#//and if nothing else. he deserves to know that jack is never going to leave him

[gas-stxtion-a]

//[insert clever and witty caption here]

anyway it's the mental illness renaissance @modestmuses and i'm about to be obnoxious again <3

[selfcarecap]

MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them. 

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. 

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. 

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it. 

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it? 

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead? 

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. 

He could give it to you. 

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside. 

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. 

Sappy motherfucker. 

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep. 

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse. 

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks. 

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you. 

He wakes up with morning wood. 

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. 

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. 

It’s soo stupid. 

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps. 

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you. 

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again. 

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself. 

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist? 

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him. 

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

-

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw. 

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone. 

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw? 

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it. 

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it. 

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.” 

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. 

“Did you draw it?” He asks. 

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

“Secret admirer?” 

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.” 

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended. 

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. 

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” 

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” 

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all. 

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

-

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven. 

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect. 

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?). 

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time. 

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him? 

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

-

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know. 

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight. 

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid. 

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say. 

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that). 

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile. 

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh. 

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him. 

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone. 

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears. 

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is. 

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him. 

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his. 

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long. 

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better. 

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access. 

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide. 

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged. 

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead. 

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath. 

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself. 

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. 

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still. 

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head. 

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while. 

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is. 

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

[timmydraker]

CW: extremely dubious consent, assault and p3d0phillia (not romanticised), self-victimisation blaming, sui attempt. Be safe, be kind.

Tim’s parents mainly had a child for the financial gain as well as popularity.

As soon as Tim was born he was a beautiful and cute little thing that made all conversations at Galas and even and meetings start and flow with ease. People always complimented the bright young boy who could speak as well as a three year old after just turning two and had the cutest little walk in his tiny suit.

When he gets older, Tim understands this and knows that his role is to get deals and funding for his parents.

It’s never out right said, but they always treat him kinda and praise him when he scores them a deal of any kind.

So, he masters it. He learns what people prefer the sweet, endearing little boy and who prefers to see an upcoming business man. He figured out when to talk to a wife over a husband, when to not bother trying or when to be upfront with what he wants so he can get it.

It’s when he’s almost ten, wearing a new suit from a new designer his mother had started to prefer, that one of the older men give him a compliment that just sits wrong to Tim.

It takes him a while to figure it out, and when he does research on it and ends up finding a wiki article on how to tell if someone is attracted to you, he assumes that it’s completely normal. He guess the man thought he was cute like everyone else, but then he reads more.

It’s, quite unsurprisingly, a Reddit post about seduction that tips him off to what the man really wanted from him.

Tim, ever the researcher that he is at heart, properly learns everything he can about sex and seduction and tells himself it’s completely fine for him to do this both because it’s for the family business and he won’t actually have sex. He’s a kid, so they won’t really want him, right?

Of course this is the nativity of the child that he is talking and his still solid trust in humanity keeping him from seeing people for what they really are.

Tim meets Dr Hinders at the next Gala, the man who looked at him like a piece of candy, and gives him a charming little smile and casually touches his forearm like the articles suggested. He plays it off as nothing special outwardly, though he makes sure to leave his eyes lingering on the man’s mouth.

He doesn’t remember much of what actually happened, only entering a car and feeling warm caresses turn harsh and painful.

Tim lays in the man’s bed that night and finds that he hates himself more than the man who used him even as Tim started to push back. He blames himself for not being smarter, for not realising that if he could look at Tim that way, he could do far worse.

But then the man says to Tim, “I think I will endorse your parents, Timothy. You are… quite convincing.”

Tim hears the man’s sickening laugh and hates how success stirs in his gut. Dr Hinders in the lead researching of a project his father had been practically begging to be apart of and now he will.

Jack will be so happy with Tim.

As he is dropped off at home, he runs a icey bath and sobs to himself as he enters. His ass burns as much as his shame, his shoulders ach from where his arms were forced back, yet somehow worst of all is his hip. The hand shaped bruise is giant compared to his own, a brand of sorts to remind him that he handed himself over like a whore.

Yet Tim respects whores, because they need to do it to survive more often than not.

The next day his father picks him up and actually hugs him. Its the first time since he was three that it’s happened and Tim can’t even be in pain from the contact to his aches as he hears his father rant about how proud he is of his son, how he did so well and deserves to go out shopping for a camera.

Tim frowns at the mention of Dr Hinders asking if he could continue to have chats with Tim every now and again yet says yes just to make his father proud.

Janet stared at him all the while with a knowing look, one that screams years of painful experience and burden that she seems to recognise in him.

He pointedly ignores it and goes upstairs.

If Tim this is the result, his father’s love, Tim is going to have to keep doing this.

He just… needs to find a way where it won’t be as painful.

By the time Tim becomes Robin, he’s well known in the elite Gotham circle as ‘bunny’. Find him at an event and play your card right and he’ll come home with you and give you a night you’ll never forget, all you have to do is promise to send some money to his parents or pay for a trip for them.

Most of them pay for trips when they realise that Tim can stay for while nights if they’re away.

He’s eleven when he first goes to a man’s house, already crying silently as he prepped himself, and there’s three others waiting.

He doesn’t even try to back out and upon returning home the next day finds himself holding his head under the iced water a little longer than safe.

Tim doesn’t go through with it and instead goes bat watching.

He tells himself that he’s the one consenting, that it’s okay because he’s doing the seducing, and shoves down the voice that tells him that no amount of temptation should allow anyone older than him to give in to violating a child. He lies to himself about how he prefers it when they are rough and cruel so he can feel better shouting hating them, because the kind touches and longing looks he gets from the ones who let him take the lead make him feel like he is in control, like it could actually be okay, and he knows that it’s not.

It took him a while and soon it will be too late, he’ll be eighteen soon, but he does know that it’s fucked up.

He just ignores that because it makes his dad happy, even after he goes into a coma and remarries.

Somehow he managed to keep it hidden from Bruce for almost five years, but as usual, he finds out.

Tim doesn’t tell him, no he’d never be able to do that.

It’s none other than Dr Hinders.

Bruce host a Gala at the end of summer and winter every year, which is both she he stays relevant and so he doesn’t have to do multiple and not have as much time for Batman.

It’s at one of these Galas that he’s talking with a few men and Dr Hinders says, “You’re a lucky man Bruce, to have Tim with you all the time.”

Bruce smiles proudly as the other two men give each other looks, both knowing full well that Bruce Wayne doesn’t like their kind and probably doesn’t know what Hinders is referring to.

“I am indeed. He’s a smart lad, my Tim. Single handedly raised my company from the ground after my ah, relaxed nature.”

The two men laugh heartily and one manages to make an excuse, abandoning his friend who’s about to shit tears as Hinders leans forward and says, “I’d kill to have him all the time. You know I was his first?”

Bruce is a master of poker faces, he has to be with all the masks he owns in both a literal and metaphorical sense. But his expression still falters for a moment, eyes narrowing as a sick feeling build in his gut.

“What ever do you mean?”

The man besides them stares at the ground in pure fear, knowing that Bruce is one of the most powerful men and he’s been included in the many who took from his financial heir.

Hinders grins a sadistic thing and gives Bruce a look to say ‘oh come on’, “Now, Bruce. Someone had to break him in, teach him the ropes. How else would Jack and Janet get any funding if not for whoring out their son?”

Bruce feels the glass in his hand strain from his tight grip.

“I mean, he definitely had a lot of practice by the time I got to him a second time, but an ass like that comes naturally. Hey, was it you who bought him that red lace? Me and the boys at work still have a photo of him in it up in the lunch room-“

Dr Hinders isn’t ready for the punch Bruce lands on his face, square on his nose with a loud crunch.

A few people turn around and soon everyone is, only to be met with an image of Bruce Wayne that or a cult shows the rage boiling off of him and raining the air with a dangerous aura.

The way he growls is enough to shake the room, somehow worse than Batman’s voice, “everybody get the fuck out of my house.”

Some people get their things calmly and leave, but most hurry like the buildings on fire.

Dick and Damian, the only ones attending that night other than Tim, rush up to him and ask what happened but Bruce is too busy staring at his son across the room.

Tim is frozen, hands cupped to his chest and Bruce knows he heard everything just by the tears in his eyes and how he immediately starts repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over and over.

Bruce approaches him quickly but waits for Tim to move into his arms. He wraps his boy up and squeezes him tight, “it’s okay, my sweet. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. This isn’t your fault. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.”

Dick is getting frustrated now, wanting to know what happened to his baby brother, yet when he hears Tim’s response his heart is too busy shattering apart.

“It is! I go to them, I let them fuck me so dad can get his deals! It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have done it in the first place but even then I kept going all for a dad who doesn’t love me. I hate it, I hate it so much but it’s what I’m good for!”

Bruce lets out a sob and moves to look at Tim, “No. No, don’t you dare say that. You are so much more, worth so much more than your body. You are my son, you are Red Robin, you are a brother and a grandson and you are so fucking special. I’m so sorry Tim, I’m sorry you feel that way but it’s okay, I’ll help you. Those men will never touch you again, I swear it.”

Tim breaks down and collapses into his father’s arms, sobbing and wailing years of abuse out.

Dick sobs too but manages to get through it enough to remove Damian from the situation even as the young boys eyes are filled with rage and concern for his brother.

It takes a while, mainly for Tim to chose that he will take the pity and blame from the masses if it means the men who hurt him will pay.

He gives a list to Bruce and cries when he sees that Alfred himself is crying.

If some of the men on that list end up dead in prison and Jason seems a proud of himself, that’s no one’s worry.

Damian refuses to leave Tim’s side for a long time, going with him every where when out in public and not giving up his sword even when the mall security insist he has to.

The photo’s taken of Tim, most of which he wasn’t aware of, only manage to circulate for a few hours before Oracle manages to systematically remove each and every single one with the help of a few hackers and Cyborg.

Duke may also leak to a few of his friends that some of the men are trying to bail out of prison and shouldn’t be welcome in Gotham, and if one of those friends is Cass with a wood plank with nails in it, Kate defiantly didn’t see and help her make it.

[no-144444]

wallflowers like flowers too- o.piastri

Day 25 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: you never thought you'd find love, especially not with your best friend at his sister's wedding.

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You sighed as you looked down at your dress, another bridesmaid dress, another wedding, another day you didn’t want to deal with. You loved your friends, truly, and you were so happy for Hattie, she really loved Peter, and she definitely deserved the perfect wedding. You just couldn’t help but feel your heart ache when you remembered that you hadn’t been in a relationship for over 2 years. The last one had ended badly too, the guy cheating on you with your own sister. It had hit you pretty hard and you basically just took a step back from dating. That ‘step back’ turned into chronic single-ness, and now you were the only bridesmaid without a date. 

“You look gorgeous,” Nicole smiled. You’d grown up with the Piastri’s, well, they’d all grown up, you’d stayed the same, at least in your eyes. 

“Thanks Nic,” you smiled, trying desperately to not run and hide. 

“I can’t wait until when I see you walking down the aisle,” she beamed. 

You scoffed. “Like that’ll happen,” you joked, self-deprecatingly sighing. 

“Don’t say that!” She scolded. “I have to see you walking down the aisle!”

There was a knock at the door that cut you off before you could say something else bad about yourself, and Oscar’s head popped out from behind the door. 

“Hi,” he smiled at his mum. “Hattie needs to pee.”

“Oh! Y/n, come on,” Nicole grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door. Hattie had a huge dress and definitely needed help holding it up. 

Oscar stood starstruck as you two passed him by. He hadn’t seen you in years, and you were gorgeous. He’d always had a crush on you, but now? There was nothing holding him back, well, apart from his own shyness and awkward tendencies. And his hatred of small talk. 

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Lando watched as Oscar’s eyes stayed focused on you, walking down the aisle hand-in-hand with one of the groomsmen. You looked radiant. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and Lando smirked. 

“So who’s that?” he whispered.

“Y/n,” Oscar whispered, his eyes not leaving you. 

“She’s pretty.”

“She’s gorgeous,” Oscar corrected. 

“Can you introduce me?” Lando smirked, Oscar’s head whipped around to him with a death glare. 

“You’re not her type.”

“And how would you know that?” He smirked. 

“I just do, she was my best friend for a decade. I know her type,” he rushed out. 

“And her type wouldn’t be a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy called Oscar Jack Piastri, by any chance?” He smiled cheekily. 

“No,” he shook his head, blush creeping up his cheeks. 

“You’re blushing!” He whisper-shouted, gaining him a harsh shush from the woman in front of him. “You’re blushing.”

“You’re being disruptive,” Oscar whispered, trying desperately to shut him up. “My sister is getting married, shut up.” 

Lando finally gave in, shutting up as the ceremony commenced. Oscar watched as his little sister walked down the aisle, a beaming smile on her face and he had never been happier for her. He watched you as your eyes watered, elated that Hattie had found the one. He smiled at you, waving, when you finally noticed him in the pews. You smiled back, a slight nod of the head to signify that you saw him. 

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“This is pathetic,” Lando slurred, slightly tipsy. He was practically hanging off of Oscar as he tried to stop him from drinking too much more. “Go after her!” 

“Keep your voice down!” Oscar scolded, sounding too much like his own mother for his liking. “She’s less than 10 feet away.”

“She’s gorgeous, she’s your best friend, she’s cool, she’s everything, you love her, go for her!” 

“Go for who?” You questioned, laughing at Lando’s drunken state. 

“Oscars’ in love with someone,” he giggled. 

You fake gasped. “Well you’ll have to tell me who?!”

“Not allowed,” he shook his head, still giggling. 

“I’m so sorry,” Oscar started but you shook your head. 

“This is entertainment, I would’ve been subjected to yet another dance with one of Aunt Darcy’s weird touchy friends,” you chuckled. “This is fun.”

He nodded (and made a mental note to seek those boys out), letting Lando continue. 

“One clue!” He blurted out. “She’s really pretty. Like Oscar loves how pretty she is, but also how smart she is!” He covered his mouth with his hand, as if you were trying to pry the information out of him. “No more clues!”

Definitely a little bit more than tipsy. 

“But Lando, you said you’d tell me if she’s here or not,” you fake pouted, lying through your teeth. 

“Did I?” He questioned, asking himself the question more than anything. “Well,” he turned to a whisper. “She’s here, and she’s right in front of me.”

He clapped his hand over his mouth again, as you felt a bit more sober than before. Oscar’s face fell and he opened his mouth to apologise, but Nicole pulled you away for the bouquet throw. 

You’d have to talk later. 

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Oscar dumped Lando on Logan, the only other driver there and left for a bit of air. More than a decade's crush revealed in three seconds. His entire childhood of friendship might be gone. He looked out at the space in front of him. How was it that he could be on a beach in Melbourne and be unhappy? How could he be surrounded by the people he loved, the person he adored, and still manage to mess it up? 

“Hey,” you smiled, illuminated by the soft glow of the fairy lights. The venue was beautiful, with a whole outside area. “I wanted to talk to you about… earlier.”

“I’m so sorry, Lando was just-“

“I know it was a joke Oscar, I’m not stupid,” you smiled. “I just wanted to clear the air.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would you think it was a joke?”

You scoffed, a smile staying on your perfect lips. “You’re a Formula 1 driver, I’m the random girl you befriended in montessori. We’re not exactly in the same league, in anything.”

He was almost offended. Why would you ever think that he didn’t want you? Did you not know how he listened to your voicemails before every race, specifically the one you sent to him after his DNF last year? When you said you loved him? 

“You’re the youngest partnered solicitor in Melbourne,” he listed. “You gorgeous, you’re smart, you're funny, you’re incredible, of course I’m in love with you,” he explained like it was obvious. 

You went wide-eyed. “If this is a joke it would be a really cruel joke-”

“It’s not a joke!” he demanded. He lunged forward, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. 

