I’m On The Floor

KIT TANTHALOS in WILLOW S01E01 | The Gales

Kid?

Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader A/N: I haven’t watched X-Men since I was a child, so I can’t promise this is going to be canon-compliant. I haven’t watched DP & W either, I’ve just been influenced by that one gif where Hugh Jackman shakes his head like a dog. I feel FERAL Also, I am not good at superhero names or coming up with creative powers. So you’re a mutant with matter manipulation and they call you Flux. I mean, superhero names are inherently ridiculous so I think this works. (Don’t judge me, I’m just here for the sexy man) Summary: You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)

It was your own fault, you should have knocked before you busted through the door. You only have yourself to blame as you struggle to catch your breath and swallow down the lump in your throat. The image of Logan standing between Jean’s bare legs is going to haunt you for a while. Their faces will keep you awake at night, cringing at yourself while you remember the humiliating moment. 

You rush towards the door, a stupidly giddy skip to your step. You were a mutant, a superhuman, and getting a chance to talk to your crush should not have you giggling like a schoolgirl. Still, you’re blind to all logic when it comes to Logan. 

You turn the corner, spotting the medbay and nearly ramming into the door you know he’s lurking behind. Charles had told you where to find him. Of course, you hadn’t paid attention to the odd tone of voice when he had very clearly warned you to knock. All you’d heard was Logan’s name and you’d zoned out for the rest of the conversation. 

And, of course, you don’t knock. You grab the door’s handle and bust in, “Hey!” Your eyes widen and your stomach plummets with a depressing plop to the floor. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the way Jean and Logan are entangled in each other. He’s leaning over her, the muscles and veins in his neck pulsing with strain. Normally, that sight would have you nearly drooling. 

Instead, all you can see is the flush on Jean’s cheeks and the way her pupils are dilated with want. Her nails are digging into his back, bare legs twined around his waist. There’s no way to misinterpret this. No way for you to later assure yourself that this was all just a misunderstanding. 

The words stumble out of your mouth in a disjointed mess that even you can’t decipher. You stand there, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finally get it together. “Charles,” you stutter out, his name sounding like a question. You wince and finally tear your gaze away from them. “Sorry,” you chuckle, trying to play off your hurt as humor. “Charles needs us all for a mission.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond, you slam the door closed, ignoring what you think might be someone calling your name. 

You shake off the mortifying memory and groan. Your head falls into your hands and you grip at your face until the pain distracts you from the embarrassment. It’s not too hard to push it all down, to pretend what happened didn’t make your heart crumble away into nothing.

Maybe it’s because you’re a mutant that you’re so used to rejection. You’re used to constantly being disappointed by people around you. Your childhood was nothing but cruelty, your crush not liking you back can’t compare to half of what you went through. 

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, to try and pretend it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. You shove it down until you think you can’t feel that dull ache anymore. And when Jean and Logan walk into the room, looking more put together, you smile at Logan like you always do. It doesn’t turn down at the corners, your eyes don’t water. You take in a deep breath and look utterly unaffected. 

He sits down beside you and leans towards you. “I can explain-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “Forget about it. I should have knocked.” You turn towards Charles who wheels himself to the front of the room. You dismiss Logan and ignore the way his stare burns into the side of your head. 

Charles looks to Jean and Logan, a smile starting. Then his gaze drifts towards you and your chest deflates when you see the look on his face. He knows, the old miser probably coasted over your thoughts and he knows. He sends you a sympathetic look that makes you feel like a little girl who just got told unicorns don’t exist. “Jean, Logan, glad that you’ve finally joined us.”

Logan nods and leans back in his chair. But his eyes remain fixed on you and it makes you wish you could stab a fork into them. You let out a short, irritated huff of air and frown at yourself. Maybe you were a little more angry than you would like to admit. 

You blame Logan for that. You never would have fallen so deep into infatuation if you hadn’t believed there was even a sliver of a chance with him. Always speaking so kindly with you when he would barely spare anyone a second glance. Constantly doing checkups on you after a particularly harsh training session with Charles. 

Your mind runs over all the small things with him, everything you’ve done together. And you’re hit with a sudden nauseating thought. Oh my god, what if he sees me paternally?

You force yourself not to physically react but inside your throwing up and fucking freaking out. You feel a sudden spark of alarm from Charles and quickly do your best to fortify your mind so he doesn’t see your major mental freakout. 

You’re not that much younger than him. Well, it’s not illegal, your crush on Logan. But what if this entire time, when you’ve been falling harder and harder for him, he’s just been platonically taking care of you? You’ve seen him do it plenty of times for the younger kids, as reluctant as he is to admit it. 

You’re spiraling further and further into panic. So much so that you have no idea what’s even being discussed or what’s going on. You get onto the jet and have to ask Storm what you’re doing. She gives you a confused look but tells you nonetheless. Just some recon on a potential mutant trafficking ring. Nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that is. There shouldn’t be much violence, which is why your group is particularly small today.

You nod your head, moving like you’re in a daze as you throw yourself onto a seat. Logan sits beside you, an alarmed look on his face. “You alright, kid?”

The nickname, which is used to make your stomach flutter, makes you want to throw up. How have you missed it for this long? It was laid out so plainly before you. Of course, he doesn’t want you. Not when he has perfect Jean. Bile rises in your throat with a vicious ferocity when you glare over at Jean. 

There’s a sudden petty, vindictive rage fueling you. The type you should have abandoned in high school, especially now that you’re grown. Instead, you feel like giving into Logan’s idea of what you are. You feel like reacting to all of this petulantly. 

You ignore Logan and instead catch Jean’s eyes. Slowly, and with as much intention as you can force into your gaze, you look from her to Logan and then Scott. Her eyes widen and Logan scoffs beside you. She shakes her head minutely, silently begging you not to say anything. You smile at her and stand up.

You take a step towards Scott and Logan calls out an irritated, “Kid.” You ignore him and Jean eyes you warily as you approach. She stands like she’s ready to fight you and take the jet down just to keep you quiet. You reach Scott and can hear the way Jean takes in a sharp breath. 

“Scott,” he looks up at you with his brows raised. There's a pause before you speak. Dragged on too long for Scott not to realize you’re planning something. 

Jean takes a step towards you and you grin, “Mind checking my cuffs?” Scott gives you an odd look and his confusion only gets worse as Jean slumps onto the seat beside him. She’s not even trying to hide her relief. Scott shakes his head and holds his hands out, fingers gently probing around the cuffs on your wrists. The ones that keep your powers in check. 

You’re still new to welding them. And they’re too entwined with your emotions for you to just have free range with them. If you hadn’t had the cuffs on this morning, you’re afraid you might have just turned everything around you into nothing but dust.

“They look fine, Flux.” His tone betrays his thoughts. He doesn’t know why you’d come to him for this when it’s Charles who usually deals with it. But this stupid, petty little display wasn’t for poor oblivious Scott. It was for the woman sitting next to him. The redhead whose still drilling holes into your skull. 

You’ve got leverage over her that you’ve never had before. Scott wouldn’t take her little foray with Logan very well. And all it would take is a flick of your wrist to give him a very clear image of exactly what you’d seen. Then, her picture-perfect relationship would be over in a matter of seconds. You’re sure Logan would be more than pleased. But he doesn’t seem to understand that Jean just wants to have fun with him, she’d never choose him over Scott. 

“Thanks,” there’s a bite to your tone that you’re not used to. You usually keep your emotions relatively in control. That way you won’t have to wear these cuffs one day. But you feel volatile today. You’re channeling your hurt and turning it into misguided anger. 

You drop your wrists to your sides and stalk toward the front, hovering behind Charle’s and Storm’s chairs so you don’t have to look at the others. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the floor trembling under heavy booted steps. 

Logan’s arms rest on the headrest of the chairs, bracketing you in between them so you can’t escape. He leans forward until his chest is pushed against yours and you can feel every ridge of his muscled torso pressing into you. You try not to suck in a breath, try not to play into the cliche of instantly forgetting why you’re angry when you’re faced with those muscles of his. It is hard, though, because he’s so handsome and so warm and you just want to melt into him. 

“Wanna explain what the hell that was?” His voice is so low, whispering against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. You feel the vibrations of it against your back, his tone more gravelly than it should be. 

You glance over your shoulder at him, face placid and blank. “What? Just needed some help.” Storm looks over at you both and rolls her eyes. 

Logan opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off. “Put a pin in the lover’s spat, we’re landing.” Using just a bit of your power, you push Logan off of you and head towards the back of the jet. There’s a slight jolt as you land and then the ramp opens up and you’re practically running into the snowy forest. 

You don’t know where you are, mainly because you weren’t paying attention, you just know it's fucking freezing. The leather of your suit isn’t doing much to help fight against the chill. Charles stays on the jet and reminds you all that this is only meant to be recon. You’re partnered up with Logan, and as much as it irritates you, you’re not stupid enough to argue against it.

You have to put aside your personal grievances for this mission. You can’t risk the safety of mutants because the guy you like likes another girl. Logan seems pleased about it, stubbornly staying by your side even when you make it clear you want space. 

You both linger behind the other’s as Storm leads you through the forest. Jean is being more touchy with Scott than normal. Either to assuage her own guilt or to rub it in Logan’s face, you’re not sure which. You nearly gag as you watch them whisper to one another, you glance over at Logan to see if he notices. 

You’re startled when you see him already staring at you. His lips tick up into something mischievous when he catches your eye. That smug smirk on his face as he leans in towards you. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed off?”

