imagine.crushes

She threw her head back. “You’re not serious.”

You shrugged your shoulders, then downed your drink and motioned for another one.

“Listen,” you said, your mind all fuzzy. “Do I want Logan? Yes. Do I dream about us living happily ever after? Yes. Do I have very detailed fantasies about him breaking my bed? Also yes. But we don’t—”

“I’d just like to remind you that while you don’t have enough money to buy a new bed,” she interfered. “I will buy you a new one if you break it while the hot lumberjack is fucking your brains out.”

“Thank you, you’re a true friend,” you said solemnly as the waitress brought you your cocktail and you thanked her, then turned to Julie. “Jamie wants him to be terrible in bed so that I’ll snap out of this.”

“Doubt it,” she said. “The guy has been around since the mid-1800s, I’d assume he has some experience.”

You tilted your head, then gasped.

“Oh my God!” you said, reaching out to grab her arm over the table, almost knocking over her glass but she caught it before her drink could spill on the table. “What if Jamie is right?”

“I literally just said—”

“No, he was alive in mid-1800s!” you said, making her frown.

“Yeah?”

“What if he is like Edward Cullen and waiting for marriage?”

“That man is a whore!” Julie snapped, flailing her hands. “I’ve heard the way he speaks to you, he’s a slut—there’s no fucking way. He’ll break your bed any day now.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh. “To repeat, he hasn’t made a move.”

“To repeat, I think maiming three guys for you counts as making a move.”

You sucked on the straw of your cocktail, the happy warmth of alcohol buzzing in your head.

“So you think he likes me back?”

“I’m pretty sure he likes you back.”

 You grabbed some popcorn from the bowl on the table.

“Yeah well,” you said. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

You pulled your brows together. “I can’t do that Julie!”

“Why not?” she asked. “Is it the 1800s? Will people call you a harlot in the town square?”

“No!” you said. “No it’s just…”

“When was the last time you got laid?”

“That has nothing to with the situation,” you said and took a huge sip of your cocktail, making her grin.

“Remind me, when was it?”

“It’s been some time.”

“So why aren’t you climbing Logan like a tree?”

“I’m trying!” you whined and she motioned at you.

“Drink your cocktail. The whole thing.”

You nodded and downed your drink, your insides getting even warmer as you put your glass on the table. Julie grinned, and pushed your phone in your direction.

“Now call him.”

“Julie!”

“Just ask him out!” she said. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“He could hang up on me.”

“He’s not gonna hang up on you,” she said. “Listen, that guy has been picking you up from work, calling you princess, saving you from creeps and sniffing your hair...”

“We’re not so sure about the last part.”

“Yes we are,” she said, pointing a finger at you. “Call him. You’ll be too much of a chicken to ask him out when you’re sober, so do it when you’re drunk.”

You let out a whine, then took the phone into your hands, heaving a sigh.

“What if I’m not his type?”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Somebody really needs to fuck you in front of a mirror.”

You scrunched up your face. “Oh I could never do that.”

“You should, it’s fun,” she said and nodded at the phone in your hand. “Call him.”

“But—”

“Do you want to fuck him, yes or no?”

“I want us to live happily ever after!” you said and paused for a second. “And yeah I want to fuck him. A lot. Day and night, multiple positions.”

“Call him.”

You took a deep breath, then nodded to yourself.

“I’ll be back,” you said and stood up from the chair, stumbling as the room spun around you but you grabbed the back of the chair and sat down again. “Shit, I’m too drunk.”

“It’s not that loud here,” she said. “You don’t have to go outside.”

“Okay,” you said and found Logan’s name, then touched it and took the phone to your ear, your heart pacing in your chest. You drummed your fingernails on the table, frowning to yourself, then lowered the phone.

“He’s not answering,” you said and ended the call, then turned to Julie. “Maybe he’s busy or something?”

“Yeah, didn’t you say they went on missions?”

“That’s what I heard,” you said and heaved a sigh. “Oh well. It was worth a shot.”

Julie shrugged her shoulders.

“Yeah,” she said and thought for a moment. “We should get shots.”

You gasped, and clapped your hands together.

“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah let’s get shots!”

                                                   *

Since Julie’s place was closer, you had split the taxi fee and dropped her off first before the taxi took you to your place. As it turned out, the shots were a bad idea because you had to rush to the bathroom to throw up as soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, but after you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you were still not sleepy.

