he couldn’t very well have done anything without incriminating himself.”

“We’re set!” Steve called from the back room.

“Barton, you’re with Steve. Sam is with us. Thor, call Loki, get his ear to the ground, see what you guys can find out.” Bucky stated. “Anne, nice to meet you, I’m James. We’re all going on a trip for a few days, and don’t worry we have clothes for you.” Anne looked at Bucky and stepped back before looking at Elizabeth whilst shaking her head.

“I, no, I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Anne.” Elizabeth stepped towards her. “It’s gonna be fine, James and Steve will take care of us, don’t worry about it, you’re safe.” Elizabeth looked back at Bucky. “Come on, lets go. I’ll call Nat.” Elizabeth looked towards Anne again before leading her out of the building. “Nat.” Elizabeth spoke as Natasha answered the phone.

“Is everyone good?”

“Yeah, all fine, little banged up, but fine. We’ll be leaving here in a minute. Gotta drop the bikes at the shops then we’ll be on our way. Let Peg and Laura know that Steve and Clint are fine.” Elizabeth spoke with Natasha for another minute before the two hung up.

-

On the five hour trip to the safe house, Elizabeth sat in the backseat for the first half with Anne before she and Sam began talking. At the halfway mark, Bucky pulled the car over to fill the tank up.

“Alright, Sam we’re switching spots.” Elizabeth stated to the gap tooth man whom sat in the front seat. The two switched seats and Bucky rolled his eyes at them as Elizabeth climbed over into the seat.

“You’re a child.” Bucky stated as they began driving again. “Call Adam, tell him I’m taking you on a weekend trip.” Bucky said glancing over at Elizabeth whom nodded and did as told before turning the radio on. Sam and Anne continued talking in the background whilst Elizabeth leaned her head against the window of the SUV. After a half hour Bucky had glanced over before reaching and taking her hand in his, causing the two to make eye contact before pretending it wasn’t happening.

[seven-oomen]

Okay, so first off, Happy Birthday to your cat!  I hope he got lots of his favorite treats.  Glad to hear that today went as well as can be hoped for you.  And overall today wasn’t too bad here.  We got several big truck deliveries, but when I deal with those I tend to deal less with customers, so it sort of balances itself out.  We’ve been told that we’ll be closing early all week because of the protests, so that’s been ramping the anxiety, but the internet has provided a number of pleasant distractions on my breaks.

Secondly, I would pick Noah for the one that has the second set of twins, for mainly two random reasons; 1) because last time it went Chris, then Noah, so it feels like it should do the same this time, and Chris already had Ben, 2) because it keeps the number of kids per family more balanced- 4 & 3 rather than 2 & 5.  Idk, my brain just gets weird about symmetry and balance in things and I’ve never figured out if it’s an ADD related thing or just a me thing.  Also, the idea of him trying to do his job while pregnant, with Chris and ESPECIALLY Peter trying to be super protective at the same time is just amusing to me.

And actually, thinking about that and the preview for the next chapter made me think of a couple things that didn’t make it into my reviews.  When/how/from whom did Chris learn about the fire? Did Gerard or Kate tell him in a gloating sort of way and kind of tip him off that something was hinky about it, or was it through other hunter contacts, so the thought of outside involvement came later?  

Was he still pregnant with Ben, or was it later on?  Did he contact anyone in Beacon Hills about it for further info at any point before he showed back up in town?  Because I was trying to think about some of the things that could turn up later for angst (why I was doing that to myself is anyone’s guess, but here we are…) and it occurred to me that if Noah was going to have any lingering upset over Chris leaving it would most likely (to me) be from the time right after the fire.  

He’s just lost Claudia, and went off the rails from it, but at least he had Peter, and Laura, and the other Hales.  Now Peter is in a coma, Laura’s left town, and the rest of his adopted/found family is dead.  He has no idea where Chris is, or if he’s safe from whoever did this (does he know about what happened between Chris and Peter before Chris left again?, and he’s dealing a set of even more heavily traumatized twins right now.  I feel like even the most understanding person is gonna have some stuff to work through there.  (Also, Jesus, poor Melissa [possibly for multiple reasons])

Uhhh…sorry to send things into a drama tailspin there for a moment.  Allow me to try and brighten things back up with the original impetus for me to make this a submission and not an ask; because you mentioned X-Men Halloween costumes and I have Thoughts.  *takes super deep breath*  Because omg, yes, so very many options.  

Side note - I would be so happy if someone dressed as Nightcrawler.  He is my precious fuzzy elfin bb, and I love him to bits and get so tired of him getting left out of things (looking at you Funko.)  I feel like Stiles or Peter have the best attitude match (maybe, MAYBE Jackson), but don’t know if anyone would want to deal with the amount of makeup involved.  But, anyway, just, the possibilities.  

Stiles telling Malia she can’t just take the easy way out by going as Wolfsbane, so she takes one of her old white A New Hope Leia dresses and cuts it down into an old school Mystique costume. 

 Peter pulling rank and telling Derek he’s the Alpha so he gets to be Wolverine (this even works better height-wise [I didn’t realize you didn’t know their approximate heights.  I’d looked them up before for…reasons.  Having seen them standing next to each other repeatedly, I’m pretty sure any actual height advantage Ian has comes strictly from his hair], although when Stiles points this out he earns himself a hell of a glare.)  

Naturally that means Chris has to be Cyclops, because, well, calm and serious.  Noah realizes this means they expect him to be Jean Grey.  (N: “Why can’t I ever be a character that wears normal pants?!” C: “Well I have to be the boring one all the time” P: “I mean, you are the closest to a telepath of the three of us.  Don’t you want us mock fighting over you?” N: “…if we do this I get my pick of the Phoenix costumes.”)  

Stiles and Noah trying to fight over getting to be Gambit so they can do exploding playing cards, but getting told they can’t be Gambit unless they can do the accent correctly (Gambit isn’t Gambit if he’s not Cajun, that’s just how it is, I don’t make the rules.)  While part of me thinks it’d be funny to see Jackson as Nightcrawler because of the tail thing, I think Stiles would be more entertaining.  

He’d make little smoke bomb things to fake the sulfur and brimstone effect of his teleporting.  All the family members with enhanced senses would HATE him because they STANK something fierce, and it LINGERED.  But anytime one of them tried to tackle him to get them away, he’d yell “BAMF!” throw on to the floor and run like hell.  