You roll your eyes and tamp down the rising tide of anger. “Nothing,” you bite out, jaw clenching the longer you stare at the back of Jean’s head. You’re surprised you haven’t chipped a tooth with how hard you’re grinding your teeth together. 

He scoffs, not believing you for a second. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you an expectant stare. You can taste the words forming on your tongue, an irritating urge to just spill your guts overcoming you. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “I’m a little surprised that’s all.”

“Oh yeah, ‘bout what?” You hate how amused he sounds, the chuckle just lying in wait under his words. Like your anger is funny to him, like he didn’t just break your stupid fucking heart. 

You stop walking, not feeling as intimidating as you want while you shiver and huddle into yourself. He seems perfectly at ease in his leather jacket and beater, still refusing to wear the uniform. He leans back and looks at you with a fondness that you can’t tell if you love or hate. “You and little Miss Perfect.” You spit the nickname with enough venom to make both of your eyes widen. 

Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step towards you, again, Storm interrupts you both. “Guys, really?” Everyone turns around to stare and you will the heat in your face away. “Not the time,” she scolds and you brush past Logan to catch up with the others. 

You come upon a warehouse, it’s nearly camouflaged under all the snow. You see two guards waiting outside the metal doors and you all disperse behind the trees. Storm glances towards Jean who focuses on the guards. They drop to the floor and you wave your hands, their guns melting into puddles of metal. 

Logan and Scott move forward, sliding the large metal doors open. You wince at the loud screeching as the rust flakes off the sides. There’s a collective quiet as you all hold your breath, waiting for them to give the all-clear. Once they run inside and run back out, you and the others quickly get to your feet and rush into the warehouse. Logan closes the doors again as you make it inside. 

“No one here?” Storm checks. Scott shakes his head and you frown. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would there be guards if there was nothing inside?

Your question is, unfortunately, answered a minute later. You find a pile of metal crates stacked on top of each other. A large beige tarp covers them. You tug at the corner, letting the fabric slide off. Your eyes flutter with disappointment, “Guys! Over here,” mutants sit inside the crates. Each of them stares at you with varying degrees of mistrust and fear. 

As awful as it is, you’ve gotten used to these quiet depressing missions. There aren’t usually many mutants in one place. They don’t like to keep the product in one spot for too long. There are only four kids here. The youngest is eleven and the oldest is seventeen. There’s nothing physically telling about their abilities so you assume it must be psychic powers. 

They don’t want to come with you until you all give them a demonstration of your powers. Proving that you’re not just trapping them and taking them somewhere worse. You’re nearly out the door when Charles's voice rings loudly through all of your minds. 

You wince at the volume, hands coming up to grip at your hair as he shouts, “Behind you!” A gunshot rings out, something hot rips across your wrist and you gasp in pain. There’s a clatter of metal as your cuff drops to the ground, the bullet having destroyed it. Without them both, they’re useless. One won’t work without the other. 

You glance up at Logan, a panicked look on your face. You can already feel the tidal wave of power thrashing and building in your chest. It’s been so long with the safety net that you forgot how bad it gets without the cuffs. 

“We need to get you out of here!” He shouts over the gunfire. He herds the group behind a cluster of metal shipment boxes. It provides enough cover for you all to try and figure out an escape plan. 

You listen to the other’s worried voices, each of them trying to console the kids. You don’t know their powers yet. Don’t know what might go wrong if they get too scared and can’t control their abilities. 

You can’t speak, breaths coming short and fast as you clutch your wrist to your chest. You know it’s delusional, hoping that if you keep a tight grip like the cuff you might be able to control yourself. You can already feel the energy leaking out of you, the ends of everyone’s hair stands on end. The wall in front of you warps and cracks like it can’t decide if it’s liquid or solid. 

You grit your teeth and look only at Storm. “You need to get out,” you force the words out. It causes physical pain to try and keep everything at bay. You can feel pressure building in your forehead, pushing out until you think you might explode. 

“We’re not leaving you,” Logan snaps. There’s shouting going on behind you, a pause as they all reload their guns. 

“Wasn’t a question,” you grit out. You look towards Jean and there’s a moment where you both put aside your differences. You both know how stubborn he is, how much he’ll fight against leaving you behind. Regenerative powers or not, it's dangerous to even be close to your gift now. You can see them all straining against the ebbing flow of your powers. Their skin shifts unnaturally like you’re already altering the atoms of their being. 

This is why you’re only allowed to train with Charles and Jean. They can get in your head, shut it down when you can’t. You’re not sure you’re going to survive yourself. Logan glances between the two of you and practically growls at Jean, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare-”

His words trail off into an unintelligible slur as he slumps forward, Jean having knocked him out with her powers. Scott grabs him and grunts under the weight of his body. “I’ll cover you,” you gasp the words out. Anything but focusing on your powers causes physical strain that makes you feel like you’re being tugged in a hundred different directions. “Just get them out,” you nod towards the kids. 

Storm nods and you slip out of cover. It isn’t hard to push your powers in one direction, to solidify the air in front of you so the bullets ricochet harmlessly off. You listen to the whine of the metal door and wait for the others to be gone. 

“They’re in the jet,” Charles's voice rings out. “Don’t do this,” he warns. You can’t think of a response, you’re not even sure what you would say. You never thought you would be able to approach death this calmly, or that this would be how you die. It feels almost pathetic, dying because you lost control on a recon mission. 

At least those kids are safe. It’s not a bad reason to die. Just not great. You glance down at the other cuff on your right hand, the air around it fluctuates until it melts off your wrist like liquid metal. With the last barely there tether off your powers, you close your eyes and release the tidal wave. 

It feels like a dam exploding. It doesn’t leak fluidly from you, it rips through you like a hailstorm of knives. Tears apart anything in its path and rewrites the molecular build of everything in its path. Screams echo through the air as men’s bones turn into brittle dust and their hearts morph into something inorganic. You’re blind to everything around you, vision clouded by the horrific release of energy. 

You can feel warmth leaking down your face. Blood still pours from the wound on your wrist, and fresh blood from other wounds you can’t even feel. You don’t know when the screams stop, or when you’re finally drained. But you feel like an empty husk as you drop to the floor, your head bouncing harshly against the cement as everything goes black. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Logan says with a grin, glaring at Scott even though it’s Charles who is holding him back. He’s got a firm mental grasp on Logan, keeping him locked into place while he focuses on the warehouse. 

They’re waiting for the all-clear. The others know there’s always the possibility that they’re going to be collecting a body. But none of them are willing to say that, not with the look on Logan’s face. His muscles look ready to pop out of his skin with how much he’s fighting against Charles’s hold. 

Scott backs away from Logan with a scoff. He stands near Jean, but she can’t take her eyes off the restrained man. Nothing had happened this morning, Flux had seen to that. Interrupting them just as they’d started. Seeing the way he’s acting now, she’s starting to believe that nothing is ever going to happen. 

He’d looked like he was about to dismiss her when she started making a move. She can see the anger on his face, it seems he’s only ever pissed off. But underneath that, as much as he hides it, she can see the fear. He’s terrified that they're going to walk in there and you’re going to be dead. 

Jean can feel the fear of the others as well. They’ve only seen you lose control once and that had almost leveled the mansion. Charles had stopped you then, but the loss of the cuff had been so sudden Jean just barely had enough strength to keep the others blocked from your powers. She didn’t have enough time to shut you down. 

Jean, as much as she’s tried to deny it and dismiss her suspicions, can’t look Logan in the eye and ignore it anymore. It’s never been her that he’s wanted. The way he trails along beside you, always prodding and poking until you’re pissy and mouthing off. It’s not done because he finds antagonizing people fun, it's because he loves seeing you all worked up and passionate. He doesn’t view you through the same platonic lens he does the others. You’re something else to him, something she doesn’t want to name, afraid of the bitter taste it will leave on her tongue. 

Charles slumps back in his chair and Logan suddenly lunges forward. He looks a little surprised by the sudden freedom of movement, but before any of them can stop him he’s running out of the jet. “Logan,” Jean tries to call after him but he’s already a distant blur. 

Scott sighs and starts down the ramp. “Come on,” he mutters. He’s the last one who should be coming along. If anything is wrong with you, he’ll end up being Logan’s punching bag. Jean follows reluctantly, she’s not sure she wants to see what’s happened. 

Your powers are too similar in their volatile nature. The way they rule you and come so close to destroying you when you use them too much, is too familiar to Jean. She doesn’t want to see you lying dead on the floor and be reminded of her own mortality. But someone needs to make sure Logan is stuck on a leash. 

They reach where the warehouse should be. It’s nothing but a pile of rubble now. Throughout the wreckage, Jean can make out odd pools of liquid, some writhing, others still. She can only assume that these had been the men shooting at them. She doesn’t see your body, none of them do. But Logan isn’t giving up. 

He lifts different pieces of metal and tosses them off into the forest. Jean doesn’t sense your presence anywhere but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Logan to give up. After a few minutes of searching, she almost tells him to quit. But she can’t see him anymore. He’s disappeared somewhere behind a particularly large pile of roofing. A moment later, Logan stands up. His jacket is gone, wrapped around the body in his arms. None of them are close enough to see if you’re breathing. And he doesn’t say a word as he brushes past them, just keeps going back to the jet. Ororo, Scott, and Jean all share a silent look. None of them prepared for the potential fallout that’s going to happen after this. 

The first thing you feel is two familiar bands of metal around your wrists. The comforting feeling of the cuffs is enough to have you sinking further into the pillows surrounding you. Then you hear the beeping in your ear, feel the cool blow of AC, and become startlingly aware of the fact that you’re in a bed you don’t recognize. 