On the contrary, you were pretty energetic.

…And hungry.

Starving, actually.

You hummed to yourself as you opened the fridge, then tilted your head. Nothing in your fridge looked good enough, so you grabbed your phone to order, but then scoffed when you saw the delivery fee.

“Absolutely not,” you murmured and grabbed your jacket to put it on, then grabbed your keys before walking out of the apartment. The buzz of the alcohol was still in your system despite you throwing up, so you hopped down the stairs and stepped out of the apartment.

Walking did help the nausea and your head spinning, and you were just passing by a shop when the fish tank caught your eye, making you stop in your steps.

Fish.

Interesting.

You stared at the shop window, nearly hypnotized by the lively colors and the fish swimming in the huge fish tank behind the glass but snapped out of it when your phone started vibrating in your pocket.

Logan.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered to yourself as you stared at the name flashing on the screen, your breath hitching. “Oh fuck, oh fuck…”

You took a deep breath, and touched the screen, then took the phone to your ears, your heart pacing in your chest.

“Hey!” you said, your voice going a pitch higher. “Um, what’s up?”

“Hi princess,” he said, his deep voice making you bite at your lip. “Didn’t hear you call, sorry about that.”

“No problem,” you said with a giggle. “Jesus, fish are pretty. Did you know they were pretty? I didn’t really pay attention to them but—oh my God. I’m so buying Theo fish.”

“What?”

“No seriously, he wanted it, and these things are tiny and it’s not that hard to take care of fish, is it? I mean it can’t be harder than taking care of orchids, Nik bought some for me and those things are goddamn suicidal, I tell you.”

“…Are you drunk?”

“Tipsy,” you corrected him as you fished your gloss out of your purse to apply it, staring at the window. “Tipsy-ish? This store is open right? Yeah, I see someone inside—”

“Hold on, you’re drunk and outside?” he asked. “Alone?”

“Yeah but it’s fine,” you said. “I stepped outside for some fresh air and I’m gonna get food but I got distracted by this aquarium—I’ll buy two fish and then put one of those fake trees and stuff into the tank—”

“Stay put, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t even know where I am though?” you said, looking around the street. “I’m close to my apartment but like I said, I need to eat something and Theo needs fish—”

“I’ll follow your scent, stay put,” he said and hung up, making you hum, and then put the phone into your pocket and entered the shop to smile at the owner.

“Good evening sir,” you said. “I need one orange and one white fish please. My son will name them Cheeto and Popcorn.”

                                               *

Logan found you as you were leaving the fast food place, holding the paper bag full of French fries tight with the small fish tank tucked in your other arm. You put the paper bag on the lid on the tank as the roar of the motorcycle made you lift your head and you looked over your shoulder.

Jesus Christ, he was too hot.

You could swear there were flying hearts circling your head as he got off the motorcycle and made his way to you, his herculean figure making you sigh before you looked up at his handsome face, your heartbeat getting faster.

“Hi sweetheart.”

You blinked up at him, still hugging the tank to your chest. “Hi. You’re very handsome.”

That made the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile before he tilted his head.

“How much did you drink, again?”

“Um…” you bit inside your cheek, looking up at the dark sky to calculate in your head. “Six cocktails and a couple of shots. The shots were Julie’s idea though.”

“Right.”

“Hold this,” you said, pushing the tank into his arms before grabbing the paper bag to open it. “Ugh, I’m starving! Are you hungry?”

“Nope,” he said, still smiling. “Go ahead.”

You hummed a song to yourself as you dug into the fries, and cleared your throat, trying to focus.

“You didn’t have to drive all the way here,” you said. “My place isn’t far.”

“Mm hm, and you’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you corrected him as you chewed on the fries with him walking beside you. “I swear to God, potatoes are the best vegetable to grace this earth—what were you doing when I called? Am I keeping you from something?”

“Nope,” he said. “I was walking around the halls to make sure everything was alright, I didn’t take my phone with me. How about you? Fun night?”

“So much fun!” you said as you popped a couple of fries into your mouth. “Julie is seeing this guy—well, they slept together, and apparently he’s still living with his ex and it’s like a huge red flag for her, but seriously the rents are insane nowadays so I don’t—Logan, what are your thoughts on premarital sex?”

That made his head whip around and he stared at you while you calmly chewed on the fries, waiting for his answer.