He tasted like the bubbly champagne, and that dumb vanilla lip balm you gave him all those years ago. His hands strayed down to your waist, holding you against him as he kissed you. He was insatiable, kissing you with all of him, trying desperately to show you just how much he loved you. He needed you to understand that you had been his goal from the moment he knew what love was. You were love. Whenever anyone would ask him about love, he’d just think of you. Even if he hadn’t seen or spoken to you in a while. 

You. Always. 

You cautiously ran a hand through his hair, finally kissing him back. He could’ve moaned right then and there. Kissing you was one thing, but having you kiss him back? Ecstasy. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you. 

You tried to pull back but he held you there, somehow not running out of air, which is what you were doing. 

“Osc-” you pulled back, panting. “I need to breathe.”

He nodded, unable to wipe the stupid smile off of his face as he caught his breath. 

You looked back up at him and smiled. “So that was an… eventful conversation.”

He nodded. “It was.” 

“I love you too, if I didn’t already make that obvious,” you chuckled shyly. His smile only widened. 

He pulled you into his arms again, hugging you tight. 

“Oh! I forgot to tell you!” You pulled back and produced Hattie’s bouquet. “I won the throw somehow.” 

“No way,” he smiled. 

“For you, since it’s technically our first date,” you smiled, handing them to him. 

“You got me flowers, why?” he joked. 

“‘Cause they’re pretty, like you.” 

Oscar smirked. “Does this mean you're ready to get hitched already? It is Hattie’s bouquet.”

Your face turned to one of pure horror, answering honestly without thinking. “God no-” you clapped a hand over your mouth, slightly shocked at your own words. He pulled your hand down and kissed your lips, entirely happy with that answer. 

“Only kidding baby.” 

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You sat in Oscar’s passenger seat as he drove you, a passed-out Lando, and a drunk Logan back to your house, and you thought about the first time you ever suspected Oscar to like you. 

“Hi,” his bright voice always lit up your day. You were 7, sitting in the yard, playing with toy cars. 

“Hi Osc,” you smiled as he sat down beside you. 

“I got you some flowers,” he blushed, pulling some dandelions he’d picked out from behind his back.

You raised an eyebrow. Only boyfriends and girlfriends got each other flowers, like Sasha and David, two other kids in your class. You and Oscar were not boyfriend girlfriend.  “Why?” 

“Because they’re pretty, like you,” he shrugged. “Come on, let’s race them!” 

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You chuckled, thinking about who that interaction compared to today. You looked over at Oscar, admiring his face as he drove. He glanced over, offered you a small smile and held your hand. 

Maybe drunk Lando wasn’t totally useless. Also, safe to say Nicole was happy when you told her (the next week of course, nothing was going to upstage Hattie’s day), since she literally screamed and cried.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi @linnygirl09 @lanadelray1989 @teamnovalak @gleeblegnarp

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of spanking, mentions of knife play, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of bondage, possessive Ghost, mentions of masturbation, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of being mugged, marking, just general smut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man will NOT rest until you are satisfied, both during and after sex.

You name it - a bath, massage, satin bedsheets and chocolate - it's yours.

He knows how hard it is to take all of him given both his sheer size and how rough he can be, so he knows you deserve nothing less than the best for your service.

He never thought he'd be on the giving end of the whole "Thank you for your service" speech.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: His legs, particularly his thighs. Loves how strong they are and how much you like them, too.

Have been many occasions where you've called him "dummy thick", thus leading to him actually acknowledging how large his thighs are.

Enjoys bending you over his thigh and spanking you. Period.

Yours: Anything he can mark. Which is everything.

Man will find a way to make sure you look like you've been JUMPED by how many hickeys he leaves on your body.

And if it weren't for their placement - on your neck, chest and between your thighs - people would likely assume you had been mugged.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Will cum inside you at any given opportunity.

After fucking you raw for the first time, he can't go back to wearing condoms now.

He will if you ask him, but you both enjoy the feeling when he doesn't.

Will absolutely cover you in his cum btw. And I mean c o v e r - for therapeutic purpuses.

"Therapeutic" meaning he wants to show you who owns you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Takes a pair of your underwear with him when he's called back on duty.

They remind him of your touch, your body. Make him feel a little less closer to you.

Also uses them to jack off; man is busting a fat nut whenever he's holding your underwear in one hand and milking himself with the other.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In theory, very, but he's had few-to-no chances of getting to exercise his galaxy brain knowledge.

That said, he knows exactly which buttons to press to have you crying under him. And is not ashamed to abuse that power.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

If you're AFAB: Missionary. Loves watching his cock bulge in your stomach as he ploughs into you. Your parted lips and pleading sobs are a source of intoxicating validation for him that he is the only man you'll ever want or need. He's just making sure you know that, too.

If you're AMAB: Doggy style. He threads one hand through your hand and grips it, pulling your head back to whisper obscenities in your ear. He's pushing down on the small of your back with his other hand, making sure you're not getting away from him that easily.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Dead serious.

If y'all fucking, it's either because he's showing you the most vulnerable, exposed corners of his love for you, and humour has no place in the bedroom at a time like this; or he's angry. Either way, the only smile he's cracking is one of sheer love or absolute cruelty.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

When he's away, he doesn't need to keep himself trimmed or presentable since no-one's going to be seeing that part of him.

When he's home, however, he'll get himself into hair and makeup if that's your preference. But there will be times when he forgets or simply can't be bothered, but he'll try his best :-).

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In the bedroom, nothing else exists aside from you and him.

He'll pour his soul out to you through physical touch rather than words, unless he's feeling particularly sentimental and needs you to hear how much you mean to him, how good you make him feel (both sexually and non-sexually).

Makes intense eye contact with you throughout, half-lidded and eyes glazed with the impenetrable sheen of lust and love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he's away, he'll jack off once every 2-3 days, his line of work making it difficult for him to have enough time alone to: 1.) get hard, and 2.) jack off.

When he's home, he rarely does it because he doesn't need to. He has you, and you've never turned him down, nor has he you. But if you've fallen asleep and he's still horny, and you didn't agree to partaking in somnophilia or he doesn't want to wake you, he'll deal with the issue himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Oh boy, here we go *cracks knuckles*.

Breeding kink - he wants complete ownership of you, and having part of him literally inside you is the best way he goes about it. That, and he just wants to have a happy family (aww).

Somnophilia (as previously discussed) - just something about you trusting him enough to handle your unconscious body sends him feral.

Size kink - man's massive, you're not. Likes having his ego stroked by seeing his cock bulging inside you. Need there be more said?

Knife kink - again with the trust; it means a lot to him.

Bondage - please see above. This man is a top through and through and he thrives off people being at his mercy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home, in the bedroom, shower, living room - anywhere familiar enough that he feels safe.

Not just for his sake, but for yours, too.

He needs to be somewhere secure so he can protect you.

He knows the layout of the house and so feels most confident there. Means he can relax and take his time with you.

Also means nobody else will have their prying eyes all over you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just you.

But if you do something that makes him remember just how special you make him feel (so basically anything), he is down horrendous.

Will not let you go until you've felt the full extent of his love.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any form of bodily harm.

He's terrified of hurting you.

With knife play, it's different because he can control his strength and knows he's not going to cut you deep enough (if at all) to leave any permanent scars or damage).

And thus will avoid any possible scenario where he could end up breaking that streak.

Also wouldn't have a threesome or a couple swap.

You're his and his alone, and his soul belongs to you.

He wouldn't see anyone else as a threat and more so a mockery, and trust that Ghost does not like his ego being injured.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves receiving and giving.

He's a simple man; he sees an opportunity for head, he takes it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood.

He usually enjoys going slow and pressing scorching kisses to your body if you or him want to. But when he's angry or wants to finish, he'll go fast and rough (given that you want it and can stand it).

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't partake in them.

He likes to take his time with you, even if he's angry-fucking.

He'll draw out the entire experience for as long as you can stay awake to feel it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's open-minded and will try anything you want to and will perform it to the best of his ability.

Unless it's anything to do with involving someone else.

He will not share you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Too many.

He'll outlast you by a good three rounds given his rigorous military training, patience, and behemoth build.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn't own many, if any, since you've only ever needed each other to be satisfied.

Would be open-minded if you wanted to experiment, though.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If he's feeling patient, he'll refuse to penetrate you, instead poking and prodding and stroking anywhere but where you need him most.

After that, he'll just edge you for hours until he knows you can't take it anymore.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Can be vocal but will usually grunt or groan.

Isn't a natural moaner like Konig or Alejandro, but that doesn't mean your touch doesn't drive him to the edge of insanity.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You are the light of his life and will not hesitate to stop if he thinks he's hurt you in a way you're not into.

You'll have to reassure him many times before you can continue that yes, you're okay. No, you don't need an ice pack.

He only does it because he has the upmost respect for you and loves you with every fibre the universe has to offer.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

8 inches, very girthy.

Struggles fitting it in sometimes; it burns when he pushes into you if you don't have time to be warmed up, but that doesn't stop the two of you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When he's away: he's in dangerous situations more often than not, so he doesn't really get the chance to havea sex drive. However, as mentioned earlier, he'll jack off every 2-3 days, so pretty average.

When he's at home: he can and will go at any time. If you want to spend the whole day in bed, then so be it; Ghost's not one to say no to someone in peril.

Would spend every day with you like that if he could.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on if you want or need aftercare after the fact.

If you don't, he'll wait until you've fallen asleep and join you.

But if he's giving you aftercare, he'll wait until you're tucked in bed and wait until you fall asleep.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

NSFW Alphabet Template by @the-coldest-goodbye

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Apple Crumble NSFW Alphabets Day 18: Harry Warden

Day 18 coming right up! As always I hope you all enjoy <3, I will be honest though and say it has been forever since I've actually watched my bloody valentine so I'll try my best to do harry justice here.

Notes: Minors DNI, Smut, NSFW.

A is for Aftercare (What they're like after sex):

Soft baby boy. Checks on you multiple times and makes sure you have anything and everything you need. A bath? done, A drink ? done, A snack ? done. Literally ask for anything and this man will run to the store if you don't have it at the house.

B is for Body Part (Favorite on them and their partner):

After years of working in the mines, Harry is pretty fit. I could see his favorite part of himself being a tie between his chest and his arms as both show all his years of hard work to put food on the table.

On you it's your smile, Harry's been through a lot, but with you he feels like he's at home. Your smile brings a comfort to him he hasn't experienced in forever.

C is for Cum (Anything to do with cum):

Harry wants babies (If you have the equipment to make them) so always inside you. If you can't get pregnant he'll probably still cum inside just to avoid a big mess to clean but if he does make a mess it'll be a cold day in hell before he lets you clean it.

D is for Dirty Secret:

If he could get away with it, He'd lock you up in the house and never let you leave. The people outside, the ones who let him sit in that mine and almost die, don't deserve to see you or have you in their presence. Your his baby and he wants you all to himself.

E is for Experience (How experienced are they?):

Harry... isn't the most experienced person. You might have to help him along the first few times. He knows what goes where, and how to make you feel good, But in the actual sex department he's a bit lacking.

F is for Favorite Position:

Even though he hasn't had the most experience Harry fucks like a dog. Doggy style is his favorite by far. He likes bringing you to your hands and knees for him. Knowing he can do that to you and no one else can thrills him.

G is for Goofy (How serious are they?):

He isn't the most serious but he's not really goofy either? He's more so just really soft and fluffy during sex.

H is for Hair (How well groomed are they?):

It's a bit unruly since during his time in the minds he kinda lost the will to care for himself, so you might have to remind him to continue with the upkeep of it. If it gets too bad he takes care of it without reminder but don't be surprised if it slips his mind.

I is for Intimacy (How are they during the act, romantic etc):

Very romantic, He's all about wining and dining you. He's really into foreplay just to get the two of you in the mood but its the most tooth rotting foreplay you'll ever experience.

J is for Jackoff (Do they masturbate and how often?):

He does it every so often. If you were with him when the mine accident happen then he definitely jacked off to the thought of you in the mines to keep himself somewhat sane.

K is for Kink (Their kinks):

Praise kink: Tell this boy he's doing a good job and he'll cum on the spot whether he's inside you or not. You've made him cum in his pants more then once with this.

L is for Location (Favorite places to have sex):

At home in the bedroom. Like I said your his, he doesn't want anyone that isn't him looking at you in any type of way. He would have to end them if they did and he doesn't wanna have to be killing people 24/7.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on?):

The thought of wanting nothing more then to please you is what gets him going the most. He aims to please and wants you to be as satisfied as possible.

N is for No (Something they won't do):

No degrading you, No hitting you or even being mean. He's just not into it and would never even think about hurting you even if it was for fun during sex.

O is for Oral (Oral Preferences):

Major giver. He'll let you give him a blow job here and there but he loves giving you oral. If you ask him what he wants to eat nine times out of ten the answer will be you.

P is for Pace (How fast or slow? Are they rough?):

Slow and sensual all the way. He'll get a bit rough when he gets desperate but he wants to make love and make the most of it.

Q is for Quickie ( Do they like quickies?):

He hates quickies. Why would he go for a quickie when he can give you the actual real full fledged thing. If you like them that's fine but don't expect him to like them.

R is for Risk (Are they down to experiment?):

He'll experiment within reason, Like if it's something that may hurt you or anything, it's a hard no. However if you bring something up he finds interesting then he'll be down to try it out with you.

S if for Stamina (How long can they go for?):

This man used to be a miner, he has all the stamina in the world from doing that for years. He will give you breaks and stop after awhile but he could literally go for hours on end.

T is for Toys (Do they use toys and do they like them?):

He doesn't have much experience when it comes to toys so if you bring up one night you'd like to try them he's all for it. He might not like every single toy but there are a few he does really like and a lot that he loves to use on you.

U if for Unfair (Do they like to tease?):

He thinks teasing is mean, and he's not about to be mean to his baby. If you wanna tease him just a bit to get him worked up then go for it he doesn't mind but don't be too terribly mean to him just some playful teasing.

V is for Volume (How loud can they get?):

He grunts but that's about it, Harry isn't a big noise maker in general and he doesn't talk much either so don't expect sex to be any different.

W is for Wild Card (Random things):

Soft Harry is soft, he loves cuddles and really anything where he can just hang out with you. So after he runs your aftercare bath expect him to sit on the toilet and have him just hang out with you, no talking, just you and him being together.

X is for X-Ray (What are they packing):

Harry's got a big thick dick, About 8 inches and a good amount of girth to it.

Y is for Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

High as fuck but only for you. He's never felt this way about anyone before and as far as he's concerned the sun rises and sets with you and so does his sex drive.

Z is for ZZZ (How fast do they fall asleep?):

He waits awhile. He likes to make sure your entirely ok before even thinking about sleeping. He also likes to cuddle and just hold you for awhile too. If you had any doubts of his feelings for you, you won't after this.

[holylulusworld]

Fulfillment - Flufftober 19

Summary: Dean finally lives the life he deserves and dreamed of.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Side pairing: Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff, overprotective Dean, implied smut, cuddling & snuggling, Dean is a horny dog, a hint of dirty talk and dirty fantasy

Rating: Teen

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

Trope: Pregnancy

@warmandfluffybingocards: Square 16: Breakfast in bed   

@anyfandomgoesbingo: Square 7: Decorating the nursery

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Your last battle was the day Dean told you he loves you. He didn’t want to waste another moment without having you in his arms.

Chuck, or God if you want to call that jackass so, fell without glory.

Jack went to heaven, and Castiel accompanied him to make sure no one tried to abuse the young man’s powers ever again.

Since that day, you have been living a normal life.

While everyone else dreams of a more exciting life, you are happy to have a normal and boring life.

While you turned your back on the hunter’s life, you turned the bunker into a warm and cozy home. (We don’t talk about the room where Dean stored all the weapons.)