Jackson would be Iceman so he could make it a crossover costume with the character from Top Gun so he could wear aviators and a leather bomber with his outfit.  Allison could dress like Shadowcat from the early Excalibur run, and she could see if Ben would dress up as Lockheed with her (because that would be adorable).  

Derek would decide that if he can’t be Wolverine and glare angrily at people the whole time, he’ll be Colossus so he can just stare with silent disappointment the whole time.  Scott would decide he wants to be Cable (because “…he just looks so cool…”), so Melissa and Chris would dig through their old hunter gear to help him make his costume.  

Melissa could be Jubilee, and rig up little flash bangs to fake the plasma bursts (unlike Noah she has absolutely no qualms about proving that she can still rock a pair of short shorts.)  Lydia would either be Rogue to show off that SHE at least can manage a believable accent, or Emma Frost for the looks that costume would gain her from Allison.  

Alternatively; both sets of twins argue over who gets to be Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver, so they decide that one pair will do the classic comic version, and one will do either the Evolution cartoon version or the MCU version (though they are allowed to switch out the Quicksilver for the other film version if they choose).  

Lydia claims Mystique instead (it’s tempting to make her Banshee, but that seems a bit TOO on the nose), or maybe one of the other Phoenix looks (when I say Phoenix looks I mean Jean’s Phoenix or Dark Phoenix suit from the comics, because I LOVE that outfit), and Ben dresses as Beast (because that would also be adorable).  *finally stops to take another breath*  …umm…so anyway, yeah, as a perennial X-men fan I think it’s safe to say I love this idea, and am so grateful for you putting it in my head…  …sorry about the wall of text, I may have got a little carried away…  …again…

I loved every single sentence of this wall of text, so never apologize. (Although I did break it up a little before posting because that makes it easier to read for other people.

I think all of my ideas for the middle of this fic where either based on questions you, or @artemisa97​ asked me in reviews. So honestly, keep them coming if you want to ask them. They help me determine where the problem areas are, what kind of kinks I need to work out, so honestly, even the sad ones are a great help.

And yeah, I hadn’t looked up their heights yet, I just assumed Peter and Chris were a bit bigger than Noah, but I was delightfully wrong!

I do have one more gem to share, a height comparison of some of the boys and to show you just how tiny Ben is compared to the others.

Blue - Noah (182 cm / 6 ft)

Purple - Chris (177 cm / 5′10)

Red - Peter (178 cm / 5′10)

Yellow - Derek (183 cm / 6 ft)

Green - Ben (111 cm / 3′8)

Turquoise - Jackson (170 cm / 5′7)

Ben’s height is about average for someone between the age of 5 & 6, Jackson’s height is a little on the short side, but I’d imagine that he’d still grow a little until he’s like 20 and end up being around 175/176 cm.

I’d imagine Stiles to be a little taller around 172 cm, Allison is a little shorter at 165 cm and Malia is around 168 cm. (They will all still grow a bit, averaging between 173 (Allison) and 178 (Stiles) )

And the one thing I will say about whether or not Noah gets the twins, without getting too spoilery, or maybe it is, I’m sorry if it is but I can’t help not share.

Is that eventually both Noah and Chris have the same amount of kids from Peter. And one of them has twins. I’m still debating on names, in the deleted scene I named them Mikhail and Adeline, I currently have different names picked out. 

And I think the balance thing is ADD related, because I had the same issue with planning the story XD. So yeah, Peter gets to have a lot of kids, and adopt a lot more into the pack, because Season 2 is kinda canon in this universe, in the sense that Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are still turned. Kira comes along, and of course Lydia. Considering what I have planned for Danny and Mack, I might add them to the pack as well.

And omg I LIVE for those X-men costume ideas <3 Omg. I love it. Considering Stiles’ abilities he would definitely be Nightcrawler and would probably use a quick spell or two to get the makeup in place. (A druid invented this fantastic spell to always get eyeliner on fucking point and shared it in their spellbook. Spoiler alert; said druid was Noah in his teenage punk years. Turns out, it works for other makeup too.)

And I’m in fucking love with all of these ideas actually, I can’t really say which I like more.

[sterrenkijker]

Fourteenth session: “The gang gets some horses and Paola gets a smooch”

after a 1.5 month break we’re back. with emotions. lots of them.

The three of them got their instructions for their first official mission and go to bed, or at least Nidria and Erato do. Paola tries to sneak out of the room she shares with Nidria but accidentally wakes her up. When Nidria asks if she’s okay, she just says she is and leaves without telling her anything else.

She heads to a more familiar part of Paetha, and even though it’s been a while since she has been here she manages to find the house she’s looking for. She peaks through a few windows but sees nothing, and she sits down on the curb and puts her head in her hands until she notices a light has appeared behind one of the windows.

She looks into the kitchen again and sees the person she came here for: a tall elf with brown hair that has grown longer since she last saw him who doesn’t notice her until the gravel under the window makes a sound and he turns around. 

He drops his food and stares at her as if he cannot believe she’s really there, takes a few steps to the window and then comes to a halt again, asking her how she’s here.

Paola really doesn’t want to see him mad. She tells him she couldn’t come see him sooner, but that she’s here now. Sidney really wants to know why she didn’t reach out to him for so long, but she clasps his hand between hers and begs him not to tell anyone from back home what has happened. He promises that he won’t, but that one day she will have to. 

She tells him she has become a paladin of Helm, the god of justice, and got a calling, and that she needs to help people. After showing him the holy symbol of Helm she also pulls out a ring she carries on a necklace and tells him she’s kept it since he left it, and she hasn’t forgotten everything he said to her. She tells him she has to leave in the morning but that she’ll come back. Then she leaves, but not before kissing him.

Back in the tavern, Nidria is asleep and doesn’t wake up when she returns. Paola stays awake for a little while and dreams when she finally falls asleep; she dreams of her home in Olyogroth burning around her, hearing sounds of screams and clanging metal. After her house collapses she sees the figures of her mother, her father and all the people she knew.

“Will you avenge us?” her mother asks.

“Of course!”

After she says that, her mother hands the sword she’s been carrying to her, before she and the rest of them fade away and Paola wakes up in a sweat.