“…Huge fan of it?” he said after a beat and you nodded your head.

“Same here,” you said as you started walking again. “Did you—um, so do you count as Victorian or Georgian? I always mix those two up for some reason.”

He pulled his brows together. “What?”

“I watch a lot of period movies, I think yearning is the most romantic thing in the entire world, that hand scene in Pride and Prejudice changed me as a person,” you said as you reached into the paper bag to pull out more fries. “Um, I have a lot of questions for you and I know you’re this cool and mysterious guy so you can just say yes or no.”

He stifled a laugh. “Sure thing, hit me.”

“Did anyone give you their handkerchief?”

“No.”

You gasped. “No one gave you their handkerchief? What a bunch of assholes!”

“I had other priorities in mind during those times, sweetheart.”

“Yearning is a priority, Logan,” you said wistfully. “Next question, were you ever accidentally engaged?”

“How does one get accidentally engaged?”

“People see you talking to each other without a chaperone.”

“What?” he asked with a grimace. “I don’t—no.”

“No wonder why you like modern times better, now that I think about it,” you murmured as you looked into the bag, then heaved a sigh when you saw only a couple of fries in it. You grabbed them and threw them into your mouth, then scrunched up the paper bag to throw it into the nearest trash can. “Do you like Cheeto and Popcorn?”

Logan pulled his brows together. “Come again?”

“The fish!” you pointed at the small fish tank he was holding in one hand and he looked down at it, then chuckled.

“Right,” he said. “They look nice, sweetheart.”

“Right? Theo will be very happy, and—is there any rules against pets at the school? Because he will want to take them there.”

“We can bend the rules a little for him, it’s fine,” he said, making you smile at him brightly.

“Aw thank you!” you said as you licked your lips, then looked around before turning to Logan. “Logan?”

His eyes held a soft light in them. “Hm?”

“Can I see your claws?”

He frowned slightly but unsheathed his claws. “Why? I don’t see any threats, do you—”

He was cut off when you held onto his arm to lift his hand a little to see the blur reflection of your face on the metal, then dabbed at your lip gloss that had smudged a little with the tip of your finger. You could feel Logan staring at you so you lifted your gaze for a moment.

“What?”

“…You—you know I’ve hurt a lot of people with them, right?”

“And now you’re helping me fix my makeup with them,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Things can be of multiuse.”

He didn’t comment on it as you rubbed your lips together, then dropped his hand to beam at him. “Thanks!”

“No problem,” he managed to say with a small chuckle. “You are something else, you know that?”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” you said happily but before you could thank him again, you noticed two guys staring at him, no doubt because of the claws. You could feel the sudden rush of anger sparking to life as you narrowed your eyes at them.

“What?” you snapped, making them snap out of the haze, exchanging glances. Logan raised his brows, his lips twitching as if he was amused. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” one of them said. “Just claws—”

“Yeah, so?” you asked him as you took a step towards him but Logan put his hand over the back of your neck, gently pulling you back, looking like he was trying his hardest to keep a straight face and not burst into laughter as the guy stepped back. “What, do you wanna fight or something?”

“…No?”

“Then fucking act like it, how about that?”

“Your girl is aggressive, bro.”

“That she is,” Logan said, rubbing his thumb over the back of your neck. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“It’s rude to stare, okay?” you told them over your shoulder as you started walking beside Logan. “No seriously like, didn’t your mom teach you anything? Call her, let’s see what she’ll say about you staring at strangers!”

Logan pursed his lips together to control the chuckle vibrating in his chest before he cleared his throat.

“Unbelievable,” you grumbled. “No seriously, even Theo knows not to stare at people and he still believes in Santa! That’s no excuse, what the fuck was that? You should’ve let me kick his ass!”

“I think you scared them off enough.”

“Good!”

“Do you always look for fights when you’re drunk?”

“I’m tipsy and I have zero tolerance for disrespect, Logan,” you pointed out. “I mean honestly, who raised these boys?”

Logan bit back a smile, then nodded in the direction of your building.

“Come on,” he said and you pulled out your keys, but then dropped them with a gasp. Logan picked them up, then opened the building’s door for you.

“It’s kind of like a handkerchief situation when you think about it,” you said happily as you climbed the stairs. If you weren’t so drunk, you would’ve noticed earlier that he was in fact in your building but it only dawned on you when you stopped in front of your apartment, then held your breath.