You groan, eyes peeling open painfully as your lashes get stuck on your skin. You reach up to rub at your face but your arms feel too weak to lift. You give up on the thought, instead staring up at the ceiling and waiting for your vision to refocus. 

A throat clears in front of you and you nearly jump out of your skin. Sitting at the end of your bed, arms crossed and a fierce glare on his face is Logan. His feet are propped up on the small table beside you. He quirks a brow and gives you a sardonic grin, “Finally awake, princess?”

Normally the name would have you up and doing somersaults, but there’s something distinctly negative and disappointed lacing his tone. It squashes any and all butterflies in your stomach. You grimace as you try and sit up. Logan is up in an instant, an annoyed look still on his face as he helps you up. 

You can’t help your dopey smile at how gentle his hands are on you. Even pissed off, he treats you so kindly. Maybe it’s the drugs relaxing you, or the fact that you almost died, but you can’t remember whatever made you mad at him. You can only feel the slide of his calloused hands against your arms, the way you shiver under his touch and crave more. 

He pulls the chair closer to you with a loud scratch of metal feet on the linoleum. You groan at the loud sound and he huffs, throwing himself down in the seat. “How do you feel?”

Your head sinks back against the wall and you finally realize you’re in the medbay. It’s why everything smells so sterile. “Like I got hit by a semi.”

He barely lets you finish your thought before he spits out, “What the fuck were you thinking?” He doesn’t ease you into this at all and you frown. You’re not sure why you would expect him to ever beat around the bush. That’s not his style, he’s always been blunt. Even when others wish he wouldn’t be. 

“What else was I supposed to do?” You ask, voice weak. Your throat feels like it’s been ripped apart. Idly, you wonder if you had been screaming in the warehouse or if this was just general strain from the whole ordeal. 

“Not put yourself at risk like that.” He leans forward, voice stern and bordering on shouting. You know he’s holding back. As much as he wants to lay into you right now, he’s stopping himself from going completely out of his mind. You appreciate it, but you almost wish he would just yell at you. You wish you had a reason to resent him, to finally get over him. “Not have Jean knock me out like that. You don’t get to make those decisions for me.”

It’s completely inappropriate and horrible timing, but you can’t help but scoff at the mention of Jean’s name. Can you not have one conversation that’s not tainted by the mention of the redhead?

Logan’s mouth snaps shut and he glares at you in disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him as embarrassment washes over you. No wonder he always calls you kid. You’re not exactly acting like an adult. You’re being a brat and for such a stupid reason too. 

Just because you like him doesn’t mean he has to reciprocate. You can’t just force your feelings on someone. “Logan,” you whisper his name, “Sorry. I’m sorry-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. Some of the anger, but not all, has ebbed from his expression. He almost looks like he’s smiling. “Jean? That’s what this is about? Jealous or something, sweetheart?”

You sputter, shocked little noises leaving you but no words. After a solid minute of restarting a sentence you don’t know how to end you finally land on a squeaky, “Who?” If you weren’t so mortified, you might have just thrown yourself out the window. Out of every cop-out you could have gone with you chose to just pretend you didn’t know who she was. Maybe you could make this work, like selective amnesia. 

Your shame only builds as Logan laughs. You cover your face and wish you could bury yourself six feet deep and never come up. You feel two rough hands wrap around your wrists, tugging your own away from your face. You don’t have the energy to fight back, so you keep your eyes on his chin. Too afraid to meet his gaze. 

“Come on,” he mutters, gently nudging your chin up until you’re forced to look at him. You're caught off guard by the look in his eyes. You recognize it, but you’d only ever seen it directed at Jean. It’s the same way you’ve always looked at him. Pure unguarded want and desire. 

The hand on your chin drifts back, fingers tangling in your hair and gently resting on your jaw. He tugs you forward until your lips are nearly touching, breaths mingling with every exhale. “Only ever wanted you, darlin'.’”

The kiss catches you off guard. It shouldn’t, deep down you knew it was coming, but the intensity behind it, the way you can practically taste how bad he wants this, wants you, catches you off guard. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt into his hold. 

His free hand drifts to your waist and clutches the flimsy hospital gown until you hear it tear. You part your lips, deepening the kiss so you can finally taste him. It’s cigars and whiskey, something you should hate but is entirely intoxicating when he’s holding you so tightly. Fireworks are going off in your mind, sparks darting between your fingers as the cuffs struggle to contain all the energy suddenly pushing out of you. 

He can feel you holding back, squeezing you like it’s a promise he can take it. Take everything you throw at him. You let go as much as your cuffs will allow you. Let the energy blanket you both so you can’t hear your heart monitor going off like crazy. So you don’t feel anything other than each other. You think you’re going to devour each other like you’ll just keep kissing until neither of you can take it anymore. You don’t want to let go of him, don’t want to lose this moment. 

But you have to breathe. You don’t get to just keep living the way he does. You pull away from him slowly, every part of you dreading separating from him. His forehead drops against your own, his laughter playing along your lips as he finally hears the monitor going haywire. 

You groan, flicking your wrist and shutting it off so it can’t betray how flustered you are anymore. He gently nudges you aside so he can sit beside you on the bed. You don’t waste a second before you’re draping yourself across his chest and siphoning his warmth. He chuckles, arms coming up to wrap around you. 

“Can’t believe you were jealous of Jean.”

“Shut up,” you snipe. You look up at him and glare, “How else do you explain what you two were doing?”

He leans forward and gives you a smug grin. “She came onto me, sweetheart.” Your face screws up in distaste and jealousy. She’s going to need to learn to keep her hands to herself. He seems to feel the way you tense up, he huffs in amusement and rubs your back. “Relax, you’re gonna blow your fuse again.”

You glance down at your wrists and nuzzle further into him. You can’t believe you could have been laying on him this whole time. You never want to use a blanket again, not when you’ve got him. “I’ll be fine now that I’ve got my cuffs.”

His hand stills on your bicep. He squeezes it before his hand drifts up to your chin and he tilts your face up again. “I don’t ever want to see that again.” You’re a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but you knew this was coming. 

“I had to, Logan. I either took you all down with me or I went on my own.”

Logan frowns and takes in a deep breath. You place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiles down at you, “Next time, take me with you. I’m not fucking dealing with Summers without you.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Your face grows warm and your chest expands with some odd gleeful feeling as he laces your fingers together. “Deal,” you whisper, still smiling at him. 

A/N: Okay, this might be shit, I’m not sure. I sort of rushed the ending because as I was writing this I had another idea for him. I guess I’m officially off my hiatus. 

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

hi everyone! this is my first ever attempt at writing smut teehee >:3 the idea for this had my head spinning so i had to write about it, i hope you like it!! mwah >3<

imagine being loved by me . ۫ ꣑ৎ . - e.w

jackson!ellie x reader | 4.1k words

a/n: hiiii! i'm kinda nervous, this is my first time posting something smutty >.< i hope i did a good job, enjoy!

cw: nsfw, afab reader, cursing, smoking weed, they're both high but everything is completely consensual, nipple play (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving)

summary: your relationship with ellie is a recent development, at the point now of teetering on the edge of the deep end, so close to becoming something more serious for you both. with the help of a some maybe a little too much weed and how irritatingly good she looks in that grey hoodie of hers, you might just take that plunge.

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

you knew it was a bad idea, to let yourself get this high with ellie. you’d done this so many times before, truly abusing the gift that was accidentally stumbling into eugene’s old weed den while out on patrol together once. but back then you were just friends, two lumbering idiots excited over this newfound high that had you both giggling until you gasped for air. now things are different.

your relationship was still new, its legs still a little shaky like those of a newborn fawn. but being with ellie started to feel as easy as breathing the longer you spent together, slowly but surely figuring out what that transition from friends to lovers meant for the both of you.

“do you want any more?” ellie asked through stifled coughs, extending out her hand that held the lit joint. through a lot of trial and error, you had figured out what your threshold was and tended not to push that limit, your mind already sinking into that floaty headspace you loved so much.

despite this you hummed in thought for a moment, your reddened eyes shifting to ellie lazily leaning against the outside wall of her garage. she was wearing that grey hoodie that made your jaw clench every time you saw her in it, how she made something so simple look so good was unknown to you. you certainly weren’t complaining though.

“hmm… you know what? sure,” you shrug before reaching for the joint, because who are you to say no when she looks like that? you feel that familiar pang in your stomach when your fingers brush against hers. you almost laugh out loud at how pathetic it feels to still react to her this way, not yet fully wrapping your head around the fact that she’s actually yours. 

you get lost in the fluidity of well-trained muscle memory, passing the joint back and forth. and before you know it you’re getting that rush of fuzziness in your brain that brings out that dopey smile of yours and giggles with no particular cause.

ellie looks at you with an amused smile, noticing the adorably dumb look in your glossy eyes. 

“you okay, baby?” she chuckles as she observes you in your blissed-out state. you hum contently, the sound of that name rolling so perfectly off of her tongue, nodding enthusiastically in response.

her tolerance is a lot higher than yours, which you always complained to her about as if she could transfer the trait to you, so she was enjoying the entertainment of you being high out of your mind.

“y’look so pretty, els,” you sigh, ellie’s chest tightening at the way you’re looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

“really?” she huffs out a laugh, “i look like shit.” she gives herself a once-over, her hair a little messy from a busy day in jackson and her comfort hoodie thrown carelessly over her clothes.

you let out an exaggerated gasp, unable to fathom how she could look anything other than devastatingly gorgeous right now. 