Only because you stopped hunting doesn’t mean Dean doesn’t act like an overprotective bodyguard when it comes to you. You’re his wife, the future mother of his children, and the reason to keep on going for him.

“Sweetheart,” Dean pokes his head inside the kitchen. “No…no!” He tuts. “I told you; I’m going to make breakfast.” Your husband watches you run one hand over your grown belly while stuffing a pickle into your mouth.

“I’m having cravings,” you chew audibly while your husband makes a fuss. He doesn’t want you to leave your bedroom or the bed. If it was up to Dean, he’d wrap you in a dozen blankets and never let you leave the bed again. “And no one is going to attack us here.”

“You don’t know that” your husband argues. He steps inside the kitchen and wraps his arms around you, making you groan. “I need to keep you safe and happy.”

“Last night you made me very happy.”

Dean snickers as he remembers the way you were writhing on his cock.

“I remember you were a begging mess, Y/N. Loud and naughty. Just the way I like you.”

“Dean, we can’t make out in the kitchen again. Sammy will kill us,” you whine as your husband kisses down your neck. “I mean it, baby. We can’t get caught again.”

“But getting caught is half the fun,” Dean laughs in your neck, making you giggle. “Alright. If you are a good girl and go to our bedroom to lie down, I’ll make you the best breakfast you ever ate. I promise it’s not my dick.”

“You’re lucky I love you, Mr. Winchester. You’re a very naughty man,” you chuckle as he whispers dirty nothings in your ear. “If you don’t want to end up getting caught by your brother and Eileen, we better go back to our bedroom.”

“Sex before breakfast. I knew you were the one…” He hums in your neck. “But after you’ll eat all the delicious things I’ll cook for you…”

“A red rose, and food, huh,” Sam watches his brother carry a tray filled with breakfast and a single red rose out of the kitchen. “Did you leave some food for us?”

“Sure, Sammy,” Dean grins. “My wife needs the food. I wore her out.”

Sam shakes his head. Sometimes his brother has no shame…or like ever. “Luckily she’s already pregnant or you’d get her pregnant.”

“Who says I won’t get her pregnant again?” Dean chuckles. “We are having twins. Next time, I’ll fill her with triplets.”

“What do you say? Will she like it?” Dean shows his brother and Eileen the U-shaped pregnancy pillow he got for you. He has it draped over his shoulder to show it to Sam. “It’s good for the babies and her, right?”

Eileen smirks as her brother-in-law excitedly tells them about all the things he bought for you and the babies.

“It’s nice of you to get the pillow,” she finally says. Dean looks adorable with all the stuffies tugged under his arm. “What do you want to do with the rest?” She questions.

“While Y/N is having a nap, I’m going to decorate the nursery. We are almost done, but she’s a little under the weather this week. I’ll finish it and show her everything when she feels better.”

“Do you need help?” Sam offers willingly. “We are going finish the nursery faster if we work together.”

“Are you sure, Sammy?”

Sam flashes his brother a smile. “Well, I’m counting on your help when we are having triplets…”

“I love the pillow,” Dean states as you and your husband lie on the bed, the pregnancy pillow wrapped around your bodies. “They were right. It’s perfect for snuggling and cuddling.”

You grin as Dean moves impossibly closer to hide his face in your neck. “I heard you finished the nursery.”

“Sammy and Eileen helped. If there’s something you do not like, blame Sammy.”

“I know that I’ll love it,” you mumble sleepily. “Just like I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart, and the little beans,” he whispers in your ear while moving one hand to your belly. “I’ll always protect you and our babies. Always.”

Tags in reblog.

[winchesterwild78]

Carry on My Wayward Son pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: A little spice, (nothing too bad), fluff

A/N: Just something I’ve been thinking about. This takes place at the end of Season 15. Dean doesn’t die, cause dammit he deserved better than that. Uses Supernatural characters but doesn’t follow the storyline. All work is my own. Don’t take it. 

Dean survived and is coming home after the rebar accident. Think of this as our Season 16. 😀

Minors DNI 18+

About half an hour later you returned to the hospital with Dean’s food, and pie. Walking in his room he was sitting up and joking around with Sam. “Hey sweetheart. I’m glad you’re back. I’m starving.” He smiled at you. 

You crossed the room, sitting the bag of food in front of him and placing a kiss on his lips. You were just going in for a quick kiss, but Dean deepened the kiss. He licked your bottom lip and you parted your lips, allowing him entrance. The kiss turned passionate, all the anxiety and fear of almost losing him pouring out in the kiss. Dean’s hands went into your hair, pulling you closer. 

You moaned. Sam cleared his throat. You giggled and your face flushed red. “Sorry Sammy.” Dean laughed, “Yeah, Sorry Sammy.”

Dean began eating the food you bought and Sam grabbed a burger too. “Thanks sweetheart.” Dean said with a mouth full of food. You smiled at him and nodded. You sat down beside him and watched him eat and joke around. Your heart is full of love and clenched at the thought of almost losing him. 

Sam, Dean and you had talked about leaving hunting. Sammy had considered going back to college to be a lawyer, Dean was thinking about being a firefighter, and you had considered becoming a nurse or teacher. One thing was certain, Dean wanted to marry you and have children with you. 

A few hours later, the doctor returned to check on Dean. Checking his wound and everything else, the doctor decided Dean could go home as long as he took it easy. “Mrs. Winchester, I’m going to need you to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t push himself, he keeps the wound clean and you’re going to need to help change his bandage.” You smiled, “I can do that.” “Great, before I send in the paperwork, do any of you have any questions?” Dean smirked, “Yeah doc, when can I have sex with my beautiful wife?” You blushed and Dean laughed. “Well, as long as you two take it easy I think whenever you feel strong enough.” Dean nodded and smiled.

The doctor left the room and Dean laughed at how red you were. “Sweetheart, why are you so red? It’s not like he doesn’t know we have sex. I mean look at you baby, so beautiful.” You smiled, “I know he knows we’ve had sex, but Dean you almost died. I almost lost you and all you can think about is sex?” 

Dean took your hand, “No, that’s not all I’m thinking about. I’m thinking about our life together, our future together, that I almost died and I’d never feel your lips on mine again. It scared the hell out of me. The thought of never holding you in my arms again, damn sweetheart. I’ve been to hell and back, and not being able to hold you is worse than hell.” 

You took a shaky breath and leaned in to kiss him. “Dean Winchester, I love you so damn much.” He smirked, “I know, Jack said you prayed hard. The pain he felt from you and the love you have for me is what made him send me back. He said we deserved a chance at heaven on Earth.” 

About half an hour later Dean was discharged from the hospital. The three of you went back to the hotel the boys had been staying in before you three headed home the next day. 

“Hey guys, I’m gonna get another room so you two can be alone.” Sam said as he walked towards the front desk. You smiled and nodded, grateful for Sam. 

Dean took your hand and led you into the hotel room. He was practically pulling you in and you were giggling. As the two of you crossed the threshold of the door Dean closed the door, locking it and pulled you into his arms. 

“God I would have missed that laugh of yours, and these beautiful y/e/c eyes. These kissable lips, this neck.” Dean was kissing down your neck when you stopped him. 

“Dean, remember the doctor said you had to take it easy.” “I am taking it easy, sweetheart. Making love to you is easy.” Dean winked at you. 

Dean backed you up to the bed and laid you back. He climbed between your legs and peppered your body with kisses. You leaned up, removed your shirt and bra and Dean removed his shirt. He winced in pain. “Dean, honey, please be careful.” “Maybe I should lay down, and you get on top.” Dean suggested. “I think that’s a good idea.” You kissed his lips. 

Later that night, laying in Dean’s arms after several rounds of love making, Dean held you close whispering in your ear. “Sweetheart, I want to get out. I want to have babies with you, marry you and live a normal life.” You leaned up and looked into his green eyes that were so full of love, “What about Sammy? I know you’d never leave him in this life alone.” “He told me at the hospital he was planning on proposing to Eileen. He sees a future with her. He’s also looked into going back to Stanford. He wants out of this life too.” 

“Dean, I'd love nothing more than to marry you and have your babies. If you’re sure this is what you want then let’s do it.” Dean pulled you close and kissed your lips, “I do sweetheart, I’m tired of living this life and I want a normal life with you. Now, let’s start working on making those babies.” You laughed as Dean pulled you back on top of him. All night he hadn’t used a condom. Which was out of character for him, even with you. You knew he was trying to get you pregnant tonight. Dean was nothing if not determined when he wanted something.

The next morning the three of you headed back to the bunker. Dean drove the Impala and Sam drove your car, while you rode with Dean. A few hours later Dean was pulling into the bunker. Dean got out of the car and stretched, “Home sweet home.” 

You grabbed the bags and went to your shared room with Dean. You started to unpack as he sat on the bed and removed his shoes. Your mind kept drifting back to what Sam told you Dean said, “Tell her to look in the safe in our room.” Curiosity got the better of you. “Dean, honey. Sam told me you said to look in the safe, do you still want me to or no?” Dean’s head shot up, “Oh, um no, sweetheart. You don’t need to now.” You nodded, a little disappointed, but you figured whatever was in there was something he wanted you to have if he had died.” 

You kissed him and gently touched his face, “Baby I’m so glad you’re home, safe. I’m going to go cook some dinner.” As you started to walk away, Dean grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him, “Hey, I love you, Y/N. I promise you’ll know what’s in there, just not right now.” You nodded, “I know baby.” 

You left your room and walked into the kitchen to start making dinner. You put in your earbuds and started getting dinner ready. Singing and dancing around the kitchen. You hadn’t noticed Dean leaning against the doorframe watching you. 

As you danced and moved your hips around, Dean felt his heart flutter. He loved watching you sing and dance around like you didn’t have a care in the world. 

He knew this was one way you dealt with the turmoil in your mind. Dean was about to interrupt your mini concert when he heard his name being called. He turned and standing next to him was Jack. 

Dean stepped over and pulled Jack into a deep hug. “Jack! Man it’s good to see you kid.” “Hi Dean. I just wanted to come check on you guys.” “Well we just got back and we’re already talking about getting out of here his life.” “Dean, yours and Sam’s jobs are done. The only thing left for you two to do is carry on with your lives, the way it was intended for you to do. You and Y/N take care of each other and the babies.” 

“What babies?” Dean asked, flabbergasted. “She’s pregnant, Dean.” “Wow, so I guess I did get her pregnant last night.” “No Dean, she’s been pregnant, and with twins. You got her pregnant that night 2 months ago when you both got drunk, jumped in the lake and had..” Dean threw his hands up, “Okay Jack, I don’t need you to tell me what happened. I remember.” Dean chuckled. “Why are you turning red, Dean?” “I’m not, Jack. You know what, just forget it.” 

Jack told Dean to take care and he’d be around. As Dean walked back into the kitchen he saw you still dancing. His smile stretched across his face. You were pregnant with his babies. 

Dean crossed the room, threw his arms around you and pulled you into a searing kiss. When he pulled away you both were breathless. “What was that for?” “I just love you so much, sweetheart.” “I love you too, Dean. Now let me finish dinner. You should be resting anyway.” Dean nodded and walked back to your shared room. He walked over to the safe and took out the thing he’d been keeping in there. The one item that he’s had with him since he was little. This was what he wanted you to find in the safe. His mother’s engagement ring. Now he wanted you to have it, to be his wife and be his forever. 

Dean carried the diamond in the palm of his hand as he walked towards the kitchen. His heart pounding in his chest, palms sweating and his hands trembling. 

As he turned the corner there you were. His home, mother of his children, his future. You looked up and saw Dean. You removed your earbuds, “Dean, are you okay baby? You’re shaking.” 

Dean’s lips landed on yours, “More than okay. I love you so much. You’re my home, my best friend, my lover and the mother of my children. The one title you don’t have officially is my wife.” Dean dropped to his knee, and took your hand. “Will you marry me?” Dean slipped the ring on your finger, causing you to gasp, “Yes, Dean I’ll marry you.” He stood up and kissed you again. 

When he pulled away you looked at him, “Dean, I don’t have the title of the mother to your children yet.” You chuckled. “Actually, you do.” Dean placed his hand softly on your belly. Your eyes went wide. “Jack paid a visit and told me you’re about 2 months pregnant with twins.” 

Your breath hitched as your hands went to your belly, “Oh my god, I’m pregnant?!” 

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  

Tags: 

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@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

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@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 

[babydollmarauders]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n is Quinn’s little secret.

specific lyrics: “what started in beautiful rooms; ends with meetings in parking lots” and “you wanna scream, don't call me ‘kid’, don't call me ‘baby’, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me” and “look at this idiotic fool that you made me” and “for you, i would ruin myself, a million little times”

warnings: cheating, 18+ content in the middle, ANGST!

notes: you will not think highly of the Quinn in this fic. i know i’m supposed to be writing the Speak Now Fic List— bear with me. this was written as a way to get out of my writers block.

i can always stop.

i can.

i have freewill to refuse his advances.

i think.

but the stolen stares, the weight of his body against mine, the feeling that comes with knowing he wants me in the way i’ve longed for him to want me, it’s an addiction.

a drug that i just can’t quit, despite how dirty and used i feel afterwards. despite having to sneak away with my hood up and my head down.

the high of being his, just for a moment, outweighs the inevitable self-criticism in the aftermath.

because that’s the thing about illicit affairs; they make you hate yourself a million little times.

**

i’ve barely just climbed off of him, my back skimming the mattress, before he’s already standing from my bed.

my eyes follow his movements, the fluidity and grace of flowing through steps he’s done a million times before.

his dress shirt buttoned back on, his suit pants following, his tie lazily swung around his neck and his suit jacket pulled over to complete the look.

while i’m tangled in my thin sheet, still recovering, he’s fixing his hair in the mirror above my dresser and letting his own eyes graze his neck for marks. finding none, as i know better than to make myself known on his skin.

never seen, never heard, always secret. no marks, never wear perfume nor lipstick, never leave any trace of existence. a ghost above all else.

his eyes lock with mine in the mirror, catching my longing stare with his indifferent one.

“i’ve gotta go. you watching the game?” he knows the answer, he always knows.

“yeah, Quinny, i’ll be watching.” my cheeks flush. “i always do.”

“good. i’ll try and score a goal for you.” he winks in the reflection, my heartbeat picking up as it does every time. “bye, baby.”

there’s no goodbye kisses, no whispered sweet nothings, just quirked lips and the sound of my bedroom door shutting behind him.

it’s not long until the bliss wears off, leaving me with nothing but self-depreciating thoughts. no one to blame but myself.

he has a girlfriend.

one who isn’t you.

aren’t you ashamed?

aren’t you disgusted with yourself?

don’t you deserve better?

although, maybe not.

my phone buzzes on the nightstand beside me, an incoming call from my best friend, and despite feeling like an idiotic fool and a betrayal of my own morality, i accept the call.

“hey, Lukey!” false cheer drips from my tongue, but just like every other time, i know he won’t know the difference. “to what do i owe the pleasure of your call?”

“hey, y/n/n!” Luke’s chuckle crackles over the speaker of my phone. “i just wanted to talk, i’ve been missing you extra the past few days. i want my movie buddy.”

“i miss you too, Lukey.”

god, if only he knew how badly i’ve fucked up without him to lead me the right way.

“don’t you have Jack now to watch movies with?” i question, shaking off the urge to confess my sins. to ask for his forgiveness and plead for him to talk some sense into my love-riddled mind.

“it’s not the same. he doesn’t pay attention to the little details as well as we do.” i can hear his pout through the phone, making me giggle.

“just one more month, then we’ll have the whole summer to watch as many movies as we want.” i remind him.

“yeah, one more month.” he replies, solemnly. “anyways, UBC is still treating you good, right? no chance you’d wanna transfer to, i don’t know, Rutgers or Princeton?”

i chuckle at his lame attempt at convincing me to leave my dream school.