“Logan?” you asked, your heart beating faster at the possibility. “Would you like to come in?”

“I’ll just make sure you actually go to bed and not wander off to the street completely drunk,” he told you and you pouted your lips as he opened your door for you.

Stepping into your apartment, you yawned and looked over your shoulder as he closed the door behind him, then held up the fish tank.

“Where do you want to put it?”

“The kitchen is fine,” you said, pointing at the kitchen and he made his way to the kitchen while you swayed on your steps, making your way to your bedroom to fling yourself on the bed, kicking off your shoes. You heard the sound of water running before the footsteps came closer and you sat up in the bed, tucking your legs under you. Logan entered your bedroom, his hazel gaze focusing on you for a moment before he shook his head slightly and handed you the huge glass of water.

“Drink it.”

“Oh I’m not thirsty.”

“Drink it,” he repeated and you heaved a sigh, then took a sip of it before lowering the glass to your lap.

“I’m pretty sure those cocktails will knock you out but off the chance that you wake up still drunk, I need you to promise me—” Logan started but a tiny lint on the skirt of your dress caught your attention, making you distracted. You pulled at it with a frown but felt Logan tilt your chin up so that you could look up at him.

“Eyes on me princess, look at me.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through you as your eyes met his, pleasant goosebumps rising on your arms as you blinked up at him in adoration.

“Your voice is very deep,” you murmured and he smiled slightly.

“Did you hear a word I said?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head.

“Don’t wander off to the street if you wake up in the middle of the night,” he said. “I need to get back to the institute but—”

“Or you could stay?” you asked, your voice soft in the quiet, dimly lit room and a shadow moved behind his hazel gaze, making your heart skip a beat. You knew he knew what you meant, and hope filled your system, making you feel nearly lightheaded at the possibility of him feeling half of the fire running through your veins.

You could swear there was some sort of invisible lighting crackling between you, making your breath catch in your throat as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, making your eyes flutter close for a second before you looked up at him again.

“Logan…”

“That is not happening when you’re drunk, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and you pouted your brows together.

“It could.”

“It won’t.”

 You bit inside your cheek, blinking up at him and he frowned as if trying to pull himself together. His knuckles brushed over your cheekbone softly before he withdrew his hand, then leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head, making you heave a sigh.

“Call me when you wake up tomorrow,” he said before he pulled back, then walked out of the room.

Jake actually doesn't like quickies. They're never satisfying and they're always over too fast.

Cuddlefucking drives him batshit crazy. There's something about how time seems to slow down with the lazy touches, sleep-warm skin, the kisses that feel more like a dream than a reality.

He's actually very worried about hurting you. He's heard some terrible stories from guys in the military who clearly don't like their girlfriends, and he would never dream of treating you like that.

So if you want something more intense, Jake will require an in-depth conversation with clear guidelines and a lot of reassurance that this is what you want.

For that reason, Jake is very uncomfortable with hate sex. It doesn't make any sense to him. He doesn't hate you and he doesn't want to bring that vibe into your relationship.

Jake really looks forward to aftercare. He takes note of everything you liked for future reference.

He loves to absolutely worship your body. Massaging that kink out of your shoulder. Stroking the washcloth over your chest and back in the shower. Propping your leg in his lap as he rubs lotion into your skin.

Jake doesn't care how much shit people give him for saying it but he LOVES missionary. He wants to look you in the eyes. He wants to guide your leg around his hips. It's a classic for a reason.

One time, the two of you decided to get adventurous and try a new position. It was complicated as hell and you fumbled around so much that you ended up collapsed together, Jake's face beet red from laughing so hard.

You didn't actually have sex that night. But you fell asleep in each other's arms without a stitch of clothing between you, and then you had leftover pizza for breakfast, which felt just as good.

Jake is a MONSTER when it comes to non-sexual intimacy. He soaks up every drop like a dying man in the desert.

Sitting on the couch watching tv? He's going to tuck his head into your lap and coax your fingers into his hair.

Brushing your teeth? He'll slide his arms around you from behind and nuzzle into your neck.

Out to dinner with his buddies? He has a hand resting on your thigh.

When you're walking side by side, if you don't hold his hand, Jake will take your hand and tuck it into the crook of his elbow. Every single time. And he gives you this look like, this is your spot, don't you know that by now???

When it's cold, he wraps his hand around yours and tucks it into his coat pocket to keep you both warm.