“nooo, shit looks like you!” you say in a poor attempt to rebuke her statement, your befuddled condition making you fumble your words.

“oh wow, so you do agree?”

“no, no, no, wait! i messed up what i was saying-”

“uh huh, sure. c’mon, let’s get you inside, dork.”

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

things were peaceful for a while, the two of you in a cosy embrace on ellie’s bed as she reread one of her favourite savage starlight comics. you were draped across her chest, mindlessly glancing at the pages, entertained by the colourful art but not quite absorbing any of the plot.

you then make the mistake of looking up at ellie, cheek squishing against her shoulder as you admire her. your gaze flowed down the outline of her side profile like a water droplet. it started at her forehead, a place you so often left tender kisses upon. it beads down between her scarred brows, which you thought made her look so frustratingly cool, trickling across the freckled slope of her nose where it then drops off of the tip, leaving your focus right where her lips are.

your stomach flutters; the only thing your brain can focus on is how badly you want to kiss her. she wasn’t even doing anything purposefully enticing, but she didn’t have to for you to lose your mind.

ellie could feel your watchful orbs practically burning holes through her, unable to keep herself from looking back at you any longer.

“see something interesting?” ellie startles you a little as she breaks the silence, rapidly blinking at her as you regain your bearings.

“hmm… interesting is one way to describe it.” your voice has a lilt to it, the sound light and a little shy. ellie thinks you’re so precious.

“whatcha lookin’ at, pretty?” she pries, enjoying it maybe a little too much as she watches you fumble at the question, eyes darting between anywhere else in the room and what you were truly captivated by: her lips.

“ellieee…” you whine, moving so your face is hidden in her neck. your breath fans over her skin in a warm gust, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she swallows thickly. fuck.

“c’mon, i know you want something.” she’s purposefully trying to rile you up, placing the bookmark you made for her between the pages of her comic, and tossing it to the side. she was far more interested in you now.

“says who?” you weakly argue back.

“uh, says the look on your face. you’re not very subtle, babe.”

in all fairness, what you wanted might as well have appeared in a comedic thought bubble above your head with how clearly it was written across your face.

you mumble a quiet, “shut up,” ellie having you completely cornered. a low chuckle rumbles in her chest, your defeat amusing her.

“can you look at me, please?” ellie’s voice is gentle, that teasing cadence still present but it’s overpowered by something softer. she doesn’t just want you to look at her, she needs you to.

you pull away from your hiding place in her neck, bashful bambi eyes looking up at her finally.

“there she is,” ellie coos and it makes your head spin. your eyes gravitate back down to her lips, unable to ignore the magnetic pull they seemed to have. she knew what you wanted and you knew she wanted it too, but ellie just had to make it hard for you.

“tell me what you want and you can have it,” she whispers playfully. a reluctant groan leaves your wanting lips, (loving) hating the way she found such obvious joy in watching you squirm under her gaze.

you ultimately give in, the frayed rope that was tethering you to what was left of your self-restraint promptly snapping.

“please kiss me.”

so she does, her lips on yours in one fluid motion as she reaches up to cup your jaw. you sigh contently against her mouth now that she’s finally freeing you from this waiting game, melting as you hungrily chase each other's lips.

you feel lightheaded by the time ellie is gently guiding you onto your back, caging you in from above as if hiding you from the rest of the world. she was devouring you, selfish and possessive as she kissed you with an urgency that had you wondering if your lips would bruise. you were undeniably hers and ellie needed you to know it. and of course, you did, you didn’t see how things could be any other way.

it felt like you were about to burst; you could feel her everywhere. her calloused hand holding your face so sweetly, the mind-numbing kisses she was firmly planting onto your lips, hoping that her imprint would take root there and ruin you for anybody else. the way her knee slotted between your thighs with ease, the roughness of her jeans rubbing against you, leaving a tingle on your skin.

ellie had stolen all of the breath from your lungs, gasping for air as you pulled away from her, chest heaving. soft pants filled the air, sharing breathy giggles between the two of you. 

“hi,” you say dumbly, that same dopey grin from earlier stretching across your kiss-swollen lips.

“hi,” she repeats back, freckled cheeks dusted with a pink tint as she looks at you with glimmering eyes.

she barely gives you time to catch your breath before she’s leaning in to trail burning hot kisses down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, the flesh there sensitive under her loving attack. then she reached that spot, one she had discovered recently, pride swelling up in her chest after you made a noise she hadn’t heard from you before. she desperately wanted to hear it again.

a gasp of her name escapes your lips as she sucks and bites on the area, squirming beneath her as you feel her smile against your neck.

“yeah? you need something, baby?” she sounded so fucking cocky. if only you knew the way her heart was racing inside its bony cage, butterflies- no, more like a swarm of wasps invading her stomach. you looked so pretty underneath her, you sounded it too. the little hitches in your breath and your high-pitched whines had her hooked. it was like she was experiencing a whole new high as she watched you grow needier beneath her.

“need you.” your breathless plea is all she requires before her lips are back on yours, determined and eager.

as attractive as she looked in it you needed her out of that damn hoodie, your grabby hands tugging at it as a silent request for her to take it off. of course ellie obliges, why would she ever deny you?

she retreats for a moment to yank the grey fabric over her head, her t-shirt riding up a little in the process and it has you reeling. you felt utterly depraved having such a visceral reaction to the sliver of skin, feeling that familiar ache forming between your legs at the sight.

she was back on you again in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. you wanted to feel her, to bask in her body’s warmth as she drew those pretty sounds from you that she couldn’t get enough of.

“more, i need to feel you closer, fuck please-” your curious hands are creeping their way under her shirt now, nails dragging gently up her back. you watch as she shivers at the sensation, her head hanging low as a shaky breath passes her lips.

she’d do whatever you asked her to right now, grasping the hem of her t-shirt before pulling it over her head. you can’t help but gawk at her, completely stupefied by the sight. this was new, your clothes had always remained on up until now.

ellie feels on fire under your gaze, your half-lidded stare trailing over the definition chiselled into her stomach. you’re trying to add up every freckle you could see scattered across her pale skin, too many for you to count but you desperately wanted to know the number anyway because you wanted to know her.

“can i take your shirt off?” she sounds desperate and it puts you at ease being able to hear that she wants you just as bad as you want her.

“please, ellie,” is all you breathe out before she’s keenly dragging your shirt over your head. her eyes might as well be completely black with how big her pupils have grown, the weed mixed with the heavenly sight of you sprawled out beneath her enough to make her dizzy.

intimacy like this was somewhat new territory for you both as a couple. only recently was it that your eager hands and desperate touches made their way beneath the barriers of cotton and denim, a wall you hadn’t fully breached yet until now. but with how good she was making you feel, you knew you needed more.

brick by brick you tore it down, discarding each other’s clothing until you were left in nothing but your underwear. ellie needed to see you, all of you, her fingers twitching as they inched closer to your bra. she asks to take it off and you’re nodding your head in agreement before she can even finish her sentence. your back arches to give her room to unclasp it, feeling it grow loose around you before it’s being slid down your arms. there you are.

ellie is sure you’ve cast a spell on her, entranced by the sight of you laid almost fully bare beneath her, watching the way your chest would rise and fall as you sucked in breaths.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” she rasps in a tone reminiscent of the whines she would relentlessly mock you for. you were too far gone now to comment on it but you noticed, you could tease her about it later.

she can’t bear to not have her lips on you any longer, leaning down to trail sweet kisses down your neck once more, only this time letting herself go lower and lower.

a pathetic mewl escapes you as you feel her mouth capture one of your hardened nipples, arching into her as she sucks it into the wet warmth of her mouth. everything is so sensitive right now, the joint you smoked earlier still serving its purpose incredibly well. 

you would let her eat you whole if she asked, addicted to the contrast of her soft lips and her biting teeth as they began to mark the supple swell of your tits. you had barely started and she already had you seeing stars, her knee experimentally pushing against your clothed cunt with a little more force than before.

you’re positively soaked at this point, hyper-aware of the cool stickiness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear. and it only gets worse for you when ellie at last decides to discard her sports bra, leaving her in just her boxers.

she’s so pretty above you, touching you in a way that makes you feel sacred.

ellie moves impossibly closer to capture your lips once more, she can’t get enough of you. you can feel all of her, skin to skin as your sensitive tits push up against each other as she lays her weight on top of you. the feeling of her grounds you, keeping you from feeling like you’re floating away. 

you’re panting into each other’s mouths, a mess of needy gasps and whines as you try and merge into one.

“please let me taste you, baby. i need it- need you.”

you’d be a fool to say no to her.

you watch as she kisses her way down your body, cherishing you like you were going to disappear at any moment. you’re throbbing beneath your underwear, clenching around nothing as she plants careful kisses over the material.

she chuckles as you whimper in frustration despite her needing this just as much as you. she looks up at you for any signs of discomfort that may have flown under her radar, but all she sees is unwavering adoration. you’re squirming but you wait so patiently for her touch, lower lip caught between your teeth in anticipation. so good for her.

you shudder as she drags your panties down the length of your legs, not missing the string of arousal that connects you to the fabric just a little longer before ellie’s throwing them in some random direction. 

she’s face to face with your aching cunt now, almost salivating at the sight of your glistening folds right in front of her, waiting for her to do something.

“ellie, please don’t tease,” you whine, hips bucking in a desperate attempt to entice her closer. she’s truly not trying to drag this out, although she does love to tease you, she’s just completely enamoured by the sight of you.