“i’m sorry, moose; but UBC is still where my heart lies.” oh, if only he knew just what, or rather who, the reason was for that.

“yeah, alright. it was worth a shot.” he sighs. “and Quinny’s taking good care of you, right?”

i my throat closes up and i choke on the air in my lungs.

“what?” i ask him, sitting up in my bed and pulling the sheet closer to my body.

“Quinn.” he repeats. “he promised he’d look after you. has he?”

“oh, yeah. yeah, he’s been checking in on me. making sure i’m okay.” i guess that’s one way to put what we’ve been doing.

“good. i’d have to kill him if he let you get hurt.”

**

my feet have barely touched the ground outside of my car before the lake house door is flung open. my best friend bounds out of the house, his middle brother hot on his trail, attempting to speak to him about something long forgotten by Luke.

“YOU’RE HERE!” Luke’s arms are flung around my waist, hoisting me up in the air and spinning me around.

the melody of my laugh mingles in the air as my arms wrap around his neck.

“Lukey, put me down, i already feel sorta car sick! it was a very long drive.” despite the fact that my words are true, i can’t wipe the smile off my face from being reunited with my best friend.

my feet finally fall flat on the ground as Luke backs up to look at my face, his fingers grazing all over it, more specifically the under eye bags from stress and sleepless nights.

“i thought you said you were doing great? what are these?! they’re new!”

his concern is heartwarming but before i can respond, i notice all the people behind him on the lake house porch. Jack, their friends, and most importantly, Quinn. the real reason for my newly spotted dark circles.

i muster up a chuckle, rolling my eyes.

“they’re designer. they come with the UBC tuition.” i stress, hoping he buys the ‘i’ve just been working myself to the bone with schoolwork’ excuse.

“checks out. you’ve always been my little nerd.” he grins, slinging an arm around my shoulder and turning towards the porch. “aren’t you guys gonna come say hi?”

“didn’t wanna impose on your moment.” Jack jokes, hopping down the porch steps to pull me from Luke’s grasp and into a hug.

“hey, bubby. welcome back.” he smiles, ruffling my hair mid hug. i step on his foot in retaliation, making him push me back so he could check on his white sneakers.

“it’s good to be back, bubba.” i grin as he rolls his eyes.

“hey kid, long time no see.” my head snaps over to look at Quinn, who smirks at me with a knowing look.

we saw each other three days ago, the day before he flew out to Michigan.

“hey, Quinny.” a bashful smile takes over my lips and my heart beats overtime, the natural reaction when i’m in his vicinity.

“no.” Luke speaks, pulling me into his chest protectively. “you don’t get to ‘hi’ her. you got her all year. this is my turn.”

his words make me blush and i pat his chest.

“don’t worry Lukey, this is our time.” i reassure him. “i but i would like to go inside now.”

“yeah, right.” he nods, letting me push away from him. the guys all head back into the house, leaving me to open my trunk and grab my bag.

a strong hand encases mine on the handle of my suitcase, soft lips i know all too well grazing the shell of my ear.

“i hope Luke doesn’t mind sharing.” Quinn leaves me frozen behind him, taking my bag and my breath with him.

beats of time pass before i follow suit, closing my trunk and locking my car before jogging up the porch steps and into the house.

this will be one hell of a summer. literally.

**

“i’m going for a run.”

my words are spoken through Luke’s shut bedroom door, followed by the opening of said door.

“a run?” he asks me, sleep still prominent in his face from his mid-afternoon nap. “since when do you run?”

“i started running when i was in Vancouver. i thought i told you that?” the lie is like a sour candy on my tongue, spit out quickly as though another second of these words in my mouth would make me sick.

“oh, okay. how long will you be gone? i’ll have the movie set up for when you get back.”

“i shouldn’t be too long. like an hour at most.” i tell him, tightening my ponytail.

“you’ll actually probably be all sweaty when you get back. just wake me back up when you get back and i’ll get the movie ready while you shower.”

sweaty and flushed, for sure.

“okay.”

*

“Quinn, please.” my heavy pants turn to pleads, begging Quinn to get me over the edge. his hands hold mine behind my back as i grind my hips against his.

unable to risk being caught at the lake house, our rendezvous settings have downgraded from my bedroom back in vancouver. to the parking lot of a field, only a 15 minute walk from the house.

“you want me to make you come?” his words cause a shiver down my spine, my head nodding at rapid speed. “use your words, baby. say it.”

“i want you to make me come.” i beg. that’s all it takes for him to flip us over, my body laid across his back seat as he thrusts into me, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder.

“fuck, you’re so wet baby. feel so good squeezing my cock.” i clench around him, his dirty whispers echoing in my head as the coil in my stomach tightens. he angles his hips, thrusting up into the spot that makes my eyes roll back.

“right there.” i gasp, my hands coming up to grip his shoulders. i’m careful not to dig my nails into his skin. careful to never leave any sort of marks. his right hand trails down my body, settling on my stomach.

“right there?” he teases, repeating his previous move, all while pushing one hand down on my stomach. my legs shake, and i clench around him one final time before the pressure relieves and i achieve my orgasm.

Quinn thrusts a few more times, riding me through my high and chasing his before his hips stutter and he pulls out, painting my stomach with his release.

the glass windows are fogged, the car hot and reeking of sex, the only sound being our heavy breathing as we gather ourselves again.

my eyes flutter, my energy spent.

“hey, baby.” Quinn’s hand snakes onto my thigh, shaking it slightly. “you should go. Luke is probably waiting for you.”

i nod. i know he’s right, but it still stings, being dismissed so quickly.

i wipe my stomach with a napkin from his glovebox before slipping my biker shorts back on and pulling my tank top back over my head.

“i’ll see you at the house.” he bids me goodbye, as i slip out of his car, starting my walk back to the house.

aren’t you sick of this?

don’t you feel guilty for lying to your best friend?

for betraying him like this?

don’t you think you can do better?

that you deserve better than clandestine meetings?

than being someone’s ‘other woman’?

than being tossed aside the second he’s done with you?

i’m done.

*

“alright, you ready?” Luke asks, plopping down on the couch cushion beside me, a bowl of popcorn clutched in his hand.

“yeah, press play, moose.” Luke is just about to hit play on the netflix movie when the front door swings open. Quinn steps into the house, shutting the door before noticing us on the couch.

“hey.” he gives us a nod, walking towards the stairs. “oh, Olivia is flying in tomorrow morning.”

my heart stops, my muscles tensing.

Olivia.

Quinn’s girlfriend.

the one we’ve been sneaking around for four months.

“oh cool, what time?” Luke is oblivious to my silent panic.

“six a.m, so i’m heading to sleep. night, Luke. night, kid.”

there it is again. that stupid nickname. ‘kid’.

Quinn heads up the stairs and i hear the faint sound of his bedroom door shutting.

my head snaps over to Luke.

“hey, i gotta go get something from my room, i’ll be right back.” i pat his leg before rising from my seat, making my way towards the stairs.

“oh, okay.” he nods, getting on his phone as i walk up the stairs.

i come to a stop outside of Quinn’s door, debating knocking before i decide not to, in order to not raise suspicion from Luke.

i swing the door open, slipping in before quickly shutting it behind me.

Quinn sits on the foot of his bed, head rising from looking at his phone. his brows furrow before he raises one in questioning.

“didn’t get enough of me earlier?” he teases. “aren’t you and Luke watching a movie? i don’t think we can have a quickie right now-”

“we’re done.” his lips snap shut, whether in shock, or disbelief, or just plain speechlessness, i’m not sure. but he’s silent, so i continue. “no more meetings. no more.”

my heart aches in my chest, my throat getting tighter and tears bubble up in my eyes.

i thought it would be easy to stop.

i used to tell myself i could do it whenever i wanted. but now, i know it’s not true.

there was no ‘last time’, only this afternoon. no soft goodbyes. i’ll be stuck seeing him for the rest of my life. he’s a mistake that i became all too comfortable with. with him, i let my morals wash away like a drawing in sand. but i was done hating myself, thinking so low of myself for my forbidden actions.

he chuckles as if i told him a joke, as if i didn’t just tell him we were over. standing from the bed and prowling towards me, his hand raises to cup my cheek.

“what are you talking about, baby?”

it’s always ‘baby’ in secret. ‘kid’ while in company. he makes me feel so stupid, like i’m a child; naive and small.

“don’t call me ‘baby’.” i swat his hand away from my cheek. “and don’t call me ‘kid’, either. do you not know my name?

“do you not know the name of the girl you’ve been fucking in secret for the past four months? that you’ve known since you were ten?”

his nostrils flare, stepping back as though i’ve slapped him.

“i know your name, y/n.” his words drip with venom, his lips press together into a straight line. “they’re just nicknames.”

“they’re cruel.” i spit. “you know what you’re doing. i’ve made myself available to you for too long. i’ve let you use me and throw me to the side as if i’m nothing. i’ve become something i never would’ve imagined i would be-”

“y/n-”

“no! this is my turn to talk. look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. i’m actively lying to my best friend, your brother. i’ve become the ‘other woman’. a title i would’ve smacked myself for, just six months ago. i’ve lost my sense of morality. i’ve become someone that i don’t even recognize; because of you. so, i’m done.

“i will not be your secret anymore. i deserve more. i deserve better than someone who keeps me hidden. who dismisses me mere minutes after using my body.”

tear tracks stain my cheeks, my face feels tighter under the salty liquid and i quickly wipe them away.

“you’re right.” my lips part slightly, my gaze fixating on the man in front of me.

he seems genuine. his eyes glistening with pity and an unrecognizable emotion.

“i’m sorry. you deserve better.” he tells me, nodding his head solemnly.

“i do.” i reply. “and i’ve been rejecting everyone that is interested because i’ve been hoping and praying to any higher power that you would love me the way that i’ve loved you since i was sixteen, but that’s not gonna happen, is it?”

he shakes his head ‘no’ and i can’t even hold it against him, because at least he’s finally being honest with me.

i bite my lower lip, nodding dejectedly and gripping the doorknob behind me.

“for you, i’ve ruined myself a million times.”

i slip out the door, padding back down the stairs and leaving the man i love, and our illicit affairs behind me.

Luke’s head rises when i return, his eyebrow raised and his lips parted, surely ready to question what took me so long. but with one glance at my tear stained face and bloodshot eyes, his mouth closes, his arms opening instead.

i drop onto the couch, burying my face into his neck. his arms wrap around me tightly, one hand holding the back of my head as the other rubs my back.

“i know.” he whispers. “it’s okay. i know.”

his words are mumbled against the shell of my ear and the emotion with which their spoken confirms that he knew what i’d been doing. they only succeed in making me feel even more guilty. all this time, i thought i’d been doing a pretty good job of hiding our meetings this summer, but my best friend is smart, catching on a lot more than i realized.

“i’m so sorry, Lukey.” i sob, my apology muffled by his skin.

“it’s okay. and i promise, it’ll be okay, y/n/n. i’ve got you.”

[abstract-crossverse]

helloo! I love your writing so much, and saw you were taking requests for doors so I decided to slide in!

if I may, could I request a Jeff x Reader thing? only if you want to, I just haven’t seen much of him and I think he deserves more attention :)

Helloo! Im glad writing is enjoyable! I’m still getting into the hang of things again, so do excuse me, its about time I get to doing my long ass how you meet/dating headcanons with fic intervals again One Jeff comin’ up!

===========================

Jeff x Reader [Hc/Fic, fluff]

Jeff, the sweetest entity and friendliest one in the Hotel.

Surprise surprise, he's not one of the Human turned Entity ones

Genuine supernatural creature right here

Unlike Jack and Shadow, the founders of the hotel, he’s just here for business, and was also hired as the hotel’s chef, he makes one good pasta I’ll tell you that

Also he’s not a maniac who loves to torture people for funnies like the other two… well, at least that Jack’s whole spiel, Shadow… is too reserved, and we don't know his motives with the hotel, he only helped with the furniture and keeps knocking down bOOKSHELVES

Jeff never really leaves his room after the Library, it's a good room, and he got a pretty good deal with Jack to make his room unavoidable for players, poor things must be famished

Which means if you come over to his room hungry and mentioned, you bet he’s going to sit you down and make you some food, in exchange for some coins of course, this ain't free dining

Most players just stop to take a breather in his room, have a chat with Goblino and buy something they need from his wares

Flashlight? Lucky for you, he has one with a full battery today! Cross? Skull key? Lighter? He has it all, being a shadow like entity has its perks, he slithers around the shadows at times and snatches anything he can get his hands on unnoticed, nothing on drawers though, it's too risky to be seen and Timothy doesn't quite enjoy visitors too much… and Jeff himself is not the biggest fan of spiders

Anyway, you meet like everyone else meets him, get past Figure, get to his room, take a breather from the adrenaline dying down.

He greets you from his stand with a wave of his tentacle as Goblino also greets you, and Bob couldn't even be bothered to look your way

You’re a regular, technically everyone is, but some don't spare too much time to chat or even tip, how rude!

You, however, stick around for a while to talk to either Goblino, buy a snack or one of the things on his stand, and you always tip, because of course you do.

Your friendly nature draws Jeff to you, looking especially happy whenever you come around, waving excitedly, he shakes your hand when you approach as a greeting as he keeps himself in the shadows, the lights hurt his eyes so he’s not crossing his stand ever.

He watches you from his stand as you talk with Goblino, something warm cooking in his heart, he gets flustered when you talk with him, how odd, he’s never felt this before

He doesn't talk, he can, but he doesn't aside low rumbles or clicking/chattering, you're not too sure what those sounds are, he can't speak English or any other language aside his mother tongue, which is cryptic and hard to understand for anyone else who doesn't speak it, though the other entities seem to understand him, even Goblino, you wonder if it's just players who can’t.

He can write, crudely, but he’s trying, after all the S on his sign is backwards, he’s learning, give him a moment.

You two can keep up conversations sometimes, he writes on a notepad you gave him once, and you speak, he’s glad you try to adjust to make him comfortable and include him

His sentences are broken, but you get the gist

You sighed before opening the door to the “Store” room, a familiar tune filling your ears and your heart with relief, Figure had been more aggressive today for whatever reason, you wondered if something upset it or if it was just in a bad mood?

You didn't have a clue, but that didn't matter now, you just hoped they would calm down until you reach the warehouse, for now, you can breathe again. Jeff looked over from his stand, visibly lighting up in mood as he waved an arm at you, turning towards you as Goblino greeted you from his seat.

“¡Oye, amigo! Good to see you in one piece!” the goblin yelled, counting the coins he had snatched from drawers, you waved, about to say something before the goblin turned to the skeleton beside him “what’s that? … HAHAH! Yeah, Bob says you sure don’t look alive!”

It made you chuckle a bit, you knew you didn't, you were getting tired of all these runs and repeated cycles, the adrenaline only fueled you so much, and the runs you actually got to the elevator weren’t feeling as satisfying as they used to be. You silently agreed with the goblin as he went back to counting his coins, sitting on the chair Jeff pulled up next to his counter

Noticing how tired you looked, he moved the radio across the room to the table next to the duo, lowering the volume a bit more to make it ambience noise for you both, you appreciated the small gesture, as much as you liked his music it was starting to give you a headache

He pointed at the items on the counter as his head tilted with a chirp, you shook your head

“Not now at least, buddy, I’m just-... tired…” you said leaning against the counter, he nodded in understanding, moving the items behind the counter, leaving only one of the pillows he previously had set a crucifix on.