Nidria wakes up around the same time and notices that something is up, most of all that Paola has a new determination in her eyes. Paola doesn’t tell her when she asks how she’s doing, but Nidria tells her that she can always come talk to her.

Erato notices the same thing when they have breakfast but before he can mention it, the mail arrives. Nidria gets a letter from Rosalind telling her that she’s okay, which she shares with the group; they get a letter from Katya, who’s back home with her children; and Erato gets a letter that throws him off. He’d wanted to send a letter but now has to rewrite it and scribbles a quick message to give to the messenger. 

After that, they head out and leave Paetha, to find Vincent’s farm a mile or so outside the town walls. They approach the front door when they spot him in the cow pen and Erato calls out to him. Vincent joins them and after Erato awkwardly asks if he can help them out vis à vis transport to Yelsari, Vincent realises they are part of the organisation. Paola is the only one who can ride a horse, Nidria can talk to horses and Erato can do neither, so Vincent gives Paola a horse for more experienced riders, and Nidria and Erato a horse who’s a lot more calm. Nidria chats with the horse for a bit and they learn from Vincent that their names are Hemlock and Biscuit.

.. bit time i guess but my mind is still reeling 

Laura: “so everyone goes to bed.... unless you want to do something?”

[silence]

Lydia: “oh do you want me to tell you?”

Lydia is so used to being quiet during sessions because her character doesn’t talk much that this was really a culture shock for her lsdkjfskldj welcome to playing dnd

so a lot of emotional conversation was happening and it was really good and my friends are super talented and myranda cried but a part of me could only think about the food Sidney dropped

no trains in Paetha.... no trams either :(

Erato is too young to rent a car and thus to rent a horse?? I guess

“do you have a long horse?”

s i x  f o o t  v e r t i c a l  l e a p

heroic horse name generator. that’s all

[trilliastra]

Nobody knows exactly how it works or why some thoughts pass through the invisible connection and others don't. The romantics say it's destiny, fate, while the scientists keep researching, experimenting and groaning in frustration when they can't find the answers.

Destiny, science – Derek doesn't really care about the reason, he just wants the fucking music to stop.

“He's singing Taylor Swift.” He groans, thumping his head against the table he's supposed to be paiting. Boyd looks up from where he's sketching their new project and snorts. “Again.”

“At least it's not Mariah Carey!” Erica yells from the front room and Derek takes a deep breath.

“Small mercies.” He mutters under his breath and goes back to work.

He doesn't know much about his soulmate, only woke up one morning and knew it's a guy around his age with brown hair and brown eyes. If only he could have a name to work with, he sighs, reaching out for his bottle of water.

It's not always annoying, Derek concedes. Mostly, he enjoys having someone in the back of his mind, always there, always with him. Sometimes he can feel a happiness that's not his when he's feeling particularly down and other times he's the one that tries to send some comfort through their connection, when the sadness invades his mind.

They share their dreams sometimes too, Derek had some vivid nightmares about an unknown woman dying in a hospital bed and others where he kisses a red-haired girl he never even met.

“You'll find him.” Boyd says, suddenly, and Derek startles, looking up at his best friend. Sometimes he forgets how observant Boyd is.

“Yeah.” Derek sighs when his friend touches his shoulder. “I know.” He says, but he's not entirely sure that's true.

–

He dreams about him that night. They are holding hands and watching the sunset at his family's old cabin – Derek's favorite place in the world. They stay quiet, only enjoying each others company, and Derek feels the love so real and strong that when he wakes up his chest is aching.

“Oh, baby.” His mom says when Derek shows up unannounced for breakfast and immediately drops his head on her shoulder. “You'll find him.” She says.

“When?” Derek sobs. It's hard to feel so complete and then have it taken away from him every day when he wakes up.

“It will happen, baby.” His mom keeps saying, rocking him back and forth. Soon his dad joins them and Derek only sobs harder. “I promise.”

Derek wishes he could believe her.

–

“You look like shit.” Erica says when he steps into their shop and the old lady appraising the chairs Boyd finished making last week glares at her.

“We have a customer.” He points out and Erica rolls her eyes, running one hand over her growing belly. “I'm fine.” He promises, kissing her cheek and managing a passable smile.

“You do look like shit.” Boyd affirms, handing him a mug of coffee. “You can go home, you know?” He says, softly. “That table is not due for another week.”

“I need to keep myself busy.” Derek only says and Boyd keeps to himself for the rest of the morning, even though he and Erica keep giving him worried glances that Derek manages to ignore. When he's working he tends to forget everything around him, focusing only on his hands and the wood.

He loses track of time, whistling to himself as he works, only stopping when Erica comes running into their workshop, wide-eyed. “The baby just kicked.” She announces, hands on her belly, as Boyd moves faster than Derek's ever seen, scrambling to his feet and reaching out for his wife. “Oh.” She says, giggling. “Did you feel it?”

“Yeah!” Boyd smiles, turning to him with mad eyes. “Come feel it!”

Derek swallows hard when he touches Erica's belly carefully. “Shit.” He blurts out when he feels the baby moving, can't help but laugh along with his friends. “This is –”

“So fucking weird.” Erica admits, grinning, before hugging him. “You'll get your happy ending too, Der.” She whispers, using his old nickname.

Derek shakes his head fondly, pulling back to watch his two best friends smile at each other. They had a hard time too, he remembers, too many misunderstandings keeping them apart for the majority of their junior year in college.

We are humans, Derek remembers his dad telling him when Laura's soulmate left her for another girl only to come back two years later begging for forgiveness, we are not perfect.

Soulmates are a very special thing, but it doesn't always mean happily ever after. Derek's been surrounded by many couples in love, but he also heard the gruesome stories – pain, heartbreak, murder.

Derek smiles as he watches Boyd kneel in front of his wife and press a kiss on her belly. He doesn't want perfect, he just wants a happiness like this.

–

“You're frowning.” Erica pokes at his forehead, her feet on his lap as he sketches a dresser for another customer. Boyd left a few minutes ago to buy their lunch, so Derek had to be the one to handle the drawing even though it isn't his best skill. “Is he singing another Taylor Swift song?”

“No.” Derek says, handing the drawing to the customer and receiving a smile in return. “It's some weird song about a beacon on a hill? In California?”

“Oh my god.” Erica chokes on her water, laughing.