“sorry, baby,” ellie snaps herself out of her trance, “c’mere, need to taste that pussy,” she sighs dreamily.

it’s like you can feel the chemistry of your brain changing after the first drag of her tongue between your folds, all of your senses flooded by only her and you know now that you’ll spend the rest of your days chasing the feeling.

the sight of her between your thighs is already overwhelming, her eyes rolling back as she savours the heady taste of you. you can hear how wet you are as her tongue ravages you, moaning against you as if she was the one getting fucked. the pleasure was dizzying, your hand weaving into the strands of her hair in a desperate attempt to keep yourself tethered to this reality.

“fuuuck, ellie!” you squeal, her nose nudging your clit as she practically buries her face in your pussy. her eyes open to look up at you, a guttural groan rumbling in her throat as she watches your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, brows furrowed and lips pouty as you let her have her way with you.

ellie can’t fathom how she’s supposed to want to be anywhere else but between your legs now that she’s finally gotten a taste of you. all of those longing glances and lingering touches from when you were both just friends had somehow led her here. her rightful place, she was sure of it.

she was taking mental notes of all the cute little noises she dragged out of you, noticing how you shuddered and whined when she flicked her tongue just right, clenching around nothing as she sucked your swollen bud into her mouth.

“god, you’re so fucking beautiful. can i use my fingers? please, baby, i’ll make you feel so good i promise.”

she sounds downright insatiable, begging you to let her make you feel good like she could feel it herself. she was convinced that she could, the wet patch on her boxers growing larger the longer she spent savouring you.

“yes please- oh fuck- please, ellie…”

she has rendered you almost completely mindless, dragging her finger up and down your slick folds. she experimentally pushes it inside of you, watching intently as your eyes flutter at the sensation.

“yeah, that feel good, pretty?” ellie asks in that low, sultry tone of hers that makes your stomach do cartwheels. all you can do is eagerly nod, lightning shooting through your limbs as she reattaches her mouth to your pussy. amidst all of this, she slides in a second finger, your slick helping her enter you with ease as a strangled moan leaves your mouth.

you could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. the combination of her tongue lapping against your folds, her fingers dragging against that sweet spot inside of you and the weed still buzzing in your system has you ready to give her everything you’d been holding back.

she could feel it too, the telltale clenching around her fingers and the way you struggled to form a coherent sentence. and she was obsessed with it, about ready to cum in her boxers just from the taste of you.

“els, i’m so close- oh my god, please let me cum. please, please, please-”

she pulls away for a moment, still pumping her fingers into you to keep you on that edge.

“you gonna cum for me, baby? that’s right, give it to me, c’mon.”

ellie had learned alarmingly fast just how to coax you into giving her exactly what she wants, your legs starting to tense up as she dives back into you, lips messily making out with your cunt.

you could feel her everywhere and it almost scared you, completely unable to escape the undeniable reality of how fucking in love you are with her and it’s making you feral.

“e-ellie, i think i’m gonna- fuck, i’m cumming!” your mind goes blank as she pushes you over the edge, feeling the waves of it throughout your entire body as you convulsed around her fingers.

your hips buck frantically as you ride out your high, ellie’s muffled moans vibrating against your sensitive entrance as she greedily lapped up your juices. 

“oh my god, ellie! fuck, i love you, i love you, loveyousomuch-” you mindlessly babble without thinking, too far gone to notice the way ellie’s eyes widen and her thrusts speed up ever so slightly.

you let her indulge in you until you had to squirm away from the overstimulation, your body limp and tired after she had just wrecked you. you try to regain your bearings, feeling ellie remove herself from between your legs and move so she can hold you against her.

she litters sweet kisses across your face, humming happily as you turn your head to capture her lips with yours once again. you whimper at the taste of yourself on her mouth, melting into her until your breathing starts to even out.

“you okay?” she whispers, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down your arm. you hum sleepily, nodding your head in response.

“are you okay?” you ask her back, voice soft and a little hoarse now.

“yeah, i’m okay, baby. y’did so well for me.” ellie pecks the top of your head, completely smitten as she looks at your limp body cuddled up in her arms.

she thinks back to a few minutes ago of you professing your love for her as she made you come undone, her stomach fluttering at the recent memory. she debates waiting until you’re not half asleep to ask about it, but she just can’t help herself.

“did you mean what you said? when you said that… you loved me?” she’s nervous to ask, not knowing how she’d react if you had just said it on a whim. nothing more than just words.

“i said that?” you ask in confusion. you look mortified and ellie’s stomach twists. these aren’t the butterflies she had felt with you moments before, it felt like she’d been poisoned.

“y-yeah… you said it when you finished.” you’re quiet for a little while, this worries ellie. she feels like an idiot, her palms are starting to get sweaty. did she just ruin everything? fuck, fuck, fuck-

really you were just trying to rack your brain for when those very important words had left your mouth. and then you hear it, transported back to the memory in a third-person view.

she’s making you feel so good, your back arching as the shockwaves of your orgasm slam into you. you look down at her, and she looks undoubtedly obsessed with you. she’s latched onto your pussy like she’s starving, drinking in everything that you give her. and then you say it. a raw and terrifyingly real confession of, “i love you.” and you say it again and again, chanting it like a prayer as you promised her your heart like it was nothing.

“oh my god, ellie i’m so sorry.” she almost winces, she shouldn’t have said anything-

“i wanted to tell you how i felt properly on a date or something, not while you made me cum like a fucking loser, shit-”

ellie is confused for a moment, having been bracing herself for you to tell her that you don’t love her the way she definitely did you. but then you didn’t…

oh.

“this is so embarrassing,” you whine, furrowing your brows angrily when you see the cheesy grin making its way across ellie’s face. “don’t laugh at me! this is so humiliating.”

“no no, i’m not laughing at you! fuck no, i thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t mean what you said.” you tilt your head, the both of you now a little confused.

“oh…” you whisper. but if she wasn’t uncomfortable with you saying that you love her did that mean…?

“thought i was dreaming when i heard you say it. but i wasn’t and i am so fucking happy.” she holds you a little tighter now. “i love you so much, been wanting to tell you for a while now.”

“tell me again.” your request is simple but she knew how much it meant. ellie gently takes your hand and holds it in front of her face, leaning forward to press her lips to each finger tip.

“i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” another kiss.

there’s a warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t ignore and you feel so safe in her arms. floaty and calm whilst you snuggle into her side, your eyes flutter tiredly as she tells you she loves you as many times as you need to hear.

maybe getting a little too high with ellie wasn’t such a bad idea.

Enrichment time !!! (maladaptive daydreaming whole listening to music and pretending fictional characters are in love with me)

crying and throwing up /pos

first kiss with abby ୨ৎ

summary: after the romantic tension between you and abby reaches a peak, you two finally share a sweet kiss.

content: answer to this req and part two to this!! fluffyfluffyfluffy! ehehehehehe. i love fluff i love writing fluff. nothing nsfw. just lowk domesticity with abby and then super cutesy pie origami stuff and then a kiss 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋 ok toodles enjoy

notes: three weeks of no post i’m sorry my children. i am back!!! classes just finished and now i have summer break so i just had to soak in my freedom from my fuckass med teacher. he can choke fr 💯

(wc 1.6k)

a series of vibrations from your phone rudely pulls you out of your sleep and you swipe your hand across the bed to silence the notifications. you find your phone connected to abby's charger on her vacant side of the bed, the sheets cold without the warmth from her skin to heat them up. she always ran hot—especially during the night—which usually resulted in her yelping at your cold feet pressed to her thighs and trying to absorb her warmth in the hours of the night. 

you raise your phone to your face and are met with four notifications from abby on your home screen. 

abby :p otw back with our loot  

abby :p two berry pastries for the missus and one cream cheese puff pastry for me 

abby :p and nadia gave us two chocolate croissants bc we're super cool 

swiping to unlock your phone, you head to messages and reply to her. 

you YAY thanks you're the best 

you we gotta get nadia a gift card or somethin

you or a bottle of liquor 

you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth with your toothbrush abby got for you for her apartment since you slept over so often. while you load your brush with toothpaste, your phone lights up with a notice from messages: "abby :p loved 'or a bottle of liquor.' " sticking the toothbrush in your mouth, you smile around the minty foam and continue freshening up before abby returns. 

around ten minutes later, you hear the jingle of her keys at the front door and practically skip to the living room to retrieve your pastries. 

abby unlocks the door and pushes it open, a brown bag with a cafe logo printed on it in one hand and a drink carrier with two coffee cups hanging from her ring and pinky fingers in her other. with her few remaining fingers grasping onto her car keys to not drop them, she nudges the door back shut with her hip and locks it. 

her blonde head donns a blue and white trucker hat, the brim of it blocking her from seeing you standing and sheepishly smiling a few strides away. she calls out to you to signal her return. 

"hey, i'm back! and i come bearing gifts. i got-" it's then that abby takes her hat off and notices you inching ever closer. "oh, hi. i got you herbal tea. there weirdly was a lot of traffic today, even though it's, like, seven." 

she continues on as she unpacks everything that she got for you. "then again, i guess kids have school. man, i hated that about high school—waking up early and getting to class on tim- you know what? you're not listening anyway with your food right in front of you," she chuckles. "go on. release! free!" she pokes, using command words for a dog. 

you kiss your teeth and scowl at her, mumbling a "whatever" before tearing into the paper bag. you're met with your two fruit pastries first, then you spot the chocolate croissants abby mentioned under them. 

the two of you stand and eat in comfortable silence in the kitchen, you sipping on your tea and abby picking at her puff pastry. when you finish, you clean both of your spots and abby throws away the paper bag and pastry wrappers, washing her hands after.

after breakfast, you guys ping pong around her apartment, moving from her bed to the couch to the floor and then back to her bed again, all just to talk or scroll on your phones.

hours pass, and after a brief joint nap in her bedroom, you guys now sat on the floor of her living room, light filtering in from her large windows and warming your skin. the floor was littered in origami squares of all different sizes and colors, the origami book abby had gotten for you split open between you two. 

there was a village of origami figures surrounding you, from hearts to frogs to ladybugs to cranes. the book was flipped to a particularly challenging page of an elephant, and you looked over at abby in confusion. 

she was just as confused as you, if not more. her hair was tied in a messy golden knot at the nape of her neck, loose strands crazy and framing her face. her brows were pulled tight on her face, her eyes bewildered and looking at the same piece of paper in her hands as if she'd never seen it before. 