His arms pulled a notebook from behind the counter and a pen, gifts from you, it made you smile a bit as you faintly remembered the day you gave him that to talk with you, he looked so happy, though you were brought back to reality when he turned the book to you

“Figure angry tonight, because of Ambush I thinks, you okay? They hurt you?” as you read, he made worried rumbling sounds at you with worried eyes, seeming to look you over for any injuries. His gentle concern was appreciated, smiling warmly at him despite your tired eyes

“I noticed, they didn’t hurt me, I’m alright, I just… I dunno… just tired, this cycle is getting exhausting, I might be starting to realize I won’t ever be able to leave this place…” you let out a couple sad laughs, looking down at the counter, it was true, the possible harsh reality was setting in, and you didn't know how to take it, but it wasn’t well, you may never see your family again, if you even had one, you barely remembered, this place fucked with your memories and you hated it.

Out of your view, Jeff seemed saddened by your mention of leaving, he tried not to think about it much himself, but the idea of you leaving made him scared, sad. He didn't want you to leave, but he knew that this place wasn't built for your survival in the first place. Silence hung thick in the air for a moment before you heard scribbling again, the notebook sliding into your view, “Have you eaten? Drink water? Want anything, friend?” The hospitality made you scoff a fond laugh, shaking your head again, “I'm fine, Jeff, thank you though.”

You heard him chirp again, closing your eyes just for a moment, you felt his arms gently tug at your arms up, you looked surprised as he silently asked you to raise your arms a bit, pulling the pillow still on the counter to you before scribbling again, “rest head, tired friend, you need it. May I play with hair?”

You laughed, warmth rising to your cheeks as he put an arm on your shoulder, gently tugging you down, “sure buddy, god how I am so lucky to have met you?”

He let out a happy thrill as you laid your head on the cushion, sighing as he played with your hair, another arm gently rubbing your back as you crossed your arms over your head, slowly slipping into sleep, he wouldn’t mind if you took a nap, would he? Nahhh…

Jeff looked over your relaxed form, completely forgetting anything else around them as he focused solely on you, your hair, your face, your mannerisms, looking over you softly, love struck as ever, letting out gentle thrills and almost purr-like rumbling, he knew he was completely infatuated with you, he knew his kind’s mannerisms regarding love, he just needed the perfect time and words to let you know

El Goblino and Bob had long moved on, figuring to give the two of you some privacy, despite Jeff completely forgetting they were there in the first place. The lights in the room dimmed with a flick of an arm before gently wrapping around you, pulling another cushion for himself as he laid his shadowy head beside yours, glowing eyes gently casting light on your face for a couple of moments, seeming to either have really fluffy, long hair or fur sprawling on the makeshift balcony as he slipped into sleep himself

I was very tired and sleepy when I wrote this, can you tell I think falling asleep near each other and cuddling is the biggest sign of trust? It's also my favorite thing in couple scenarios, I think it's so cute

Anyway, his shop room is completely off limits for other entities, really only Rush kinda breaks that rule sometimes, he just has no other way to go through, Jeff understands but it's a pain to replace the lamps

Jack can’t do shit if he finds you two being sappy with each other, Jeff isn’t someone he can control like that, he’s a business partner, and he can't just kick the guy out because of something so “petty” in the eyes of other entities, also too much paperwork

He CAN however make the entities go nightmare mode on you out of no where, increased difficulty mf good luck

But he won’t find out, why? Because Jeff is very good at hiding things, including other entities and players, so you’re the only one allowed behind his counter

He’ll hide you behind there if he feels Jack’s presence approaching, it's so dark in there that if you make not sounds he wouldn’t have less of a clue you're even there

I’ll be honest I don’t feel like writing how he confesses atm, so I’ll be owing y’all this one, but let's get into the dating hcs before those ideas cease existing in my mind

Jeff is the softest coziest entity to cuddle with, he goes neck to neck with Rush in that department, with Rush only being a bit tougher due to whatever he is, meanwhile Jeff is all soft all around, squishy

Like the other he has two forms, I like to think as much as he may have smooth tentacle arms and shit, he’s a fluffy ball of shadow, and in his humanoid form, that fluff goes to hair

It's long too, like that shit almost drags on the floor, he loves when you play with his hair just as much as he likes playing with yours

He’ll actually melt in your hands if you play with his hair or trace his face

Usually he wears a long coat in his humanoid form, like a cartoonishly shady seller on the street, not much under it aside black pants and, oddly enough, a ruffled white shirt, he doesn't even wear shoes

He likes cuddling with you in the dark of the room he stays in, it's a comfy little room just like the other bedrooms you can find, it's just different in ways that it's personalized to Jeff’s liking, it’s also connected to the kitchen

Cooking? Amazing. With you? Even better. He’ll call you over to help him cook you anything if you want to, give you a headlight and batteries for it, and get to work!

Best cook for sure, he’ll cook and bake you anything you’re craving, just give him a name and maybe a recipe and he’ll do it

Gift giving and quality time are his love languages, for sure, he adores listening to you ramble about anything you like, explain lore of any media you like for hours, he’ll listen and write down questions for you to answer, sometimes he’ll tune out and just look at you with the dumbest love struck expression ever.

Anything he finds in the hotel floors and stuff that remind him of you are going directly to you when you get to his room, even of how he found it is… less than conventional

“Hey Jeff, how are you, hun?” *happy chirping as he gives you a shiny brooch* “oh that's cool, thank you so much!- why is there blood on it.” *confused thrilling*, he thought he cleaned it well enough, ofc he got it off a corpse

You are not immune to receiving comfy knitted sweaters and scarves from him, he knits as a hobby too, anything he makes for you will be to your preferences and sizes, it can get pretty cold in the hotel sometimes!

Surprisingly, Guiding Light is not a worrywart if you ever tell them you're with Jeff, they like Jeff and knows he’s a good… entity, so he gives you both their thumbs up of approval

The other entities, though? If Jeff ever tells them, it's a lot of mixed feelings

“Oh hey Jeff what's going on?” *chattering and chirping* “oh that's cool glad your business is going we- FUCK YOU MEAN YOU'RE DATING A PLAYER?!?!?!”

BUT LIKE, THEY CAN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT, I mean, this guy is associated with Jack so for all they think, they work under him too, they sometimes fear what he could do if they dare fuck around with him, as much as he’s a sweetheart. Don't hold it against them, though, they're not used to constant niceness from entities like him

Regardless, he’s honestly the best one to date in the hotel, sure Jack would make your runs a nightmare, but he wouldn’t touch you with a 10-foot pole if he can help it, as long as it doesn't hinder Jeff’s job then you’d be fine in theory

[suuuupernovaaa]

kxuke

kxuke [ˈk’u.kɛ] adj. safe

Anonymous Request: What about Avatar reader x Neteyam with the "I won't say I'm in love" trope. The reader was part of Quaritch's team, but she got captured by the Sullys. She was under Neteyam's supervision, and they both fell in love slowly. However, they don't want to admit their feelings. Reader ends up betraying Quaritch's and fighting alongside the Sullys.

This would probably do better as a multi-chaptered story, so you may see it expanded as such in the future.

5.3k words

For two months, they've carried me from place to place, kept me in the dark, barely spoken to me. When I wake up, I'm back on base, but I have no information to give my team.

I can't see outside. I can't hear anything but what sounds like leaves blowing in the wind and birds chirping, even though I know it's not what I'd think of as birds.

Every morning, it's the same thing. The oldest Sully brings me something to eat, asks me if I have anything to tell him, and I say no. I ask if he has anything to tell me, and he says no.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

I'm tired, I'm sore, and I smell terrible. I'm under 24/7 surveillance by one of the Sullys, and I'm pretty sure that soon, they're going to give up and kill me. After all, I'm the enemy, part of Quartich's elite squad, and there's nothing I have to offer them.

I know what they know: Quartich is hunting the Sullys, and he won't stop until he kills them all, even the children.

The solitude is wearing me down, and my team is growing tired of my uselessness. I don't know why they keep putting me back under every morning - but they do, hoping I'll have something useful for them. I never do.

It's another morning - can't say whether it's sunny, or cloudy, or rainy - and Neteyam arrives as he always does, but he's a little early, and I'm ashamed that he finds me crying.

I begged my team not to put me back here, not to let me spend another day in dark isolation, but they don't want the avatar - a hefty investment - to go to waste. If she doesn't wake up, the Sullys will definitely kill her.

Neteyam clears his throat, and sets the usual meal of fruit and bread in front of me.

"Thanks," I say.

He nods. He doesn't ask if I have anything to tell him, so I don't either. Then, he leaves. Wonderful. The only social interaction I ever get, and it's gone.

I spend the day as I always do - pacing, doing jumping jacks, stretches, and staring at the dark ceiling, wondering who's standing just outside, keeping watch.

As the sun begins to go down, I feel relief. Soon, I can close my eyes, fall asleep, and return to freedom. Though, it's starting to feel less like freedom.

I took this job because I didn't have anything else in my life, and I've always been a good soldier - but it's not like I really believe in Quartich. Sometimes, I've wondered if what we're doing here is even right.

Is the human race so important that we need to displace these people to continue? What good have we done, that we deserve that?

Unexpectedly, the flap to the tent, or pod, I'm in, opens up, and Neteyam steps through.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, standing up.

He holds a thick cloth out to me. "Over your eyes," he says.

My heart rate quickens. This is it. They're finally going to kill my avatar. I've heard it's unpleasant, dying in your avatar, and it isn't like you get to go back to your human body after. It's the end for both of you.

I have to admit, I'm also a little relieved as I take the cloth from him. The last two months have been exhausting, and psychologically damaging, and made me question every single choice I've made in my life.

I can't keep doing this, and I can't escape... so maybe death is the only way out.

After I tie the cloth securely over my eyes, Neteyam checks thoroughly.

"I can't see," I say, as if he would trust me.

He grabs my arm, and pulls. "Come."

This is it.

--

My feet touch sand, and then water, and I want to scream with joy. It's dark out, not that I could see anything anyway, and quiet. I don't hear anyone else around us.

"Water," I whisper. Neteyam keeps pulling me. Is he going to drown me in it? Could he maybe just let me... clean up a little, before he kills me? I don't want to die this dirty.

Neteyam grabs my hand, and places something in it. A small, wet sack.

"To clean," he says, and I hear a pistol cock. "Don't go far, and don't make noise."

Holy shit, he is going to let me clean up. Sure, he's going to hold a gun and watch me wash my naked body, but I'll take it. Without any hesitation or shame, I pull off the dirty tank top and shorts I've been wearing, and go deeper into the water. I scrub every inch of myself, even under the mask, and scrub my hair until my scalp burns. This is definitely an ocean, the salty water burns my eyes and my dry lips, but I don't care at all. It still feels so amazing.

"Oh, my god," I moan when I come up for air. "Thank you."

Neteyam says nothing, just grunts, and grabs my arm. "Come, we must go back."

I'm definitely naked, but Neteyam pulls me away anyway and honestly, the thought of putting those disgusting clothes back on makes me want to die, so I leave them in the ocean. I would rather be naked and clean.

Neteyam takes me back to my prison, and pulls the cloth from my eyes.

We stare at each other for a long moment. "Why?" I ask.

He shrugs, turns, and leaves. I see laying on the floor, some clothes - if you can call them that. The top is essentially a tube top, easy enough to put on, but the bottoms take me a little while longer to figure out, especially with the tail. But they're clean, and so am I, and I cry again.

--

That isn't the last kindness that Neteyam does for me. Late at night, when everyone else is asleep, he often returns, bringing me new clothes, food, even letting me wash once in a while.

After a couple weeks of this, I work up the courage to ask him why.

"You haven't told them where we are, or they would have come. And they keep sending you back. You must be... lonely."

I bite my lip. "I can't tell them. I don't know. They keep sending me back because, because I don't know, and they say, if I don't wake up here, you'll kill... her." I gesture to my avatar body, who is me, but not me. "Why haven't you killed me?"

"Mom and dad can't agree," Neteyam shrugs. "What's your name?"

It takes me aback that I've never told him that, and that he's never asked before. "Y/N," I reply.

"Why do you do what you... do? Why follow him?"

I look down. "Earth is bad, Neteyam. You have parents who care about you, right?"

He nods.

I shrug. "I never had that. I never had anyone. I just had the marines. And I was good at it, so they sent me here. I just... didn't have anywhere else to go."

Without another word, Neteyam leaves again.

I haven't told my team about any of this. I don't think I'm going to.

--

Neteyam keeps asking me questions, every day, about my home on earth, what happened to my family, what being a marine is like... and I ask him questions, too, about growing up on Pandora, about his family, but I'm careful not to ask anything about where we are. All I know is, we're by the ocean. That wouldn't be very helpful information, anyway.

I look forward to seeing Neteyam every day, more than I've ever looked forward to anything in my life. Just sitting and talking with him brings me more happiness than anything else I can remember, and it's equal parts upsetting and confusing.

I'm not sure where I stand, or where we go from here. I'm just a Sky Person, and an evil one... I couldn't possibly be someone Neteyam would want to be friends with, and I definitely couldn't earn the trust of his family, so what will become of me?

Will they still kill me?

Eventually, Neteyam isn't alone when he comes one afternoon. I expected this eventually, but I didn't expect it would be Neytiri, his mother.

It's our first time coming face to face, and in the dim light of my prison, she's terrifying - her wide, glowing eyes, staring down at me; she looks like an angel of death, beautiful and terrifying.

I want to shrink, and avoid eye contact, but my training won't allow it. I stand, shoulders back, returning her gaze.

"Almost four months, we've kept you alive," she says, standing tall and strong before me. "And now I know my idiot son has let you out. You could have told them where we are. Why haven't you?"

"I wear a blindfold," I reply, and glance over her shoulder at Neteyam. The air is tense, and he stares at his mother nervously.

"Bah, I'm not stupid. Tell me why you haven't told them."

She's right. What I've felt and heard outside these walls, it could give my team vital information - but I haven't even let them know I've set foot outside.

I glance at Neteyam again, and this time, she follows my gaze.

"It's my son. You care for him?" She wrinkles her nose, disgusted at the thought.

"No, I - I just... don't want to help them, I guess."

She looks me, head to toe, one more time, and then they both leave.

--

Something has to change. I feel I've lost control of my life, and I want just a little bit back.That evening, when I wake up on base, I give a disappointing report to my team, and then make my plans to leave.

There are countless outposts on Pandora where I could access a link remotely - a few that base can't track, because they're so remote that they had to be fully self-sufficient. All I need to do is pack a bag, and I can be on my way, but it will have to be on foot. Human foot.

Any vehicle that I can steal, they can track. And the forest is easy to navigate in my avatar body, but my human body is small and slow - not to mention, I'll be a target for every predator out there.

Still, I'd rather die in this human form than continue on the way I have. So, I pack my bag, and head out. No one really cares what I do at night anyway, as long as I link back up in the morning for another useless day of gathering zero intel.

--

It takes two days, which is much longer than I thought it would, and I just barely scrape through the jungle before finding one of the scientist's outposts.

There is a chance they'll find me here, but they'll have to search a long time to do it - and the team of avatars would have to fly back, and abandon their physical search for the Sullys, to do it. It doesn't seem like they'd make me a priority.

It's mid-morning when I arrive, dirty and hungry, and as much as I want to link to my avatar - who hopefully hasn't been sunk to the bottom of the ocean yet - I need to clean up, and eat.

As soon as I'm done, I put myself under, and pray it works.

It's moments before I wake up, and I'm disoriented when I do. I usually wake up in the dark, but this time, it's blindingly bright out. I'm not lying down in my lonely hut, instead, I'm speeding through the air, the wind whipping at my back, and Neteyam at my front.

My eyes take a long time to adjust, and my lungs take even longer to get in a good breath of air. I'm on Neteyam's Ikran, tied to him, face to face.

"What the hell!" I scream, and without thinking, wrap my arms around his waist. I'm not a pilot, so not really one for flying. In fact, heights really aren't my thing at all. I cling to him, taking in the scenery around me through wide, terrified eyes.

We're above the ocean, with nothing in sight as far as I can see, which only adds to my fear.

"You're alive," Neteyam responds, having to shout for me to hear him. "I wasn't sure if they'd killed you or not."