“Yeah.” Derek shrugs, he already knew his soulmate has questionable music taste. “He's weird.”

“There's a town called Beacon Hills in California.” Their customer says distractedly, still looking at the sketch. “My wife's grandmother lived there.”

Derek blinks. “What?”

“Yeah.” The man says, arching an eyebrow as he looks up at Derek. “It's near Sacramento, I think.”

That's – no. “Fuck.” Derek blurts out, ignoring the man's horrified look.

“What?” Erica asks, looking at Derek with wide eyes.

He stands up suddenly, heart hammering inside his chest. “I think my soulmate just gave me his address.”

–

Derek buys the plane ticket on impulse, only remembers to tell his parents when he's already boarding to Sacramento that same afternoon. He doesn't even read the replies just turns off his phone and proceeds to freak the fuck out during the four-hour flight.

It's – too good to be true. What if he's reading this wrong? What if this is just a stupid song like that one about a llama that he sang for a whole day a few years ago? What if – he doesn't want Derek?

“I can't do it.” He calls Erica as soon as he arrives at the airport.

“Yes, you can.” Erica answers. “He wanted you to find him, Derek.”

“But what if –”

“No more what ifs.” She practically yells. “Don't think about anything, just get into the car and drive. It will be worth it, I promise.”

“You can't know that.” He insists.

“Can too.” She sing-songs. “I'm pregnant, I know everything.”

Derek snorts. “That's not true.”

“Last week I knew it was going to rain.” She points out and Derek can hear Boyd saying 'that's true' in the background. “See?” Erica says. “Just let yourself be happy, Derek.” She whispers softly and Derek feels like crying.

“Okay.” He finally agrees. “Wish me luck?”

“Always.”

–

Derek almost drives right back around when he notices the police cruiser parked in the driveway, but he remembers Erica's words and takes a deep breath. It will be worth it, he whispers to himself and knocks on the door.

He only has to wait a minute before a guy around Derek's age is opening the door. “Can I help you?” He asks, leaning against the door frame and smiling at him.

Derek smiles back, looking into those brown eyes he's been dreaming about. “Your music taste is awful.”

The guy blinks before letting out a full body laugh and throwing himself at Derek. “You found me.” He whispers against Derek's neck, clinging to Derek's shirt desperately.

“Yeah.” Derek whispers back, holding him just as hard. “I finally found you.”

–

“I felt it, you know?” Stiles - his soulmate - tells him once they are inside the house, lying on the couch together. “You were so - lonely. Especially in the mornings.”

“It was hard to wake up after the dreams.” Derek confesses, presses his hand over Stiles’ heart. “I had everything I wanted and then -”

“I know.” Stiles says, touching his cheek. They just met and still, Derek can’t imagine a more perfect feeling. “That’s why I made the song. It was a long shot, but -”

“It worked.” Derek says.

“Yeah.” Stiles goes silent for a moment, before pulling back to look Derek in the eye. “Do you think we would have found each other? No matter what?” He asks. “Even without the song?”

“I don’t know.” Derek answers, honestly. “But we found each other now, right?”

Stiles - his soulmate, his, only his - smiles. “Yeah. We did.”

-

“See?” Erica says, smiling as David reaches out for Derek. “I told you it was going to be worth it.” She winks, watching Stiles and Boyd carry a box into the house.

Derek tickles his godson, smiling back at her. “Yeah, as usual you were right.”

“And you better never forget that.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, circling Derek's waist with his arm and making stupid faces just to make David laugh, “I want one.” He says.

Derek shakes his head – they've had this conversation before. “One more year.”

“Fine.” Stiles whines, pressing a kiss on Derek's cheek. “I love you.” He whispers in Derek's ear, before pulling back and going to help Boyd with another box.

I love you too, Derek doesn't need to say it out loud to know that Stiles heard it anyway.

[catflowerqueen]

Bag Swap AU

The main differences in Laura’s behaviors and attitude towards Grovyle in the bag swap AU, at least before the truth of her identity comes out.

 In the version where it takes place after the expedition, she is far more confident about the situation because she actually knows where they are and where they will inevitably end up. She doesn’t bother trying to escape that much—though she will make a few attempts in the beginning, especially before she starts to recognize the surroundings they pass through on the way to the lake—since it actually works to her advantage not to let Grovyle she knows what they’re headed for, since it means it will be a two-on-one situation once they hit Uxie. Or at the very least she will have more of a chance of warning him. The two will probably end up talking more, and earlier, and she will hear more stories about Relatia. Her demeanor will also remind him more about his partner in terms of general attitudes while travelling—he is used to a silent, wary companion, after all—but her general aloofness and more calculating attitude will throw him off a little bit. And she may be less inclined to help him out in battles—especially towards the beginning—as a sort of passive-aggressive type deal—which isn’t to say that she won’t help him at all, because she isn’t just going to let him get extremely injured in cold blood or anything, but she is less dependent on him in terms of general safety since actually knows where she is and how to get back home if something did end up happening.

But also… Grovyle is going to keep her treasure bag in both versions, and she knows that it would be hard to actually get too far without one. She probably could do it… but it’s just easier to go along with him for the moment.

 In the version that takes place before the expedition, Laura definitely struggles more. She makes more desperate attempts to escape in the beginning, which slowly peter out the farther away they get from home since she is less confident about her ability to actually get back without help. She does her best to memorize where they are and try to navigate and remember the route they’re taking, but some things are bound to be lost, especially since she doesn’t exactly know where in relation to Treasure Town they are besides “east.” She is also trying to stall, as she is hopeful that the Wigglytuff Guild may eventually intercept them. But she isn’t staking all her hope in it since she isn’t one hundred percent certain this is the route Chatot was talking about when he first announced the expedition, and she also figures that it may have been delayed anyways given by the fact she was kidnapped. She also is more proactive in helping Grovyle fight this time around—as much as she can be, given that she ends up tied up for longer here—since she is more dependent on him for things like safety since she can’t easily make it back on her own if she does successfully escape.