"what step are you on?" she asks, looking at the square in front of you that you were working on. 

"twelve. out of..." you flip the page twice. "god. thirty." you sit up straight to stretch your back out. "i get it, though. kinda." 

"what? show me. i’m on, like, seven. i swear they skipped a step. or forgot to add a picture. just something is wrong." 

you scoot over to sit next to her, pulling your leg to your body and propping your cheek on it. abby places her piece in front of you puts her hands in her crossed lap, her eyes wide and waiting for you to make sense of her issue. 

"okay, let's see." you pull the book closer to you to confirm the step she's on. "step seven is... rotating and folding the back of the elephant." 

"which i did," abby verifies. 

you rotate the piece and immediately find her mistake. "which you did not." 

"what?! where?" 

"here." you trace your finger along the missing crease. "you see how on mine, this part is creased and pointed? like a peak?" 

"uh-huh..." 

"and yours doesn't do that." 

she simply hums, so you look over at her to confirm that she's listening. her eyes are unfocused and locked on your face. they flit between your own and then drop to your lips for a second. the single second feels quite long, though, when she looks so deeply at you in the way that she does, or when her baby hairs draw attention to her blonde lashes, long and very slightly curled around her sapphire eyes. 

she seems to snap out it—whatever it was—and she deeply inhales, licking her lips and refocusing on the task at hand. 

"can you repeat that?" she asks. "sorry, i... i zoned out." 

it was your turn, now, to lose focus and examine her. you stare at her lips, rosy and still glossy from her just licking them. you stare at the corners of them and the ever so slight frown her mouth always pulls into when she's focused. you stare at the little creases in them, the dozens of lines that- 

"are you looking at my lips?" she questions, interrogative and almost paranoid. 

"oh, um, sorry. i was-" 

"why were you looking at them?" she interrupts again, her eyes wild and demanding an answer from you. 

"because, i- well, you just licked them, so- i don't know. because." you swallow, mumbling, "what, can i not look at them or something?" 

her stone stare softens after noticing your flustered state, and the two of you exchange a long and quiet look. 

abby held her breath nearly the entire time. she didn't want to assume anything or read the situation wrong, but your eyes were dilated. they were dilated from looking at her, and just from that. 

as if it were out of your control—like you were magnets—you started moving closer to her. abby could not seem to remember how to control a single muscle in her body, so she just sat and watched you move closer as her cheeks grew pinker and pinker. 

you stop right in front of her face, the tips of your noses kissing and your breaths shared. after a few seconds, you realized abby wouldn't initiate anything, so you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers, short and sweet. when you pulled away, abby's eyes remained closed for a few seconds before they slowly fluttered open. 

"you just kissed me," abby whispers in disbelief, pointing out the obvious. 

"i just kissed you," you echo back. 

it's abby who leans in for the second kiss, thick and intense with emotion, her hand sliding up your arm. her hand reaches the back of your neck, and she pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. 

you press your forehead to hers and stop kissing her, an infectious smile taking up your features instead. 

"are you.. are you seriously smiling right now?" abby gasps theatrically with mock offense. 

your smile breaks out into giggles and you press your face into her cheek to hide. 

"wow, i cannot believe this. you are laughing at our kiss!" she teases. 

"stop, no i’m not!" you plead, still laughing. 

"whatever you say." she grabs your chin between her fingers and pulls your face back to look at you. peppering kisses on your cheeks, she relents on her taunting.  

"are you gonna show me what i did wrong, or what?" she says, referring to the initial topic of her paper elephant. 

you smile back at her. "yeah, i will." 

"okay." she presses one last kiss to your temple and then waits for your instruction. 

"i was saying, there's supposed to be a crease here, on what'll be the back of the elephant." 

abby nods and hums like she's listening, but really, she smiles at your profile as you continue to speak. 

@abbysbug @abbyonmars @abigails-gf @picklesarenice69

heheheh all done!!!! this was so cute to write especially the end like i was talking to @abbyonmars while i wrote the end and we were fangirling over typed words and pixels. but what else is tumblr dot com for if not to fangirl!!!!

Forbidden Crown: ch. III

Summary: Kit and Airk visit Azarenth to celebrate your fifteenth birthday, but when your mother delivers some earth-shattering news, your relationships with the twins crumble. After an ‘experiment’ gone wrong, you realize some things about yourself that could destroy your life, as well as those of the people around you.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: angst, boy-kissing, girl-kissing, implied vomiting (not graphic), half-smut, heavy petting, second base, forced marriage, nightmare

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: it’s getting steamy up in here

The day you turned fifteen was a cause of celebration for all of Azarenth. Your parents held an elaborate banquet in your honor, complete with minstrels and jesters, and invited the entire kingdom to celebrate. All day long, you received birthday wishes and blessings from the townspeople, indulged in your favorite foods, and drowned in a seemingly endless sea of presents. Luxurious garments, precious jewelry, fine craftsmanship; you were gracious for every one, but none compared to the greatest gift of them all.

“Tomorrow morning, the twins from Tir Asleen will be riding in for a visit.” Your mother informed you later that evening, after all the party guests had gone home.

You froze in your tracks, the news leaving you momentarily speechless. “Really? They’re visiting here?”

“Well I’d prefer not to have Kit stay,” your mother scoffed. “But heaven forbid I take one without the other.”

Far too excited to acknowledge your mother’s snide remark, you rushed to wrap your arms around her, expressions of gratitude flying from your lips. She stiffened at your touch, only obliging with a reluctant pat on your back.

Just when you felt like you were on top of the world, everything came crashing down in a matter of seconds.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior while they’re here, please put in the extra effort to make Airk feel comfortable. In five years’ time, you will be his bride.”

You froze again, the last sentence hitting you like a sledgehammer to a stone wall. Slowly, you removed your arms from her torso, stepping back to meet her gaze. “Pardon?”

“Sorsha and I decided it was time to tell you both,” she explained calmly. “We’ve been arranging this marriage to unite our kingdoms since you were young.”

Confusion, anger, betrayal; a plethora of emotions swarmed you as you stood there, stunned. “You’re telling me this now?”

“Darling, you’re fifteen now, a woman. We didn’t want to scare you when you were children but it’s high time you start to think about the future of Azarenth.”

Realization hit you like a pound of bricks. “That’s why you always put so much emphasis on a relationship with Airk? You were preparing us for marriage?”

“Well I see no reason for such commotion! From what you’ve told me, you and Airk get along quite well. I’m sure you’ll make a fine couple.”

She dismissed you with a wave of her hand before retreating to her bedchamber for the night, leaving you standing there in a puddle of conflicting feelings. On one hand, Airk was pleasant company, and he could make a fine ruler one day. On the other hand, your heart didn’t long for him, and just the thought of you two being expected to produce heirs made you feel ill.

In five years, in five short years, you would be Princess Airk Tanthalos. You closed your eyes, testing out the name once on your lips before running outside and dropping to your knees, emptying your stomach's contents into the street.

That night was spent tossing and turning in bed, fighting off images of a marriage to Airk before they overpowered you, transforming into a nightmare as you slipped into slumber.

You were walking through the Tir Asleen gardens with Kit, picking bouquets of flowers and laughing at nothing but your own contagious joy. Just when you were almost done arranging your flowers, she seized your hand without warning, forcing you to drop your bouquet and pulling you away from the garden.

“Kit! Where are we going?” You chuckled, but never received an answer.

Instead, she pulled you into the doors of the castle and led you through every room. Each room seemed to stretch on forever, the exit nothing more than an optical illusion. With every new step, Kit moved faster until you were practically chasing after her, each breath coming in ragged gasps as your feet slapped against the cold stone floor.

Finally, Kit led you back outside, where you seemed to have spent so long in the castle that the sky was now a dark black with no moon in sight. She continued to pull you until you stood in front of the garden once again, where she slowed her pace before pausing at the entrance. This time, instead of the garden being filled with fragrant flowers and low-hanging trees, it was furnished to look like a wedding ceremony, with Airk standing at the end of the aisle. All of the guests turned in their chairs, staring at you with stone-like expressions.

You looked down and found that your everyday clothing had been replaced with an extravagant wedding gown. “Kit,” you whispered, squeezing her hand. “Why have you brought me here?”

Kit turned to look at you, leaving you horrified as her face morphed into that of your mother’s. Her demeanor remained still and frosty as she dropped your hand like a forgotten promise.

“The future is upon us, Princess Airk Tanthalos.”

You shot up in bed, gasping for breath as your heart raced. Pressing a hand to your chest, you inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to calm down. The window facing outside showed the sky still an impenetrable black, clear and streaked with twinkling stars. You groaned, flopping back onto your mattress as you reluctantly prepared for the remainder of a restless night.