"I'll explain when we land," I yell in response, and he nods.

It's very strange, being this close to Neteyam. He's grabbed my arm, even pulled me along by my hand before, but now, I'm straddling him, sitting in his lap, a tight rope around my torso, holding me to him - well, it's purpose was obviously to hold my limp avatar to him, but I'm glad to have the security, nonetheless.

He stares ahead, focused on where we're going, and it allows me a little bit of time to think. Not about our situation, or the plan either of us has... but about him.

I can't deny the joy I feel at being here with Neteyam, and I'm not sure if I'm just glad to have woken up anywhere but my dark, lonesome hut, or if it's something more.

Abandoning my life back on Earth to come to Pandora pretty much guaranteed I would never enjoy a romantic relationship again. I'd never been interested in marines, ironically enough. And scientists certainly weren't interested in me. And that was kind of... it, here.

Except, Neteyam. A man my age. A man who has been taking care of the enemy, showing me mercy, visiting me every day, asking me questions about myself and listening carefully to the responses.

It's such a complex, confusing situation, and there was no way to know if it was just being the baseline of Na'vi decency, or if it was something more for him.

It's a long ride, and I have hours to think about all of it, and how hungry I am.

When we finally land, Neteyam hands me a bag full of dried fruits and meat. I take it gratefully, and ask him what's going on.

"When you didn't wake up, there was a lot of debate about what to do with your body. My mother wanted to throw you to the ocean, my father was starting to agree with her and I... didn't think it was right. So I offered to move you, to wait and see if you woke up, and to leave you far from where my family is if you didn't."

I chew on the tough, dried meat. "Oh. Why?"

Neteyam looks away, removing his poncho, and tucking it into his bag. "I do not want you to die."

I nod. "Oh."

"You tell me this - what do you stand for?"

That's not something I've ever been asked. The answer would have been easy four months ago. I was a marine, I had an assignment, and I was serving my country.

But now I know, I never believed in that. It was just something to make me finally feel like I belonged, but it wasn't something I truly wanted to belong to.

"Neteyam, I really don't know. I don't want to help the Sky People, and I won't do anything to harm your family, but... it leaves me, sort of in-between. Do you understand?"

He nods.

"And I, well, I do care about you. You don't have any reason to be this nice to me, to treat me this good. Why do you do that?"

He furrows his brow, looking as confused as I feel.

"I don't know," he replies.

I don't, either.

--

We set up a camp nearby, Neteyam hangs a hammock in a tree while I stand by uselessly, trying to watch and learn. He hunts after that, and insists I join, but as quiet as I try to be, I'm still too loud.

So, Neteyam finds a new purpose - teach me to hunt. And to fish. And to be like his people.

It's fucking hard. I always thought I was strong, fast and capable, but I'm nothing compared to Neteyam. I lag behind, I'm clumsy and slow, and it takes me forever to learn simple concepts.

Neteyam is endlessly patient with me, in a way I don't deserve, and as the days drag on, we both smile a lot more. We even find ourselves laughing, on occasion.

Neteyam likes to tease me about my lack of coordination, but it's easy to see that he likes teaching me, otherwise he wouldn't take such care to explain things the way he does.

These weeks in the jungle with him, they're the best of my life.

When I wake up in my human body at night, I can't deny how disappointed I am. It's messing with my head, how the tall, blue version of myself is starting to feel like the real me, and this small human feels like the imposter.

Eventually, I'm able to open up to Neteyam about this.

"My father, he asked Eywa to... to transfer him, into his avatar. He had the whole clan to help him, though."

"Why did she do it?"

"He was meant to be one of The People."

I consider that for a while.

--

It's been a couple weeks, just Neteyam and myself here, and I can't deny how I'm feeling any longer.

It makes no sense, for me to be in love with him, but I undeniably am. It's really stupid actually, to fall in love with someone under my circumstances, but I've always thought love was kind of stupid anyway.

So I make a request.

"Do you think... Eywa would let me stay, in this body?"

"Do you want to be one of The People?"

I bite my lip and think. "I want to belong to something bigger than myself, and I want it to be something... selfless. Something that doesn't demand I be something I'm not. And I want, to stay with you."

The corners of his mouth pull up into a smile. "I think she would let you. I think it's dangerous to try, without the clan, but if you want to..." I see the wheels in his head spinning. "We will need your human body, and we will need the tree of souls. At night."

We form a plan.

--

Neteyam carries my avatar in his arms, and I trail behind, very slowly, in my human body. It took us three days to travel back to the outpost where I was staying, and two more days to travel, the three of us, to the tree of souls.

We had to wait then, just outside, until it was deserted.

"You need to be sure," Neteyam says, towering over me as we wait in the wings. "If you are not sure, it will not work." He reaches out and puts a giant hand on my small shoulder. I wonder what he thinks of my dark skin, my curly hair, my frame and build... but I guess it won't matter much longer.

"I'm sure. And listen, I might die down there, right?"

He takes in a deep breath. "Maybe."

I nod. "Great. Well, listen, I might as well just say it then. I'm mostly doing this because Earth sucks, humans suck, and I don't want any part of it anymore. But I'm also doing it because, I think, I might be in love with you a little bit. So, I don't want to die without having said it. And I don't want you to say anything back. You can tell me how you feel, one way or another, if I wake up. Otherwise, say it over my grave."

I can tell Neteyam is trying not to roll his eyes - something he does often in my presence - so he just nods, and squeezes my shoulder.

When the coast is clear, we approach together, and Neteyam walks me through it. I watch him lay down my avatar body, and I lay similarly to her, our heads near each other.

I should be nervous, but I mostly feel calm.

Didn't I want to die just a month or two ago? And now here I am, with a second chance at life.

Neteyam begins to pray over me, and it sounds a little clumsy, but he's got the spirit. I close my eyes, and feel featherlight touches all over my body... and I drift off.

--

She closes her eyes, and Neteyam's heart squeezes in his chest.

He knows this is stupid. He's no Tsahik, and they need the full power of the clan to make this transfer... but that's not possible, and he doesn't see any other way to keep Y/N for himself.

He knows it's selfish, but he also knows that his mother allowed him to fly off with this woman, and that has to mean something.

Eywa will see how strong she is, how determined she is, and how much she deserves a true home. Every time Neteyam thinks about the stories she told him of her childhood, the neglect and the abuse, he has to fight back equal parts rage and incredible sadness.

He thinks of those months, locked in her mauri pod, barely any sunlight or interaction, and wonders how she survived - but now he knows, she survived worse than that at the hands of people who were meant to love and protect her.

Y/N seemed so strong at first, and she is, but he can truly See her now. Part of her is still that child, seeking love and confidence in another person, and he wants nothing more than to give it to her - his family's opinion on it be damned.

He prays hard, begging Eywa to give Y/N this one good thing in her life, finally, and waits for her to open her eyes.

--

It feels as if I drift off into a dream, into a very deep sleep, and when I open my eyes, I feel well-rested - I can't remember the last time I felt well-rested.

It isn't until I see Neteyam hovering over me that I realize what's happened. I tear my eyes from his to look down at myself - and see blue.

It fucking worked. It shouldn't have! We had everything against us - except Eywa, who granted our prayers.

Neteyam lifts me up slowly by my shoulders. It doesn't feel like when I link with this body from the lab; something about this feels different. I never felt fully settled in this body until now.

I turned to look at her - myself - and wonder if I should mourn. I think of all the mistreatment I accepted in that body, all the times I let myself be hurt and abused, and swear to myself that I will not let that happen in this new life I've been given.

"We need to bury her," I say.

Neteyam nods, and wordlessly lifts her up into his arms. I watch as he leans down, removing her mask, and placing a kiss on each of her dimpled cheeks.

"She is beautiful," he says, and my heart wells up into my throat, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

She is beautiful, and she deserves to rest now. It doesn't take long to find her a quiet resting place, and I shed a few tears for her as we cover her up.

"Goodbye," I whisper, wiping the dirt from my hands, and Neteyam joins me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Eywa has given you a new life. What will you do with it?"

I set my jaw and furrow my brow. "I will fight with you, and your family."

--

We make a long, hard journey back across the sea to Neteyam's family and the Metkayina. For the first time, with my own eyes, I see the place I was held captive.

It's beautiful, with white sand beaches and blue green water. It's hard to imagine how depressing and desolate this place seemed to me not that long ago.

We are accosted on the beach as soon as we arrive, and through the large gathering crowd, Neteyam's parents and siblings rush to us.

"What is she doing here?" Neytiri hisses, grabbing her son's arm. He pulls back from her, and reaches out for my hand, pulling me to his side as dozens of pairs of eyes watch.

"There is much to discuss. Y/N is not a threat to us. You must listen to me."

Neytiri hisses at me, and I stand silent and expressionless. Jake looks on, his expression somewhere between anger and confusion. He turns to another man, tall and imposing, covered in tattoos - it's very easy to tell he's in charge.

"We'll handle this," he tells the man, who nods, and Neteyam and I are pulled through the crowd and off the beach, to a set of mauri pods. I've never seen them before, but Neteyam described them to me while we were away. Without the door covered, they're light, airy, and beautiful.

We enter one of the largest ones, and Neteyam's parents turn to us. "Explain."

Neteyam takes a deep breath and does his best to tell them everything, starting with all I learned in the month we were away together, the way I dedicated myself to learning our ways - just like Jake did, when he first met Neytiri.

The comparison is clever, I have to give him that.

I don't know how I feel about what he says next, as he describes my life on earth to his parents. Neteyam is the only person I've ever shared that with, and it hurts to hear him discuss it so freely, but I understand why he's doing it. If they're going to spare my life, they might need to feel a little sympathy.

"Y/N deserves to be one of The People. She could have given us away and instead, she chose to abandon her people, and risk her life in asking Eywa to allow her to stay in this form. And Eywa has granted that request. I buried her human body myself."

For the first time, neither of Neteyam's parents have anything to say. Everyone stares at each other for a long, tense moment.

"I would never do anything to hurt your family," I say finally, stepping out from behind Neteyam. "I can't do anything but promise you that, on my life." I raise my hand to my chest, pressing it to my heart.

"You have passed through the eye, and return?" Neytiri asks.

Neteyam and I both nod.

"You swear this is true, son?" Jake asks solemnly. "You did this yourself? Just the two of you?"

"Impossible," Neytiri adds.

I shrug.

"Impossible, but we did it. Eywa willed it Herself. Y/N deserves to be one of The People."

"Lo'ak," Jake calls, and from just outside the mauri, Neteyam's brother enters. It's the first time I've laid eyes on him, though Neteyam has spoken of him often. Neteyam is all Neytiri, but Lo'ak is practically a carbon copy of his father.

"Take Y/N outside, we need to talk," Jake says, and I look to Neteyam with wide eyes.

He reaches out, taking my face into his hand, running his thumb over my cheek. "It'll be okay," he says, and I nod.

As I leave, I can't help but think, for the thousandth time, that I confessed my love for him, and he hasn't said a word about it since.

--

Lo'ak is clearly unsure what to do with me as we leave, so I recommend sitting on the beach. I haven't enjoyed the beach without a blindfold, and it seems like a relaxing thing to do.

Lo'ak agrees, and leads me through a mess of mauri pods down to the water. I plop myself down, digging my toes into the wet sand, and sigh.

"It's nice to meet you, Lo'ak," I say, trying not to sound too formal, as he sits beside me.

"You too. I knew my brother was sneaking you out, but he never let me join."

It's such a younger brother thing to say, and I have to smile. "He was really nice to me, and he didn't have to be."

"We were all surprised, when we found out. Neteyam always does whatever mom and dad say. He's like, the perfect son."

My smile grows wider. "I think he probably still is."

Lo'ak rolls his eyes, and then I see how alike he and his older brother look.

"Probably. If I'd done this, I'd be skinned alive right now."

For the first time that day, I allow myself to truly laugh.

--

Neteyam joins us on the beach what feels like hours later, and Lo'ak beasts a hasty retreat after clapping his brother on the back.

I grasp the hand that Neteyam extends to me, and stand to look at him, brushing the sand off my thighs.

"Well?" I demand.

"That was rough. They're pretty mad about what we did but, they admitted they didn't really have much of a reason to be, besides me risking myself by going back to the Tree of Souls. They can't argue with Eywa, really. She wouldn't have done this for us if it didn't benefit the balance of life. You're meant to be one of us. My mom isn't happy about it, and my dad doesn't really get it but... you're not going to get any trouble from them. It doesn't mean they like you, especially my mom, but, she'll come around eventually."

I had been holding tension in every single muscle in my body, and at this news, everything relaxes all at once.

It feels as if a war is over. I get to stay in this body, and I get to stay with Neteyam. A wave of euphoria washes over me, and I close my eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears away.

"That's good news," I whisper.

"They especially couldn't argue when I, um, told them that I'm in love with you, and intend to make you my mate."

Mate.

That means wife, to him. And they don't have divorce here on Pandora.

My eyes open in a flash. "You do?"

"If you'll have me," he says, with a shrug and a very small smile. He seems more nervous now than he did earlier, facing his warrior-goddess mother.

In my entire life, I have never known stability. I have never been truly loved, cared for, or had anyone that I could trust. No one has ever tried to put in the effort to gain my trust, and certainly not my love.

Neteyam and I met as guard and prisoner. I was a threat to his family, and to his entire way of life, and still he went out of his way to take care of me. He risked everything for me.

No one has ever shown me that level of commitment - except the marine corps, who wanted my life in return.

Neteyam wants nothing in return. Neteyam loves me, and I know he will take care of me every day for the rest of our lives.

So the commitment isn't scary. It's welcome. It's a relief. It's a warm hug after coming in from the cold. It's everything I have ever needed and didn't think I'd ever be fortunate enough to receive.

The tears are falling freely now, and Neteyam reaches up to try and wipe them away, but they won't stop.

"I love you, Neteyam Sully. I never want to be away from you, not a single day, for the rest of my life." I can barely get the words out through sobs.

He reaches out, pulling me into his arms, hugging me so tightly it almost hurts.

"I will take care of you," he whispers in my ear, "the way you deserve. I promise you this."

With no doubts, I believe him. I will do whatever it takes to keep my mate safe, and I know he will too.

Tag List: @nhloversblog @itsemy01 @eringaitskill

[deuteragonists-mismatched-socks]

A Break In Routine - Shane x Reader (Stardew Valley)

Another Shane SDV fic from my drafts with a couple strange gaps in it.

Warnings: mentions of recovering from alcoholism, being imperfect, guilt and self-loathing to a certain extent. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1.4k

Shane wasn't stupid. He knew you knew that. He noticed that, the closer you got, especially after that night on the cliff, you changed. Not so much in the way you dealt with him—you were kind and persevering as ever.

You stopped brewing. He had been out to the farm before, you had like ten kegs and an evergreen crop of hops and wheat to fuel them. And Shane wasn't stupid—he'd almost gone broke from buying the stuff before, so he knew it was lucrative. You'd have to be crazy to give that up. Farmers had it rough, especially ones that worked as hard as you. Having such an easy source of passive income should've been a no-brainer.

Oh, and you stopped bringing him alcohol. You were a social drinker—he'd seen you share Kahlua-and-coffee martinis with the good doctor or bond with Leah over a sweet red. But when it came to Pam and him, you were only ever seen with soda and some filling food in hand. He wondered if you thought he wouldn't notice. If he was too out of it or too naïve.

You visited JojaMart sometimes—normally just to check on him, never to buy anything—and you always had a tense look on your face whenever he was stocking the drinks section. That, that one actually hurt. Yeah, he had bad habits. He was working, only half successfully, on breaking them. But that made him think you really thought he had no self-control. That he was going to wander forward like a zombie and mindlessly rip into the Jack Daniels and Bud Lite. He shouldn't be trusted super far, but he thought he at least deserved the sliver of faith that would be required to believe that wouldn't happen.