 They probably won’t start talking in earnest until she gets injured protecting him—at first because they are both distrustful of each other, but after the injury they’re stuck a while waiting for her to heal, and Grovyle is guilty about her getting hurt in the first place since it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been hindered by being tied up… and also that she wouldn’t have been in this situation in general if it weren’t for his having kidnapped her. Likely he tells her a little bit about what he’s doing as a sort of apology—which he may have been doing a bit more vaguely earlier on to try and ameliorate his guilt, but he definitely goes into more detail now—and she starts to calm down a little even if she still doesn’t fully believe him. Also, this situation hit home for both of them that their current travelling situation is really bad on both sides—it’s too dangerous for grovyle to let her go, but it is equally dangerous for him to keep such a tight leash on her the way he’s been doing… and it isn’t that great for Laura to help him if he’s lying about the situation, but it’s also dangerous for her to keep running like she has been—especially if it turns out he isn’t lying.

 The two will probably get into a discussion about ethics—specifically Lima and Stockholm syndrome—and Grovyle will probably wonder internally if this is the way Dusknoir felt all this time, and then become slightly annoyed/disgusted with himself over the comparison, even as he decides it probably is.

 Throughout it all, Grovyle is going to be reminded of his partner through Laura’s determined spirit in her struggles, as well as her innovation in her escape attempts. For example: she fashions a sharp rock into a sort of knife, which she will use to either attempt to stab him or to cut through the ropes. Most pokemon wouldn’t think to use tools like that—at least not immediately—but it is something that human would try.

 Laura’s early struggles are what prompt most of the rumors the guild hears in regards to the “strangely behaving, sceptile-line family heading east.”

 Things that will happen in at least one of the versions:

-Laura will briefly contemplate escaping via tree climbing before Grovyle—catching her brief glance at the trees and getting reminded of his partner’s tendency towards heights—nips it in the bud by informing her that he also has excellent tree climbing skills.

-Laura, while still in the tied-up stages of this journey, will save Grovyle from an attack from behind (which would have knocked him out) by head-butting the enemy. This will leave her with a mild concussion, and when Grovyle is trying to ascertain how bad it actually is she will ask him when, exactly, did he teach himself the move double team, and why is he using it now that the battle is over, and how did he manage to teach their surroundings the move, too? …Meaning of course that she now has double vision, and Grovyle has to carry her for a bit until they can find someplace that she can rest for a bit until she heals up. In the post-expedition version this likely will not be extremely serious, but will probably be what prompts him to start opening up—a combination of general guilt for her plight getting injured as a kidnap victim and situational guilt because part of the reason he left himself open like he did was that he forgot this treecko wasn’t actually his partner, so he was expecting defensive battle tactics from her which he really shouldn’t have (even though she did, surprisingly, deliver them).

If it happens in the pre-expedition version, then this is also the reason he starts to open up a bit, but it’s more out of a desperate attempt to keep her awake while he tries to heal her—since she definitely gets more injured in this version for… various reasons, the least of which is that she is pretty much always in a mildly injured/exhausted state from her many escape attempts, and the fact that she has been helping him so much only intensified his feelings/memories/muscle memories of fighting alongside his partner, especially because Laura is getting so adept at using makeshift weaponry here. So he probably tells her the Time Gear legend amidst his many apologies, and she gets hooked. And then starts demanding he tell her more, totally milking the fact that he’s super guilty about the whole thing, while they wait for her to heal. Because, again… he isn’t heartless. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone in the past world, because they don’t know any better, so he doesn’t want to leave her. Also… he keeps irrationally (or so he thinks) being reminded of his partner whenever he looks at her, so he can’t bring himself to the logical conclusion that he should just do what he can for her and then send out a rescue request/do something more… drastic to fix the problem that having a hostage is causing.

-Laura is going to get the chance to actually handle the time gears at some point. Possibly when Grovyle is explaining what they’re actually for. Her reaction is going to be interesting—probably a lot of awed wonder, and he may have to repeat himself because she’s going to be totally absorbed by the sight/feel of them, but unlikely anything that would tip him off about her true identity—either in regards to the fact that she’s his partner turned into a pokemon or the fact she is the Rainbow Child and, thus, has a deeper connection to them in general.

 Because isn’t it interesting that the Player never got to actually touch them in-game? Grovyle certainly did, but aside from him… it was the partner who picked them up from the ground when Grovyle dropped them after dragging Dusknoir to the future. And it was the partner who ultimately put them in place at Temporal Tower.

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.2

Word Count: 1,644

Characters: Derek Hale, Reader, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey (brief), OC Characters

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: some angst, not much

A/N: Enjoy

Masterlist

You groaned loudly, as you smacked your fist on the table.

“Any luck?” your mom came into your room, asking you.

“Nope! It says there are only three werewolves in Beacon Hills. Derek, Scott, and Peter. And all I got from this was another headache.” you whined.

“And a nose bleed.” your mom handed you a napkin.

“Oh, oops.” you wiped your nose.

“What makes you so sure that it’s not Peter?” your mom asked.

“We saw Peter. There’s no way it’s him. He didn’t even reply. He’s paralyzed.” you answered.

“Well, what if this werewolf had another witch cloak them?” your mom suggested.

“Well, it’s possible but highly unlikely, most witches and werewolves are enemies. Only very powerful witches can do that, and they still need to channel power from something big. I would feel that.” you said.

“Maybe you should rest for the night.” your mom offered.

“But Mom…. they killed Laura,” you said softly.

“I know, Laura was like my daughter as much as she was your sister, but tiring yourself out won’t do any good for anyone.” your mom said softly.

“It’s fine. I’m not even tired,” you said. Wrong time to yawn.

“That was a joke.” your mom gave you a look.

“Okay, how about you go to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning,” you said.

“I’m working tomorrow,” she replied.

“Goodnight Mother.” you gave her a small smile.

“I never wanted you to get caught up in the supernatural like this,” she said.

“Mom, it was gonna happen. Look, I’m a witch, my best friend is a werewolf. You’re an ex-hunter!” you exclaimed.

“I know, we can’t get what we want. Okay, fine I’m going to bed. Goodnight (Y/N).” she waved before walking off.

----

You walked into school, half asleep. You stumbled with your locker, leaning head first into it as you closed your eyes for a second.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Scott's voice from next to you.

“Oh, hey there!” you quickly got up, turning to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just haven’t slept all night.” you yawned.

“Do you know Derek?” he asked.

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry I didn't tell you guys before,” you said.

“Why? Why are you friends with him?” he asked.

“Well, we basically grew up together. Our moms were best friends and I was close with all the Hale siblings.” you shrugged.