You practically sleepwalked through the next morning, the dark circles under your eyes hanging like crescent moons in the night sky. After grunting a barely perceptible greeting to your parents, you took your seat at the breakfast table and started on the meal the chefs had prepared for you. Each bite tasted like gray mush. You chewed mechanically, feeling as if your emotions were so dulled that even your taste buds were affected.

Silence filled the breakfast table as everyone noticed you weren’t your usual chipper self. Even your father noticed something was off and attempted to speak before your mother shot him an icy glare, placing her hand over his as an unspoken warning.

Before you even had time to pass out onto your plate, the familiar clip-clop of a horse-drawn carriage sounded from outside, signaling the twins' arrival. You stood up, trailing behind your parents as you stepped outside to greet your guests.

A creamy white horse stood just outside the castle entrance, attached to a rugged coachman steering a wooden carriage. Airk was the first to step out, shaking out his chestnut curls and smoothing the fabric of his thin tunic. The morning sun reflected off his green eyes, making them look like two polished emeralds.

Although you weren’t attracted to him, you had to admit, he had grown into a handsome lad. You began to wonder if there was a chance that marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, that maybe you could make it work, and learn to live somewhat content.

But then Kit stepped out of the carriage, and the very thought of marrying her brother became distasteful again. She was pale, and the dark circles under her eyes only accentuated her lack of color. Her clothing was loose, wrinkly, and her barely chin-length tresses were dyed black with an indigo plant.

To anyone else, she appeared as a tired mess, a pathetic excuse for a princess. But when you gazed upon her, all you saw was Kit. Your Kit. The girl you grew up with and simultaneously never saw, the one person who meant more to you than anyone else.

Your mother rushed to meet Airk, presenting a perfect curtsy and gushing over how handsome he’d gotten. To Kit, she offered nothing more than a brief nod and a stiff grin.

“Welcome to Azarenth, you two,” she greeted. “I trust you’ll feel right at home here.”

With that, she turned on her heel, marching back into the castle and leaving you to attend to your guests. You never really liked having your mother around; her chilly demeanor often irritating you to the point of submerging yourself into daydreams where you could run away, free from her parental confines. But now, as she walked away and you watched her figure grow smaller, you wanted nothing more than for her to return. Even if it was to make a snide comment, you would take anything to alleviate the tension that now floated between you and the twins.

Airk took a step towards you, clearing his throat and hiding his hands behind his back. “Happy birthday, Princess.”

You smiled in return, curtsying politely. The two of you stood there, silently staring at each other, the weight of what you both now knew settling between you.

“Yes, happy birthday, Princess.” Kit sneered, stomping over and offering an exaggerated curtsy.

Your smile faltered. “No need to be so formal.”

Kit scowled at you, her blue eyes, once bright oceans now beady cesspools filled with contempt. “Oh forgive me, your highness! I had no intention of offending her majesty, the future ruler of Tir Asleen!”

She scoffed, shaking her head and storming past you into the castle doors. Airk mumbled a quick apology on her behalf before following after her, leaving you outside, alone, caught in a whirlpool of heartache.

The rest of the day remained as tense as how it started. Kit had holed herself up in her designated guest room, so you were stuck with Airk. For the most part, you tried to avoid each other, save for occasionally crossing paths in the hallways and stuttering immediate apologies. When the kitchen maid rang the dinner bell, you reluctantly trudged to the dining room, dragging your feet all the way there to postpone interaction as much as possible.

Your mother eyed you critically as you were the last to take your seat at the table. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”

Pursing your lips out of disdain, you glanced over at Airk. He met your gaze, making accidental eye contact for a brief second before looking down and pretending to be transfixed by his supper. Your eyes traveled across the table to a seat left empty, Kit’s noticeable absence leaving a pang in your chest.

Sounds of silverware scratching against ceramic dishes filled the room as the four of you ate in silence. You and Airk kept your heads down, refusing to look up from your plates while your parents exchanged glances from across the table. Once finished, you pushed your plate away and requested to be excused, leaving without waiting for a response.

Grabbing your shawl off a nearby hook, you walked briskly out of the castle. The cold December air pricked against your skin as you hugged your shawl closer to you. Azarenth typically had a warmer climate with very few opportunities for cold weather, but something about this night felt especially frosty, enough for a handful of snowflakes to lazily drift down from the night sky.

You retreated to a small courtyard away from the main thoroughfares, a secluded area complete with a center fountain you often used as a refuge. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, you stared at your reflection in the water, your mirrored image looking just as tired and stressed as it had that morning. You groaned, splashing away your likeness before immediately pulling your hand back, shocked by the iciness of the water.

As you sat alone with your thoughts, the sound of footsteps approached. You turned your head to see Airk at the entrance, pausing as soon as you met his gaze. He looked sheepish, his hands hiding behind his back as he nervously shuffled his feet.

“Your father told me I might find you here,” he spoke softly, answering the question you never asked.

You didn’t respond, so he moved towards you, taking a seat beside you on the edge of the fountain. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring at your feet while you listened to the gentle roar of the water behind you.

“Your parents informed you of the arrangement, I imagine.” He said in a low voice, addressing the elephant in the room.

You sighed deeply, nodding your head in response. “I feel so betrayed.”

Airk raised his eyebrows.

“Not because you’d make a terrible spouse!” You quickly backtracked. “I just… I feel so…”

“Caught off guard?” Airk interrupted.

You nodded. His assumption was only half-true, but true nonetheless.

Airk puffed out his cheeks, taking a moment to choose his next words carefully. “Well, perhaps we could… test it out? See what it’s like?”

You eyed him with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

“Married life,” he clarified. “Perhaps we could… try some of the things married people do? Just to see how it feels?”

Your eyes widened as you leaned back in shock. “I’m not doing that!” You crossed your arms over your chest and drew inward, suddenly feeling very exposed despite being fully dressed.

“No, no! I would never ask you to do that!” Airk sputtered, vigorously shaking his head.

You sighed in relief. Airk laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to calm his nerves.

“No, certainly not. I…” he cleared his throat. “…was truly suggesting we… try a kiss? Surely, married couples kiss. Perhaps we could just see how it feels?”

You glanced at his lips and contemplated his proposal. He had a point. “Yes.”

“Are you certain?” Airk’s eyes widened in surprise.

You nodded. “Well, we’ll be expected to kiss at our wedding anyway. May be convenient to remove the element of surprise.”

Airk positioned himself to face you. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“I haven’t either,” you lied, thinking back to the innocent kisses you shared with Kit as children. Despite her spicy personality, she had always tasted so sweet. You wondered if Airk would taste just as sweet.

Before you knew it, Airk had leaned in and connected his mouth to yours. His lips were wet, soaked with spit, and his coarse stubble scratched at your chin. He didn’t taste sweet; he barely tasted like anything at all. There was no buzzing in your ears, nor bursts of warmth in your chest, just two mouths collided in a dispassionate exchange.

When Airk pulled away, you felt like crying. He stared at you expectantly. “Was that alright?”

You stared back at him, trying to suppress the nauseous feeling in your stomach. As he waited for your response, all you could think about was how different it was from kissing Kit, how you had never longed for him in the same way, and if you were arranged to marry his sister instead of him, would you be as upset?

Your mind raced with memories of Kit: stolen kisses behind trees, late night sneakaways, sharing secrets under covers. You thought back to when Kit introduced you to lewd literature, remembering how those pictures of women made you feel. Realization hit you like a punch in the gut, causing you to clutch your stomach and audibly gag.

Airk frowned. “Was it not?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I have to go.”

You stood up and practically fled from the courtyard, leaving Airk to sit alone, his face crumpled with hurt and immersed in a flood of confusion.

Frigid winds whipped your tear-stained face as you dashed through the outskirts of the castle, your footsteps echoing against the pavement. Your mind raced, a mixture of flashbacks and fear swarming this newfound epiphany. When you reached the castle entrance, you burst through the doors, darting past your parents and ignoring the questions they fired at you.

You had to find her. You needed to speak with her.

Rushing up the stairs, you ran through the corridors, past your own bedchamber, and paused in front of another. You doubled over, resting your hands on your knees in an attempt to catch your breath, heart pounding like a stampede of wild horses.

Finally somewhat calm, you stood straight, gazing not at the door, but at the nothingness that stood between you and it. With a deep breath, you disregarded all knowledge of basic etiquette and threw open the door, not bothering to knock.

“Kit!” You cried.

Startled, Kit whipped around to face the door, not expecting visitors. Upon seeing you, her face darkened. “Oh, you again. What have you come here for?”

“Kit, please, I need to talk to you…”

“Why?” Kit interrupted. “Because you need help planning your wedding? Are you here to boast about marrying my brother? How you’re going to live happily-ever-after and have hundreds of children? Would you like name suggestions?”

“You don’t understand…” you tried to swallow the lump growing in your throat. “I can’t marry Airk.”

Kit seemed taken aback by your admittance, but her demeanor quickly hardened again. “I hadn’t realized the Tanthalos blood wasn’t good enough for you.”

“That is not the reason…”

“My apologies, your highness!” Kit exclaimed, each word dripping with venom. “I shouldn’t have assumed you would want to be the future Queen of Tir Asleen! Our lowly kingdom must not meet your impossibly high standards!”

“Would you listen to me?!” You smacked her arm, unable to stop angry tears from streaming down your face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Kit flinched upon contact, but her hostility remained unyielding. Still, she crossed her arms over her chest and squinted, waiting for your explanation.

You sniffed, choking back a sob. “Airk kissed me.”

Kit’s expression barely shifted, but her eyes momentarily flickered with confusion. “Your fiancé kissed you? How distressing.”