That was what he was thinking about as he sat next to the fireplace, cola in a stein in his hand. See, he was doing better. He wasn't used to being fully lucid at this hour of the night, but he was getting there. It was significantly more uncomfortable, sitting there in silence when he wasn't half-catatonic. Everyone else was having a great time. Even Marnie was having a... whoa, beyond friendly conversation with the mayor. Hell, where were you, anyway? You were always trying so hard to make sure he wasn't alone, and now you leave him alone? Maybe he deserved it for all those times he blew you off.

"Hey!" You suddenly appeared in his line of vision. Suddenly, even completely sober, he couldn't sort out his feelings. He was grateful to you for watching out for him; he obviously couldn't do that himself. He was annoyed that you infantilized him. He was confused that you put up with him. Why didn't you just cut loose and stop holding yourself back for someone who has done nothing but screwed over their own life?

"What are you doing here?" Shane said. Crap. That wasn't what he meant to say, not at all. He meant to say 'Why do you stay? Why do you care? I'm not worthy of you.'

Your face fell and Shane needed a drink or six. "Trying to hang out with you," you responded, your voice edged with anger and sadness. "I was—y'know what, I'll leave you be, I just wanted to give this to you."

You held your closed hand out expectantly, and he obliged with an extended palm. 

You dropped a pearl into it.

"Wha—" his mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Oh, wow, Farmer, how did you know this is my favorite?"

You were already gone. He checked the clock on the opposite wall. Well, it was already 12. Maybe you just wanted to get a good night's sleep. He hoped that was all.

But Shane wasn't stupid.

When you exited your house at 6:10 AM sharp the next morning, you almost tripped over him before noticing that Shane was sitting on your steps. This was a huge break in his routine, and it worried you. "Shane? What're you—" You stopped yourself, realizing that you were parroting his words from the previous night. 

"I didn't mean what I said," Shane said abruptly. His murky brown eyes looked into yours with absolute earnesty, and you noticed something rather special about them. They weren't teary or red-striped. He wasn't hungover, at all. 

Your brow furrowed. "About what?"

"About—about... just, how I treat you, y'know. Always blowing you off and acting like you're not worth my time. I know it should be the other way around," his gaze dropped to the ground and he scuffed his foot against the wood of the front steps.

You lowered yourself to sit next to him, knees nearly touching. Time always seemed to stand still when you spoke to him—the sun was stuck in the sky, and you weren't worried about what you were going to get done that day.

"What do you mean, Shane?"

"You know what I mean, Farmer," he said, before exhaling and rubbing his hands on his pants. "I just... I'm not... good enough, for you. I'm a, uh, flash in the pan, I guess. What I'm trying to say... is I'm sorry," he sighed, risking looking up at you again.

Your eyes seemed to look through him. "Shane," you said gently. "You're good enough, for me, for anyone," you emphasized. "And I... do understand why you say the things you do, and they are unfortunate, but I appreciate you recognizing that and apologizing."

Shane looked from your piercing eyes, to your hand that was resting on your knee, centimeters from his, back to your eyes. "I'm trying. Really trying."

You took his hand, and his heart rate spiked. "I know you are, and I know that Marnie and Jas and I really appreciate it."

"Yeah," Shane whispered. Part of him felt guilty—that somehow, Jas wasn't enough to straighten him out. But he was grateful that somehow, you were.

Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand,  comforting him further. He wondered how you could stand touching him. Even after that touching speech, he had a hard time believing you. Even if his personality, his character, was something you seemed to admire, which was beyond him on its own, look at him. He had gained... a number of pounds in the past eight months, he shaved maybe every three days, despite getting a five o'clock shadow by the end of that day. His hair was a genuine disaster, even though Marnie refused to admit it. He was physically clean (most of the time), and that was basically where the pros stopped.

"Thank you so much for coming over here this morning, Shane," you said. Shane had to suppress a shiver at the way you said his name. It didn't sound the way anyone else ever said it. Maybe it was just his imagination. 

But he was more than happy to keep imagining it. "I can't tell you... how much it means to me, that you're reaching out and, and trying. In the most non-patronizing way, I'm proud of you."

He could almost feel tears welling in his eyes. "You're—you're proud of me?"

He hadn't heard that since high school.

"Yeah, of course," you nodded genuinely.

He laughed, almost in disbelief. "Thanks."

You let go of his hand, and Shane had the chance to experience a split-second of disappointment before you used your now free arms to wrap him in a hug. "You can tell me if this is okay or not," you said, your words muffled by his Joja jacket.

"It's okay," he responded quickly, trying not to squeeze you too tightly.

You pulled back, wondering for a moment if it would be going too far, before you decided to press a quick kiss to his cheek. You stood, walking off to water your crops. "I should probably let you go, you don't wanna be late for work."

Shane's face was all pink, and he nodded after a moment's delay. "Right, yeah, um...thanks for listening to me," he stood as well. "See you later."

You watched him take the path from your house into town, zipping up his jacket against the wind. He had patched the holes in it.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Drive Safe Part 3

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: Our wild ride has come to an end 🥹😘

Synopsis: You confront your best friend for what she did to you behind your back all while trying to make sense of your future with Jack. The ultimate question is, are you willing to give your ex-husband another chance?

Pairing: Ex-husband!Jack Harlow x Ex-wife!Reader

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

After hearing Taylor confess what you had heard Jack tell Urban left you in a daze. So, he in fact was telling the truth, however your best friend or someone who you thought was your best friend went behind your back and betrayed you. Never did you think that in a million years that she would do something like this and try to play innocent and continue on with life as usual as if nothing happened.

“Y/N, I know you're pissed at me and for good reason and I know I shouldn't have done it and…”

You immediately cut her off.

“Let me ask you something. Did you honestly think that you could do that and ultimately get away with it? Yes, me and him have our issues but stepping out on one another because of a disagreement has never been a reality. No matter how mad at each other we are. Bottom line, you took advantage of him being in a vulnerable stage. Even if I am still very mad at him, I'm going to defend him when someone does him wrong. And in this case, you were in fact… wrong.”

“I…”

“I thought that at least you were one of the last people I could count on to have my back, but low and behold you wanted my man for yourself. Everyone has treated me like shit since this first happened and since obviously my feelings don't matter to you or anyone else, there's nothing left for me to say. We are done here and you can forget about being their godmother. Lose my number and do not call me again for as long as you live.”

“Wait, just….. we're throwing our friendship away over a mistake I made? I confessed and I apologized. I don't know what came over me to do that and deep down I knew it wasn't right. But I just….”

“A mistake you hid from me for damn near two years and it wasn't a mistake actually. I had my suspicions, but I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, thinking no, there's no way in the world that my best friend would do that to me. You were in your right mind and knew what you were doing. And to think I trusted you. I've told you things In confidence that I have never told anyone else and you just….I need to leave. And you can pick up the tab since you want to be kissing other people's husbands.”

“It’s never going to happen again, I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“You've already lost me as a friend from the moment you tried to kiss Jack. It's not going to happen again, because you are going to stay as far away as possible from us. Did you really think that I would forgive you for doing something like that to me? You broke my trust and that is not something that cannot be repaired overnight. Oh, and one last thing, I knew what you did for months now and was just simply waiting for you to confess.”

Taylor was sitting there absolutely stunned and unable to speak. And it looked as if her eyes were starting to water.

“Didn't think it was going to take this long, but here we are. I'm taking my food to go and have the day you deserve. And you can save your tears for someone who actually cares.”

Without another word, you slid back from the table and went to the front of the restaurant to let them know that you wanted your order to go and that Taylor would be paying for it. 

Once you got outside in your rental car, the tears started to roll down your face. You were proud of yourself, but also hurting. You felt that at this point, you didn't have anyone anymore and you simply wanted to go back home to Louisville or Atlanta rather and be away from it all. Because Atlanta was the only place where you felt that your life actually made sense. Louisville held too many memories for you and every single one of them had to do with Jack. 

You had gotten back to the beach house in record time and stared at your phone contemplating if you were going to call Jack or not to let him know that you had talked to Taylor. Making your way inside, you sat everything down in the kitchen before making your way upstairs to the bedroom since your desire to eat anything was now gone. You picked up your phone and then shook your head and placed it on the dresser before the tears started falling again.

If you knew the shitstorm that would happen when Jack asked for you to marry him, you probably would have never done it. But who were you kidding? You knew deep down that you still would have said yes despite what was going on around you at the present moment. Did you see yourself marrying him again? Only time would be able to tell. The most important thing that you needed to focus on right now was trying to heal. 

Jack played with his phone in his hands contemplating calling your older sister, Danielle, but had a strong feeling that she wouldn't want to hear anything that he had to say.

But he had to try.

He was willing to do absolutely anything to get you to forgive him and get him to marry him again. Even though you told him that marriage was definitely off the table, in the back of his mind and deep down he knew that if he wasn't able to get married to you again that he wouldn't get married again at all. You were the love of his life and he ruined it.

Before he backed out, he quickly hit her number to call her as his heart was damn near beating out of his chest.

And now he was hoping she didn't answer. 

But luck wasn't on his side and she did.

“Hello?”

“Dani, it's Jack.”

“I know. I have something called caller id on my iphone.”

“Umm….”

“What do you need?”

“Um, for your little sister to stop ignoring my calls and talk to me.”

All Dani did was scoff before responding.

“And you think that you deserve to talk to her after what you did?” Dani asked and now Jack was starting to regret ever picking up the phone to call her.

“Dani, she's pregnant.”

“I am aware. I was there when she took the test. What's your point?”

“Dani, please. I just want her to talk to me so she can hopefully forgive me and we can get back together.”

“Jack, I told you to do one thing when it came to her. ONE. Do you remember what that was?”

“Take care of her.”

“Hmm, and did you do like I asked?”

“Well…”

“No. You didn't. Instead you hurt my baby girl and quite frankly, I’m surprised she stayed with you as long as she did. That girl LOVES you and would do anything for you, but instead you let your little fame get to your head. As much as she would call me crying all times of the night over you, you honestly think you deserve to be in a relationship with her again?”

“I know I've messed up and that I've hurt her, but all I want to do is make it right. I don't want anyone else or be married to anyone else. I didn't even want to sign the divorce papers!”

All Dani did was sigh before responding.

“You better listen to me and listen to me good. I will do what I can, but it is ultimately her decision. If she gets back with you, fine. I'll support it. If she doesn't, I'm also going to support it. But one thing I'm not going to tolerate is you disrespecting her. That is the mother of three of your big headed children so give her the respect she deserves. She's in Miami and I'm going to check on her so I'll do my best to see if she’ll talk to you. No promises.”

“That's literally all I ask.”

“But if she says no, unless it has to do with your unborn children, you better leave her the fuck alone.”

Not realizing that you fell asleep after confronting Taylor, you woke up to see that it was dark outside and had no clue what time it was. Grabbing your phone and wincing from the light as you put your password in, you saw that it was around nine at night.

Sighing to yourself, you threw the comforter away from your body to make your way downstairs to come face to face with your older sister who was currently sitting in the living room and scrolling away on her phone. 

Hearing your footsteps come up behind her, she quickly greeted you.

“Lil Bit, I thought you were going to sleep until next week.”

“Uh? What are you doing here?” You sleepily asked as you rubbed your eyes.

“Don't you think I know when you need me?”

“I'm fine.”

“Are you?” She asked as you came to sit across from her.

You wanted to say yes, that you were indeed in fact fine, but the words just weren't coming out. Instead, something else did.

“I miss him and I HATE myself for feeling like this.” You breathed out while wrapping your arms around yourself.

“It's not like it was a one night stand. You two were MARRIED. And have known each other since you two were fourteen. That doesn't go away overnight. There's going to be ups and downs with healing from that. It isn't linear.”

“But I'm just so MAD at him for what he did. No matter how much he tries to take it back and apologize, what's done is done. And that song felt like a legit slap to the face.”

“He's not perfect, but neither are you. He definitely could have gone about it a different way, but what's done is done and the only thing you can do is move forward from it.”

“He called you, didn't he?” You asked as you were eyeing Dani.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“DANIELLE….”

“He did and in not so many words, begged for me to convince you to talk to him and to stop ignoring his calls.”

“And? What did you tell him?”

“After I threatened him, I said that I would try to convince you, but no promises. He has a show in Miami in two days so I figured you two can talk then. If you want to, that is.”

“I don't know If I want to.” You answered being completely honest. 

“You said you missed him.”

“I miss a lot of things, but I've learned to adjust.”

“You aren't adjusting. You're avoiding it.”

“I don't remember asking for a therapy session.”

“Look, I get that you're hurting and want to take some time for yourself, but you cannot keep this bottled up because you are legit going to explode.” 

“What are people going to say if I take him back?”

“Who gives a flying fuck? That's your business and no one else's. Two people would be in that relationship and not the entire world.”

“But he legit disrespected me multiple times.” 

“Y/N, if you are looking for me to tell you what to do, it’s not going to happen. In the end, this has to be a decision that you have to live with. No one else. Just know that whatever you decide, I will support you 100%.”

Before you answered her, you simply sighed.

“What venue is he performing at on Saturday?”

—-

Saturday finally rolled around and you had been on edge for the entire day. The time for you to leave was inching closer and closer and you were seriously about to back out of it altogether. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself a once over in the floor length mirror at your black dress that you were wearing along with a pair of your Steve Madden sandals and was satisfied with how the outfit came together. You had straightened your hair earlier in the day, so the only thing left to do was to confront him.

You had been confronting a lot of people lately and wanted for this to be the end of it.

Dani volunteered to go with you and the two of you rode in silence to the venue with her taking quick glances at you to see that you were scrolling on your phone from time to time. Once the two of you arrived and made your way inside, Jack was already on stage and Urban had quickly spotted the two of you.

“Hi Urby.” You said as he engulfed you in a bear hug.

“Hey, didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“I didn’t know either until two days ago.”

“He’ll be happy to see you. Come this way so I can take you two backstage so you can watch from the side.”

“Hmm, we’ll see if that still rings true after I talk to him.”

All Urban did was hold his hands up in defense before shrugging since he knew that you were just about at your wits end with everything that had been going on. 

You and Dani quickly followed behind Urban and since everyone recognized you, you were able to get backstage with no problem. But you also knew in the back of your mind that your so-called ex-best friends were probably there as well, right along with Neelam. And of course she had spotted you.

“Y/N?”

“The one and only unless there’s another one that I don’t know about?” You quickly said to her as Dani stifled a laugh.

“Can we…?” She started to say, but you immediately cut her off.

“No. I’m here for one person and one person only. If I wanted to talk to any of the rest of you, I would have told you. I’ll let you know when I’m ready whenever that time comes.”

“I.. fair enough. You both can come over here to watch him from the side.”

It took less than five minutes for Jack to spot you standing on the side and he got the biggest smile on his face and you simply gave him a tight lipped smile in return. You did your part of willing to open the lines of communication, but if it was something that you didn’t want to hear, you were immediately going to cut it off.

Once his set was over, he quickly jogged off the stage towards you and opened his arms for a hug which surprisingly you actually returned.

You had missed this feeling. 

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” You asked him and he quickly nodded as he led the two of you to his dressing room.

Once the door was closed, you let him have it. 

“Babe? Is everything okay? What are you doing here? And I mean that in the best way possible.”

“Don't call me that, Jackman. You lost the privilege to do so. But let’s just cut to the chase shall we? You called Dani to get me to talk to you so here I am. Now onto my most pressing question, why didn't you tell me what Taylor did?” 

Jack, obviously taken aback, cleared his throat before answering you. And all he did was rock back and forth on his heels before sighing.

“Because I didn't think you would believe me if I had told you when it originally happened.”

“But not to say anything at all? You were supposed to protect me, we're supposed to protect each other! I had the fakest person under my nose for the longest and you said NOTHING.”