“Derek’s so…..” Scott started.

“Yeah, I know. But how are you? I know about Friday.” you asked him.

“Oh, so you know I’m a-” you just nodded.

“Yeah,” you gave him a small smile.

“I’m a witch,” you said.

“Oh, that’s cool,” he replied.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, why?” he asked.

“Well, you look and this feels really awkward. But, all I have to tell you is that Derek’s not a bad guy,” you said.

“Well I don't know about that but okay.” he nodded.

“How was your date with Allison?” you asked.

“It was bad. First, I started to lose control and just left her at the party! And then, it turns out her dad’s a hunter.” he sighed, leaning against your locker.

You became alert.

“What? What’s his name?” you asked cautiously.

“It’s Argent,” he said.

You felt your heart drop.

“Oh my god! Of course, it was!” you exclaimed.

“What?” Scott asked you.

“Nothing, you won't understand. Ugh.” you groaned.

“Uhm, okay. I’ll catch you later. I have to apologize to Allison.” he said.

“Alright, bye kid.” you gave him a small smile.

You went on through the rest of your day, getting ready to leave after your last class ended. As you headed out of the door, your teacher asked to speak with you.

“Yes, sir?” you asked, looking at the clock.

“So, (Y/N). You’re good at Physics. You’re the top of your class,” your teacher started.

“Well, I guess I’m okay at it,” you shrugged.

“You’re good at Chemistry too.” your teacher said.

“Well, yeah,” you raised an eyebrow.

“There’s another student who’s struggling in Chemistry. Some of the staff were suggesting you tutor him.” your teacher said.

“Uhm, yeah, sure.” you nodded.

“Great. His name is Isaac Lahey.” your teacher said.

“Yeah, great. I’ll see you tomorrow.” before your teacher could finish, you ran out of the school.

------

You ran to the old Hale house, looking for Derek.

“Did it work?” he asked as you entered.

“N-No, but I’m thinking….. It might not be a wolf…. because the Argent’s are in town.” you panted, catching your breath.

“What?” Derek asked, walking to you.

“What if they killed her?” you exhaled.

Instead of a reply, Derek clenched his jaw, punching his through the wall.

“Damn it!” he yelled.

“What are you gonna do?” you asked.

“I’m gonna kill every last one of them,” he said angrily, pacing around the room.

“You can’t do that,” you said.

“They killed my family!” he yelled.

“I know, but it wasn’t them. It was Kate,” you said, trying to calm Derek.

You could hear him growl.

“Well, what about Laura?!” he yelled.

“I don’t know, maybe it was Chris. Or maybe it was the Alpha. Hunter or not, we still have a wolf situation on our hands.” you said. You put your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to kill all of them” he breathed.

“You’re gonna have to go through me. You don’t know if Allison is innocent or not. She’s a kid, Derek.” you said softly.

“So was Cora. So was every other kid in my family. They’re all dead now.” he barked.

“I know, but killing them all will only send more hunters after you,” you said.

“Are you seriously defending the family that killed my family?! Murdered your best friend?!” he shouted at you.

“I’m not defending them! Allison is just a kid!” you yelled back at him.

“Out of all people, you should understand,” he said, you could feel his breath on your face.

“Maybe I just don’t like the thought of killing an innocent kid.”

“She’s not innocent, she’s a hunter.”

“What happened to you?” you asked him, shaking your head.

“What the hell are you talking about?”, he asked

“The Derek Hale I knew would never even think about hurting an innocent kid. Whether or not they were a hunter.” you pushed him away from you, walking out of his house and walking back home.

------

“Okay, so what happened?” you asked, sitting on Stiles’ bed.

“Scott basically broke Jackson’s shoulder and now they need Scott for the game,” Stiles explained.

“Great.” Scott sighed dramatically.

“Okay, well, Scott just needs to find an anchor of some sort. Someone, something. Something that brings out the humanity in him,” you explained.

You saw Stiles’ face drop, looking at Scott’s screen during the facetime. You looked at him confused, walking to the screen. Then you saw a shadowy figure in the back.

Stiles frantically typed ‘There’s someone behind you’ 

Before he could reply, he was pressed to the wall. You gasped in fear of your friend before realizing it was just Derek.

“Derek,” you said.

He ignored you, saying something to Scott. You rolled your eyes.

You watched Derek jump out of the window as Scott put his hands on his knees, breathing frantically.

“What did he say?” Stiles asked.

“He threatened me.”

----

“Why’d you threaten Scott?!” you yelled at Derek.

“He’s gonna get us all killed, (Y/N)! I saw his lacrosse practice today! He lost control! He shifted!” he yelled at you.

“So you told him he can’t play lacrosse or else you’ll kill him?!” you yelled.

“He’s an idiot! I’m not gonna end up dead because of him!”

“So?! You still played basketball, no matter how many times Peter warned you!”

“That’s different! I’m a born wolf! I have more control than he does!”

“Then I’ll help him!”

“Really?! You!? You can’t do anything!” he yelled. That was the last straw for you.

“Leave. Now,” you said, your voice low.

“Oh my god! I didn’t mean it like that (Y/N)!” he yelled, annoyed.

“I said leave!” your voice echoed through your house.

“Fine!” he yelled back, storming out of the house.

------

You finished tying up your hair as you opened the front door. Standing in front of you was a tall kid, who was about 16 or 17 with curly gold hair.

“H-Hi, I’m Isaac.” he gave you a nervous smile.

“Oh, hey Isaac! I’m (Y/N).” you smiled, shaking his hand.

You looked at the younger boy, who looked scared out of his mind. You could tell something was wrong, but you didn’t know what.

----

After Isaac left, you got a text on your phone from Scott. He called you to Derek’s house.

You arrived there quickly, looking confused at the three police cars and ambulance there. Derek was wearing handcuffs, being taken to a police car.

“What the hell happened?” you whisper yelled to Scott.

“He killed the girl in the woods,” Scott replied. You looked confused, thinking about what Scott said. There was no way that Derek killed someone. 

As the police left with Derek, you slowly approached the ambulance, that was carrying the body to the truck. Shivers went down your spine as you looked at the body, looked at her face.

“Oh my god!” you shut your eyes, burying your face into Scott’s arm. Looked at Laura Hale’s dead body. Tears fell quickly from your face.