“You don’t understand…” you drew inward as you stared at the floor, avoiding her piercing stare. “I hated it.”

You saw Kit’s arms drop to her sides out of your peripheral vision, body language softening slightly. She took a step towards you, and you squeezed your eyes tight.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to marry Airk,” you repeated, finally looking up at her. “I don’t think I want to marry any prince.”

You took a seat on the edge of her bed and wiped your tear-stricken face. Kit stood stunned for a moment before moving to your side, placing a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Do you think you might be a…?”

The word you’d both been raised to believe was dirty sat unspoken on her lips: sapphic.

You nodded, ashamed. The idea of a woman being attracted to other women was extremely frowned upon, especially for someone of nobility like yourself. But as you sank into Kit’s touch, societal expectations no longer seemed so scary. She always did make you feel safe.

“What am I going to do?” You wondered out loud, not exactly expecting an answer. Kit pulled you in closer, staring at you with unblinking eyes. You met her gaze.

“Kit, I…”

And suddenly her mouth was on yours, taking you by surprise and making you jump. She pulled back in fear, searching your face for any sign of resistance.

“I… I’m sorry…” she sputtered. “I must have misread something…”

Not wanting her to finish that sentence, you grabbed her face and kissed her ferociously, this time taking her by surprise. She gasped against your mouth, but soon returned the kiss with as much passion as you had given.

Kissing Kit was nothing like kissing Airk. Her lips weren’t wet; they were perfectly moist, and her skin was smooth against yours. That familiar grape-juice taste from when you were kids had aged gracefully along with her, now bursting with the flavors of sweet wine. Neither of you were very experienced kissers, but it wasn’t awkward like it was with Airk; there was no clumsy collision, just two mouths exploring each other in an act of tender intimacy.

Kit picked up her movements, kissing you hungrily with a passion that almost bordered on desperation. She grabbed at your waist, pushing you down on the bed until she hovered over you. You moaned at the unexpected feeling of your head against the soft mattress, and that was all the reassurance Kit needed to keep going. She placed a hand on your stomach and started to untie the laces of your corset, moving at a snail's pace in case you were to oppose. When you didn't, she removed the restrictive garment and inched her fingers up your blouse. You gasped at the feeling of her skin against yours, but when she pulled away to check in, you immediately brought her back to you, not wanting her to stop for anything.

You writhed underneath her as she explored the skin underneath your blouse. Longing coursed through your veins, each brush of her fingertips feeling like the warmth of a thousand suns. When she grazed her thumb across a particularly sensitive area, you moaned into her mouth, lifting your hips and pressing your core into her body. She shivered under the newfound contact, pulling away and looking down at you with apprehension.

“I’ve never really done anything like this before,” she admitted.

“P-pardon?” You sputtered through labored breaths, your body craving her in a way it had never craved anyone before.

“This…” she gestured at both of your bodies. “…is all new to me.”

“Likewise,” you whispered before leaning in to reassure her with a gentle kiss. “We don’t have to do anything more than this tonight. I promise I’m enjoying myself.”

Kit seemed to relax. “Would that be alright?”

“Truly,” you replied, because it was. It was more than alright. It was perfect.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @love4lyn @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sophi4v13

What would Sadie Adler be like being the fem!eader's girlfriend? I love she🩵

sadie as your girlfriend hcs ✿⋆.˚⊹

‧₊˚౨ৎ before the two of you started dating she was unexplainably protective over you. she was already very protective of the gang, leaping into action whenever there was danger. but she always seemed to have her eyes trained on you, watching like a hawk for if you were in any sort of trouble

‧₊˚౨ৎ this only intensifies when she finally gets to call you hers. you were always the first person she’d check on both in and after any danger. she’d rush to your side to protect you and make sure you weren’t too shaken up afterwards. her arm would constantly be wrapped protectively (and possessively) around your waist. when sadie was around you didn’t have to worry about taking shit from anybody, they’d have to go through her first

‧₊˚౨ৎ “you redirect that attitude to me, ‘cause if i hear another word leave that filthy mouth o’ yours, i’ll kill ya.”

‧₊˚౨ৎ she’s very generous with her death threats but to anyone who knows her or has any common sense, they know she’s not joking

‧₊˚౨ৎ despite her harsh exterior and brutal nature, she’s actually a big softie. she’s a fan of mushy pet names, calling you “sweetheart”, “angel”, “pretty girl”, you name it. and she’s not worried about calling you these in front of people. most think she’d shy away from it as she has a reputation for being a bit hot-headed and intimidating. but she holds her own well enough for there to be no doubt about whether she’s truly a threat or not, just for her to then turn around and dote on you like nothing happened

‧₊˚౨ৎ she is very possessive and loves calling you hers. what’s hers is hers and that will be known, every affectionate name having “my” in front of it

‧₊˚౨ৎ loves doing things for you, always talking about how she isn’t a fan of sitting around and not doing much. if she sees miss grimshaw is wearing you rather thin she won’t hesitate to come and take some tasks off of your hands, even though she prefers the more hands on dirty work the gang gets up to. but if it was for you, she’d do just about anything

‧₊˚౨ৎ if you aren’t already able to she’d teach you how to defend yourself, always worrying over what might happen if she’s not around to protect you. the idea of that makes her feel helpless, which she hates, so it brings her some comfort to make sure you’re capable of taking care of yourself if needed

‧₊˚౨ৎ she loves to fluster you. she is absolutely not shy when teaching you how to shoot, pressing herself up against you as she readjusts your posture and gives you directions in that raspy voice of hers. you swear she wants you to start messing up when she whispers a proud, “atta girl,” after a particularly good shot. “my pretty girl’s doin’ so good.”

‧₊˚౨ৎ you are the only person she’ll play the harmonica for. she was very reserved about it at first, nobody but her late husband getting to hear her play. but when she feels herself becoming more at ease with you she’ll occasionally let you stick around while she plays. you of course respect her and her privacy but on days where she can’t bring herself to dismiss your company, she lets you stay

“alright, you can stay, darlin’. but ya can’t laugh if i mess up, okay?” 

‧₊˚౨ৎ she is actually very upfront about her feelings. she’s quite openly vulnerable, though she wishes she wasn’t. she’s a tough cookie to break but sees the importance of being honest with you (she’s so applejack coded aaaa) and doesn’t like leaving tension in the air if you’re upset with each other or one of you is going through a hard time

‧₊˚౨ৎ will absolutely spoil you with her bounty hunting money. what better way to spend her time after chasing down crooks than giving you whatever you wanted? it also wouldn’t hurt to give you any shiny trinkets she took from the pockets of her newest catches, they wouldn’t be needing them anyway once they were behind bars

‧₊˚౨ৎ literally the best girlfriend ever, i firmly believe she devotes her every breath to doing right by you <3

a/n: i love sadie sm i wanna write for her more !! i hope you enjoyed :D xoxo

ghhhh love her so bad

chloe with a sleepy!gf<3

pairing: chloe price x fem reader

mdni, fluff, slight nsfw, chloe’s a sweetie<3

☁️ you’re both sleepy gfs.

☁️ chloe is always down for a nap. this girl loves her sleep especially after a smoke sesh. and after she’s fucked you silly

☁️ both of you call each other and ask if you can come over and sleep.

☁️ CUDDLES CUDDLES CUDDLES

☁️ she’s both terrible and amazing to sleep with. Will roll over you and smother you, trapping you in her arms like a teddy bear. You’ll never be cold with her.

☁️ will always complain about how you stole all the blankets.

☁️ usually always the big spoon. likes having you close to her at all times, it makes her feel comforted and safe. your scent and the way your body feels against hers.

☁️ the type of girl to drape her leg over your hip.

☁️ invites you over to nap with her.

☁️ likes to feel wanted when you’re cuddling her especially if you’re suffuciantly shorter than her

☁️ loves when you fall asleep in her arms.

☁️ doesn’t mind at all when you fall asleep on her. likes to feel wanted. chloe loves when you fall asleep in her arms, when you two are watching tv, or she’s rolling up or driving, your face pressed against her shoulder and your body against hers, makes her all the more protective of you, seeing you in that vulnerable state.

☁️ never ever gets mad when you don’t reply to her messages or calls, since.. well she’s definitely not replying to yours either for the same reason. Both of you sleep through each others calls or texts.

☁️ will take pictures or selfies of you two while you’re napping.

☁️ both of you love your sleep ins, you’ll never have to worry about her waking you up when you don’t have work/school since she will pull you in and want snuggles until she decides you can get up.

☁️ getting up to pee with her is a pain in the ass, since her clingy ass always has to have you in arms reach.

☁️ If you wear a bonnet to sleep she loves pressing her face up against the back of your head against the silk fabric, a lot of times she drools on it in her sleep, gross.

☁️ will also plant little kisses on your exposed neck and shoulders, she has a thing for necks and seeing your neck and or shoulders exposed like that, no hair in the way for kisses or bites.

☁️ loves to rest her hand on your titties, its comforting according to her.

☁️ acts of service from her include rubbing your back softly or playing with your hair as you’re falling asleep.

☁️ both hers and your sheets and blankets are always messed up, especially with the way chloe tosses and turns in the night.

☁️ you two always get breakfast no matter how late yall wake up.

☁️ “we’re sleeping in right?” “yup”

☁️ always teases you if she wakes up first and sees your top is twisted round or if your mouth was open during your sleep.

☁️ sleeping next to you helps ease her nightmares.

☁️ overall her favourite activity is cuddling and napping with you.

omg???

blah blah gay butterfly (they make me sob and wail)

click for more detail :)