“I…. I didn't know what to do. You already didn't want to be bothered with me and I didn't want to create an even bigger mess. Wait, she told you?”

“Yes and kept asking me before she did if you had said something to me first.”

“I'm sorry, and I know that I should have. I would never cheat on you no matter how mad I might be. You mean too much to me for me to do that.”

“Hmm, your actions lately say otherwise. You hurt me with that shit you pulled and should have come and talked to me.”

“I know and I don't have an excuse for it. I just wish we could start over and just forget that any of this ever happened.”

“Do you honestly think that you deserve another chance?”

“Dani legit said the same thing.” He mumbled before taking a seat next to you and grabbing your left hand which was still decorated with your wedding ring. Except it wasn’t on your ring finger.

He began to play with it as he was waiting for you to say something.

“How do I know that something like this won’t ever happen again?” You asked and that was when he finally looked up at you.

“Because we’re going to communicate better and be honest with each other about how we’re feeling. That was my biggest downfall.”

“Hmm.”

“And I need to put you first. You were the one who was with me when I had absolutely nothing and I lost sight of that. Anytime I needed you, you were there but I didn’t give you that same treatment in return.”

“I want to believe you, I really do because I miss you, but… I just don’t know.”

“Y/N, please. Things are going to be different this time.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know if I’m at that point where I want to find out or not.” You answered being completely honest.

“Well, how long do you think that will take? You know I’m willing to wait. I legit do not want anyone else.”

“Only time will tell.” You shrugged while looking at him.

When he didn’t say anything else, you simply let go of his hand and began to get up.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I did what you asked and I came and heard what you had to say, did I not?”

“Yes, but…”

“And now I’m leaving.”

“Baby girl, just…”

“Just, what, Jack? Just what? You said your piece and I’ve said mine. When I’m ready to take you back, you’ll know.” 

“I love you and I want this. I want us.” He said as he grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

“Yes, you’ve made that very clear and you’ve done it more than once.”

“At least just spend the night with me, let me take you out.”

“Maybe some other time. I’m pretty tired. I am pregnant, the last time I checked.”

“Okay, I get that. Some other time then.”

Jack then stood up and gave you another long embrace as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

You then felt him cup your cheek and knew he wanted to kiss you. You wanted to kiss him too, but you definitely weren’t letting him back in that easily.

Instead of meeting his lips with yours, he met your cheek since you had turned your head and you heard him sigh.

“When I fully forgive you, you can give me as many kisses as your heart desires, but until then I need you to remember something for me.”

“What is it?

“Remember one thing, I'm not your girl.” You whispered against his lips before smirking and laughing to yourself as you made your way to the door of the dressing room.

“Drive Safe tonight, Jackman.” Was the last thing you said before you disappeared on the other side of the door leaving him absolutely speechless.

[fluidstatick]

I dunno, man. (game changer finale talk under the cut)

I love the chemistry of Brennan, Jess, Grant, Ally, Rekha, Katie, and Zac. An excellent spread of comedy styles, and they're all tight enough friends that they can strategize with (and against) each other easily. Ally, hiding behind Brennan, who is hiding behind Rekha, just in a different context -- Truly only this crew could pull off something like that. The Landlord and Granma Sweetie are such perfect distillations of Jess and Zac's energy.

Names aside, I thought Jack and Jackson were too similar. Katie and Grant were both trying to be the straight (lol) man in the building, and for me, that meant they cancelled each other out.

Adjustable Side Table Walnut was absolutely robbed. Rekha had pitch perfect banter with everyone (except Steven), did an excellent job figuring everyone else out, and didn't give any hints until it was time to boot Brennan. She absolutely should have won, on merit of playing the game thoroughly and hilariously.

As for the ratfish? Well.

Listen, I never watched Adult Swim. I only know Tim and Eric by name. I've never watched anything they've done. It was only last monday when I learned that this guy is Tim:

And this guy is Eric:

I literally thought that he was some sort of amateur astrophysics youtuber (?) and that gif was from some video he made about quantum mechanics, or string theory or something. I blame the turtleneck.

Anyway, I digress. Just from watching this, I don't find Eric Wareheim funny. According to a few posts I've seen in the dropout tags, though, his brand is mostly awkward anti-comedy anyway? Nothing wrong with that, it's just not my speed. It felt strange to go ive him so much power over the game. Sam was probably going for an impartial judge, someone who doesn't know the cast personally and can decide who their favorite is without the cast members themselves influencing their decision. That being said, there are so many different people Sam could've gone with. I still think it shoulda been Sam Reigel, cosplaying as Sam Reich. "Look at me. I'm the Sam now! I've been present for the duration!" Could've been any number of LA based comedians, really.

Eric's choices felt completely left field. Ally started strong with their BLeeM gambit, sure, but I really think Adjustable Side Table Walnut deserved more shine. Katie winning solely for the art piece felt anticlimactic, especially because the painting felt like a Katie piece, not a Jack Stryker piece.

The cast not getting to meet Eric felt unfair, too, unless for some reason he had to leave before the final table was assembled and shot.

The cackle at the end didn't feel like a cliffhanger so much as a taunt. We get it, Samuel Dalton, you're still out here wrecking shop and our frantic theorizing on discord and reddit is all for naught.

anyway tl;dr - Ratfish 🫤. Justice For Side Table Walnut! MeDeCine.

[fiapartridge]

self control | jack hughes

"take down some summer time / give up, just tonight..."

jack hughes x reader

summary: when your first night swim of the summer is interrupted by the one hughes you can't stand, you wonder if your self control is strong enough to not give in...

warning(s): smoking, swearing, sexual innuendos, grinding?? LMAO

i hate this, but it's also the only imagine i've managed to finish in the past week so here ya go 🤷‍♀️

Summers at the Hughes family’s lake house accounted for 99% of your most favorite memories. You would run around the house with Luke when you were younger, pretending to be pirates or deep-sea monsters, and when you got older, you would bake with Ellen, play cards with Quinn, or even judge the boys’ highlights with Jim. 

But you never hung out with Jack.

He was more reserved than anyone else, and even in the 12 years of knowing him, he never warmed up to you. You didn’t know what you did to deserve this treatment: him switching topics whenever you would enter the room, never sparing a glance at you, saying ‘her’ instead of your actual name– sometimes, he wouldn’t even have the decency to say ‘her’, but instead just nod his head in your direction. At some point in the 12 years, you made peace with the fact that he didn’t like you. If he didn’t want to be friends with you, you didn’t want to be friends with him.

Though Luke would always push you guys to talk — you were his best friend and Jack was his brother. He desperately wanted his favorite people in the world to get along — but it would always end up with Jack or you leaving the room upon seeing each other, or one (or both) of you muttering a snide remark at the other, consequently making both of you leave the room at the same time. 

Everyone just had to accept it: you and Jack are never going to be friends, like ever. 

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Jack emerged from the back door of the patio as you bobbed your head out of the water, only 10 minutes into your first night swim of the summer. You were confused, to say the least. Everyone knew you swam at night— Jack knew you swam at night, so why was he here, sitting down at the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the clear blue water as he watched you swim laps around the pool.

You felt his eyes on you. You were wondering if they were judging you, or simply watching, observing. Maybe he was finding another thing to insult you with, or maybe he was trying to come up with ways to fix your form, to make him feel better than you, which was something you felt like he did often. 

Tired of his stares, you turned around, treading water as you met his gaze, silently acknowledging his presence. You thought he was going to say something, make fun of you maybe, but he said nothing. He simply reached beside him, pulled out a cigarette from a pack of 24, lit it, and blew smoke.

You scoffed, losing eye contact with him. “What are you doing?”

He took a drag before holding it in between his index and middle finger. Inspecting the dart, he said, “What do you think I’m doing?”

You shook your head. “Ruining my night.”

“You talked to me first, princess.”

Princess. God, that made your blood boil. He was so entitled, you wondered if he actually called girls that. Did they eat it up? Did they hold onto his hand, and follow him to his bed? Did they get butterflies from that belittling line? 

You held pity for them, you really did. They didn’t know him enough to know any better— not like you did. You knew Jack brought girls home every night, sometimes even two if it was after a really good win. The summer, though, he claimed he didn’t have time for girls; that he was too busy spending time with his friends and family to have a one-nighter with a girl whose name he won’t even remember by the time the sun comes up. But everyone knew what it was— what it really was.

Jack was in love with you, and you had no clue. It’s funny how you can call people oblivious to love when you can’t even see it yourself. 

But everyone else knew. Hell, they knew for the past 12 years. They could see it in the way you two talked to each other, or the lack thereof. When you two talked to each other, it was like the sparks before starting up a campfire, but it was when you two didn’t talk, when you would just look at each other across the room, that brought the entire world to flames. Because there could be a million people in front of you, but you’re only looking at one pair of green eyes. 

That was the magic of it all. You could hate each other all you wanted, but who’s eyes are you meeting at the end of the day?

Scoffing, you said, “You’re so fucking irritating, you know that?”

“Could say the same thing about you.” He sounded disinterested, and that made you want to scream. 

You shook your head. “Fucking unbelievable,” you muttered. “You know, I don’t even know why you hate me,” you said, raising your voice. “What did I ever do to you?”

He didn’t say anything. He just took another drag, ignoring you. 

Pissed off, you kicked off the wall and swam towards him by the edge of the pool.

You were close to him— so close.

You took the cigarette from his fingers, holding it centimeters away from his lips. The blue glow from the lights installed to the floor of the pool illuminated the scene and you wondered if it was just you feeling all weird and tingly, like you didn’t entirely hate this. 

You whispered faintly. “Smoking’s bad for you.”

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, your chest moved up and down, and he could see you bite down the corner of your bottom lip. Jack couldn’t help himself. 

He was weak for you.

Grabbing the dart from your hands and throwing it behind him, Jack slid into the pool, grabbed your hips, pulled you closer to him, and brushed his lips over yours. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he murmured.

You shut your eyes, breathing in the situation. You were scared. Sure, it was a simple kiss, but all of those girls that he’s brought home before? Were you just gonna be another tally on his board? But then you remember: this is Jack. This is the same boy you watched pee his pants from laughter when he was 10, the same boy you saw holding his mom’s hand merely two days ago. This was Jack you were talking about. Sure, you weren’t great friends. You weren’t even friends. But you knew him. You knew he cared about you because Luke cared about you. Because his mom, and his dad, and his older brother cared about you. To him, you were everything.

To him, you were 12 years in the making.

“Don’t stop.” 

You pressed your lips against his and he immediately kissed back. Open-mouthed kisses, hand-holding-the back-of-your-head kisses, pulling-your- hips-closer-as-if-that-was-even-possible kisses. You were engulfed in Jack Hughes, and you weren’t so sure if that was a bad thing, or not. 

He migrated two steps to the left, sitting down on the steps leading down to the pool, grabbing your hips and sitting you down on his lap. This moment was something straight out of a movie scene, like you were waiting for someone to yell “cut!”, or to tap you on the shoulder and tell you that this wasn’t real. 

But when you felt his tongue break the barrier, the slight whispers of your name, and his hand moving up and down the small of your back, you knew this was real. You were kissing Jack Hughes, and you really liked it. 

But then you remembered: you were kissing Jack Hughes. You never made things easy for him, and you weren’t starting now.

“Is that all you got?” you murmured breathlessly. 

He smirked. “I’m not even sweating yet.” 

When Jack connected his lips with yours once again, he rolled your hips against his, creating friction between the two of you, and oh, it felt good. 

“Don’t think,” God, this felt amazing. “This means I like you,” you breathed against his lips.

It meant exactly that, actually.

He laughed before pulling away from your lips. He bent his head down and pressed his lips against your neck. Your head lulled back slightly because, fuck, he’s good at this. Between kisses he said, “I won’t stop until you admit it.”

“We’ll be here forever then.”

“I’m okay with that,” he smirked before diving back into your neck, sucking and nipping at the exposed skin, not even caring that this was definitely going to leave marks. 

It only took seconds later before you were admitting to Jack that you liked him. Jack stayed true to his words and stopped. Well, he stopped kissing your neck. But when his hands trailed down to the ties behind your back, pulling the strings to completely discard your bikini top, which was now floating over the water a few feet away from you, you both knew you weren’t stopping any time soon.

And you were more than okay with that.

[webslingingslasher]

the way i just hurt my own feelings thinking about frat!peter and trouble during their break and her overhearing this girl say she’s been fucking around with him and thinks he’s going to ask her to be his girlfriend (it’s a lie or maybe she’s talking about some other guy named peter?)

but it kinda matches up with when frat!peter and trouble break up and she gets in her head thinking he just didn’t want her :(

puuur okay- this is close to something that will happen in the actual fic but i can't let this SIT HERE AND COLLECT DUST!!!!!

you hadn't felt fury like this before. it was pure boiling rage, it was enough to actually make you break your no contact rule with peter and go straight to the frat house.

banging on the door, peeved you'd given him your key back. if there was one time you needed to get in and catch him by surprise it's now.

when you were met with silence you pound again, the door swinging open before you could break a hole through it.

'jesus christ what do- trouble?'

you blink at ethan, then feel rage, he said he'd always be your friend. friends don't let other friends find out their kind of ex that couldn't commit, committed to someone that wasn't you.

'fuck you, ethan. you're a shitbag, just like that prick upstairs.'

his eyes went wide, shaking his head out when you shoulder check him stomping through the front door. before you could start the decent to peter's room, ethan held you back.

'hey, woah, what's going on?'

'i suggest you leave me alone and mind your own god damn business.'

ethan's left like a guppy watching you take each step with force, your body radiating an energy he wanted nothing to do with. he tried being nice, but fuck that, peter can handle that on his own.

----

you threw peter's door open, you would've knocked, but he didn't deserve your respect because he didn't respect you.

it's been weeks since you've been in the house, let alone his room. peter thinks he's hallucinating for a minute.

'do you know how fucking livid i am right now, peter? i am so god damn irate that i broke all my rules about never fucking speaking to you again, just so i could look you in the eye and tell you that i absolutely loathe you and i hope you get all sorts of cheated on.'

'woah, okay. i think-'

'no! you don't get to think! actually- no, i want you to think about this! i want you to think about how fucked up you are, and how you lead me on for jack shit!'

peter stands slowly, his hands raised in peace.

'i know you're mad at me, but you're saying some very hurtful things.'

it makes you boil.

'i don't care! because you know what's hurtful, what's really, really hurtful?' you didn't realize you were slowly walking to him until you were inches from his face.

'the fact you couldn't be my boyfriend but you can be someone else's. if you want to sit there and play the 'emotionally immature' card, that's your decision. but you don't get to say that and date someone else three weeks later.'

you poked his chest, 'that makes you a liar. and a dick. and unfair. and... it makes me hate you.'

peter carefully removes your hand, you have to look away. you've been nothing but vicious and he's delicate. his touch feels like love, it's unfair, you pull your hand and turn away from him.

'trouble...' he doesn't add more. instead you're held against him, you hate how warm he still feels, the sense of protection unfading. you fight against it, it's useless, he holds you tighter.

'i'm not dating anyone, okay? i'm not talking to anyone, i'm not fucking anyone, i'm not doing any of that with someone that isn't you, okay?'

'she said peter.'

'i'm sure she did, but she wasn't talking about me. i'm not dating anyone and i'm not looking to.'

peter's trying to comfort you but he said the wrong thing, you shove him away and sniff.

'thanks for the reminder.' you stomp towards his door.

'trouble,' you stop him, you don't need him thinking this is something else.

'this wasn't about residual feelings or wanting to get back together. this was about blatant disrespect.'

'you-'

'i still hate you, and i'm never talking to you again.'

peter's voice is quiet when you leave, 'oh- okay. get home safe.'

it shouldn't hurt as bad as it does when you leave.