“(Y/N)? What happened?” Scott asked.

“I-I know her. Derek didn’t kill her,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry (Y/N). I didn’t know you knew her.” Stiles said, standing on your other side.

“That’s Laura Hale. Derek’s older sister.” you sniffled.

“What?” Scott said.

“So he killed his own sister? What type of psycho does that?” Stiles exclaimed.

“He didn’t kill her. But I think I know who did.”

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Legends

Sterek Pokémon Trainer AU

Derek runs a Pokémon Clinic with his sister and Stile is the apprentice at the local Gym, training to take over his father’s place as Gym Leader.

For @loveyprophet

Derek blinked his eyes open to the familiar surroundings of his apparent, the golden light of day bleeding in through the window. He kicked his feet out from under the sheets and got out of bed, going about his morning routine.

He could hear Laura opening up the clinic downstairs, the sound of the door chiming and quiet voices drifting into his apartment.

He made his way downstairs, stopping to check in on the Pokémon who had been left in their care overnight. He crouched before one of the cages, looking in on the Vulpix with a broken leg. He was fast asleep, curled up under the soft blanket with his sister snuggled up next to him to comfort him.

The other Vulpix lifted her head, blinking her glossy black eyes as she looked up at Derek. She let out a quiet ruff before carefully stepping over her brother and prancing over to the cage’s door.

Derek unlatched the door, opening it.

The Vulpix climbed into his arms, snuggling up against him before prancing back into his cage and gently nudging her brother awake.

“Hey, buddy,” Derek cooed, watching the Vulpix blink its sleepy eyes. “I’ll let you sleep a little longer and then I’ll get you some breakfast, okay?”

The Vulpix let out a sleepy mew, lowing his head back onto the blue bandage wrapped around his leg.

He shut the cage door again, moving from Pokémon to Pokémon as he checked in on them.

“Der,” Laura called from the front desk.

He let out a sigh as he rose to his feet. He stepped out of the back room and made his way down the hallway, past the doors that led to other rooms and stepped out into the open lobby.

An Altaria stood in the lobby, watching him intently.

“I’ll feed the Pidgeys,” Laura volunteered, holding out a brown paper bag full of treats. “You can deal with your favourite patient.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

Altaria chortled, catching Derek’s attention.

“Alright, alright,” he said.

He couldn’t help but smile as knelt down on the floor and held out a treat for her.

The Altaria crept forward, the soft cloud of her body bouncing with her steps. She craned her neck, taking the treat from Derek’s hand. She let out a delighted chirp, wiggling on the spot.

The door chimed as it opened.

Derek looked up at the young man that came bursting into the foyer.

He froze as he met the boy’s eyes, watching as the smoky quartz depths shimmered like gold in the streams of daylight. His chestnut-brown hair was a tousled mess and his eyes widened like a startled deer as he met Derek’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” Stiles said, his pale, mole-speckled cheeks flushed. “She snuck out the front door when I wasn’t looking.”

Derek bit into his lip, fighting the urge to laugh.

Altaria fluffed up her cloud boastfully.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Stiles scolded, pointing at Altaria, but she was unphased.

Derek had to admit, Stiles might be the only Pokémon trainer he actually respected. The young man seemed to have a way with his Pokémon; he let them roam free outside their Pokéballs. Like every ten-year-old, he had set out on an adventure with his best friend, Scott, to become the greatest Pokémon trainer, but after a few years, he returned home, wanting to take his place with his father in the Gym.

His Pokémon had become part of the town: the Gyaradose in the lake that had saved kids from drowning; the Jangmo-o that wandered about the street, keeping bug Pokémon off farms in exchange for berries; the Dratini that slithered around town, letting kids pet him and walking them to school every morning; the Charizard who helped the elderly cross the road or carry groceries and made sure that people got home safe; and, of course, the glamour-queen Altaria who made her way into the Pokémon Centre every morning to score a treat from Derek.

Stiles’ only Pokémon who wasn’t a dragon type – aside from Charizard, but Stiles would argue that until he was blue in the face – was his Bulbasaur; the puppy of the town, who ran around and begging for belly rubs. He and Scott had found the Bulbasaur in the woods near their town, hurt and abandoned. They took him in, but when Scott and Stiles went separate ways, Stiles came back home and took his place as a trainer in the Gym, the apprentice to the Gym Leader – his father.

He was an incredible trainer, and his Pokémon were unlike any other.

Derek admired the way Stiles treated them, and he and Laura loved it when the free-roaming Pokémon would visit the sick Pokémon in the Pokémon Centre.

“It’s alright,” Derek said reassuringly, reaching out to gently pet Altaria’s head. “I like it when she visits.”

Altaria let out a delighted chirp before wandering back out the door and down the street towards the Gym.

Stiles let out a heavy sigh, his expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stiles, it’s alright,” Derek said, a sweet smile playing across his lips. “We still on for tonight?”

“Absolutely. I’ll meet you here at seven?”

“Seven, it is,” Derek said.

“I’d better go make sure she’s not terrorising anyone else,” Stiles said, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of Altaria. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” Derek farewelled.

“Bye, Stiles!” Laura called from the back room.

“Bye, Laura,” he shouted back. He offered Derek a sweet smile and a small wave as he turned and chased after Altaria.

Derek couldn’t help but watch as he watched Stiles leave.

  At seven o’clock, Derek left the Pokémon Centre in his sister’s hands, grabbing his favourite leather jacket from upstairs before meeting Stiles at the front door.

The young man had an old wicker basket in his hands and a bright smile on his face.

“I brought a picnic,” he said. “I thought we could go eat it down by the lake.”

“That sounds perfect,” Derek said, returning the smile.

He stepped over to Stiles’ side, walking beside him as they made their way down the small trail out the back of town and down to the lake.

Stiles made his way out onto the wooden pier, setting the basket down on the creaking wooden boards. He pulled out a red and white picnic blanket and laid it across the pier before sitting down on in.

Derek smiled as he sat down next to Stiles.

Stiles dug into the basket, pulling out plates of sandwiches, fruit platters, and cheese and crackers. “So, uh… how was your day?”

“Good,” Derek said. “The Pidgeys that were abandoned when their nest fell out of a tree have all their feathers and they’re ready to start flying. And I spent half the day with a Rattata asleep in the pocket of my scrubs. How about you?”

“Good,” Stiles answered. “It was a quiet day so my dad just ran me through Leader stuff… I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“Everyone gets nervous on the first date,” Derek said. “If it’s any consolation, I’m nervous too.”

Stiles let out a soft chuckle, bowing his head as a soft pink blush coloured his cheeks.

“I, uh… I really like you,” Stiles admitted.

“I like you too.”

Stiles met his gaze, the dark brown depths lit with gold as they caught the light of the setting sun.

“I really want to kiss you,” Derek confessed.

A sweet smile played across Stiles’ lips, making Derek’s heart flutter.

“Please do,” the young man pleaded.

Derek reached forward, his fingers gently brushing the soft skin of Stiles’ mole-speckled cheek. He craned his neck and brought his lips to Stiles.

Their lips barely touched as a wave water crashed down over them.

Derek steadied himself against the pier, shaking his head as lingering droplets of water fell down his face. He looked up at Stiles, “You okay?”

The young man was rigid, fighting back the anger in his eyes. He slowly turned to look at the lake, fixing his glare on the Gyaradose that towered over them. “Really?”

The Gyaradose let out a low chuckle, sending ripples across the lake as he sunk back down into the water.

“I hate you,” Stiles said—although they both knew he didn’t mean it.

Gyaradose let out a huff as he sunk beneath the water’s surface.

Stiles let out a measured breath, running his hand through his hair and combing it back from his face.

“I am so sorry,” he said.

Derek wasn’t paying attention, he was too distracted by the sight before him.

Stiles’ shirt was soaked through, clinging to his surprisingly firm body. The dark fabric accentuated his thick biceps, rivulets of water coursing his forearms as droplets of water clung to his face, glistening in the glow of the sunset. His wet hair was a tousled mess, raked back from his face as his dark eyes met Derek’s.

“It’s alright,” Derek said, snapping himself out of his stupor. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing the wet strands away from his face. “My place isn’t too far if you want to dry off.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said. He looked down at the decimated picnic.

“I’m sure it would’ve tasted great,” Derek said. “It was very thoughtful, thank you.”

A small smile lifted the corners of Stiles’ mouth as he started to cake it up, tossing the soggy sandwiches into the lake and stacking the plates in the wet wicker basket. He picked it up and followed Derek back to the Pokémon Centre.

Laura was standing behind the counter when they came in. Her expression was a mix of humour and shock when she saw them.

“What happened to you two?” she asked, fighting back her laughter.

“I fell in the lake,” Stiles lied. “Derek jumped in to save me.”

“Aw, my little brother, the hero,” she said, kissing Derek’s cheek as he walked by.

Stiles followed him upstairs and into Derek’s apartment. He set the wet basket down by the door and waited, watching Derek move through the open space.

The man disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with two towels. He passed one to Stiles. “Why did you lie?”

“Because it sounded like a better story than ‘My Gyaradose splashed us because you tried to kiss me’.”

“Fair enough,” Derek said. “I’ll see if I can find some dry clothes for you.”

He stepped into the corner of the apartment that was cordoned off as his bedroom, pulling open the drawers and digging through the piles of clothes. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of jeans, offering them to Stiles.

“Thanks,” the young man said, taking them from Derek and setting them down on the back of the couch as he pulled his soaking wet shirt over his head.

Derek froze. He knew Stiles was strong; he had to be if he spent days on end carrying his Pokémon around, but never in his wildest dreams would Derek have imagined Stiles would look the way he did.

If he had looks good in a soaking wet shirt that clung to his body, then he looked gorgeous without a shirt at all. As he dried himself off with the towel, Derek got a full view of his body; his thick biceps and toned abs. He watched as the muscles flexed and relaxed with his movements, his skin covered in moles that charted constellations across his skin.

Derek dragged his eyes up to Stiles’ face, watching as the young man met his gaze and cocked an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Derek said, shaking himself from his trace. “I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just… You look… wow.”

Stiles let out a low chuckle.

“You look ‘wow’ too,” he replied.

Derek burst into laughter.

“Do you want to get this awkwardness over with and try that kiss again?” Stiles asked.

“I’d like that,” Derek said.

He took a step closer, closing the distance between himself and Stiles. He craned his neck, brushing a chaste kiss against Stiles’ lips.

The young man’s eyes fluttered shut, his lips quivering slightly as he tilted his chin and chased Derek’s lips.

Derek drew their lips together again.

Stiles let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped. He turned slightly, looping one arm around Derek’s neck while the other cupped the man’s cheek, pulling him closer.

Derek reciprocated, settling a hand on Stiles’ hip and the other cradling the back of his head as he gently guided the younger man backwards.

Stiles’ back bumped against the wall, pinning him in place as Derek pressed their bodies together. Stiles let out a delighted hum as he melted into the kiss. He wove his fingers into Derek’s hair, gently balling the soft tufts into his hand.

Derek had kissed a lot of people before, but this time was different. He couldn’t explain it; it just felt right. His breathless lungs filled with searing pain, but he desperately didn’t want to let go.

Finally, he drew back, gasping for breath. He couldn’t help but grin at Stiles’ euphoric expression, his brown eyes misted as he slowly blinked them open and looked up at Derek.

“Wow,” Stiles said breathlessly.

“Wow,” Derek agreed.

Stiles smiled, a soft pink blush colouring his cheeks.

Derek tilted his head, kissing him tenderly.

There was a shrill squawk from the doorway.

Derek drew back, looking over his shoulder to see Stiles’ Altaria, puffed up and ready to fight.

“Don’t you dare,” Stiles said warningly.  He turned back to Derek and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. They’re just being protective,” Derek said. “It’s kind of endearing.”

“It’s also kind of irritating.”

A sweet smile played across Derek’s lips as he leant in again for another kiss.

Altaria let out another squawk, making them both jump.

“Stop it,” Stiles told her, quickly stealing a kiss from Derek.

Derek’s smile widened. “Since you made the lovely picnic, I’ll make us dinner. And if Altaria lets me kiss you more, I might even give her a treat,” Derek said loud enough that she could hear.

Altaria chortled as she wandered into the apartment more and curled up on the floor by the couch.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

Derek let out a low chuckle as he cupped Stiles’ cheek again and bringing their lips together again in a sweet, tender kiss.

[AO3]