#I NEED TO SEE THIS ONCE AGAIN IN MY LIFE!!

[cthulhus-curse]

The Lion & The Lamb

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,229

Warnings: Fuckboy!Wanda, Breeding, Collars, Daddy Kink, Eventual Fluff, Face Slapping, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Leashes, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: After a chance encounter with your first girlfriend, Wanda feels the need to stake claim over what is rightfully hers.

“So, I was thinking we could go see a movie after finals.”

There was a hopeful tone in your voice as you spoke. It was, as always, seemingly ignored. Normally you’d appear crestfallen, but after having spent months in such a manner, you simply shrugged.

“Oh, uh, sure,” came the bored reply. “Whatever you want, babe.”

“Maybe I could even go to one of your soccer games?” you asked, knowing what the answer would entail.

“If you’d like to, sure.”

You sighed before focusing on your food once again. It was partly your fault, you admitted. Towards the start of your junior year at university, you had gotten involved with your roommate who you spent the first two years crushing over. While it was not an ideal situation that you were in, only being able to involve yourself in sexual endeavors with the woman, it was more than you would have hoped.

Wanda was known to never fully commit. You were sure she had slept with most, if not all, of her soccer team at one point. She could do what she wanted and the two of you had been clear as to what your relationship entailed, but you couldn’t help the hint of jealousy that came out at the thought of others being so close with your friend.

She only eyed her phone as you studied her – the way in which she wore her snapback backwards, her shirt with the sleeves rolled up past her shoulders, which showed off her toned, muscular arms, and gray sweats along with Vans shoes made you drool. The two of you had chosen to spend time before finals, the calm before the storm, stuffing your faces at a local restaurant – you remembered it was Wanda’s favorite, but she did not even notice. It filled you with disdain to know she could hold you in her arms and make you feel the greatest pleasures in life, but not even bat an eye when it came to a more interpersonal relationship, whether platonic or not.

As you bit your bottom lip as a means to keep yourself grounded, the waitress finally came to your table.

“Hi! My name is Natasha and I will be taking care of you two ladies today. Can I get you guys started with any drinks?” came a voice that you recognized so well.

Turning around, your eyes widened. You were met with a sight you had not seen in years. There stood a redhead with a notepad, smiling at Wanda before turning to you. In a manner that made your heart soar, she only beamed wider when noticing your appearance.

“Y/N?” she questioned with bewilderment. “It’s been so long!”

“Hey, Nat,” you greeted while sitting up straight. “Holy shit, it’s been years! How are you? Nice haircut by the way.”

“Thank you! I’m alright though, just working my way through life until I save up enough to move to California,” Natasha chuckled – you vividly remembered how, during the time in which the two of you had been together, she always dreamed of escaping the cold claws of the east coast and moving to a much warmer atmosphere. “And how are you? You look amazing, detka.”

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed how Wanda visibly tensed at the pet name. She would call you that from time to time while writhing on top of you. Nobody had ever referred to you in that manner from her knowledge. If anything, she never appeared interested in knowing about your past relationships or really anything to do with your personal life.

“I’m doing well. I got finals in a few weeks and I am trying to treat myself before potentially getting a brain aneurysm from all the studying.”

The two of you shared a laugh. It felt as if no time had passed since you were high school students kissing under the bleachers of the football field, away from prying eyes. Natasha had been your first love; it nearly broke your heart when your relationship only turned to shambles as you went off to college and she remained in the work-force. It was not the same when you couldn’t see one another at all times. Still, you found yourself missing her while staring into deep green eyes that never failed to hypnotize you – in that moment, it felt as though there was nobody else but the two of you, although the gnawing image of Wanda still appeared in your brain.

“I’m Wanda, by the way,” came the dirty blonde’s voice through gritted teeth from the other side of the table. “Nice to meet you.”

You recognized the condescending look which she threw at Natasha, one that was typically reserved for the idiotic professors who she almost always clashed with. There was a hesitant wave thrown your ex’s way – a bit too much if you said so yourself.

“Oh, likewise,” Natasha simply replied before turning back to you. “Are you two…?”

“Nope. We’re just friends and roommates,” you quoted Wanda’s words whenever someone asked the same question.

It was strange to watch Wanda’s behavior. You swore her fingernails dug into the table as she kept herself from commenting. Her mouth formed a straight line as she practically stared daggers at Natasha.

“Y/N and I used to date back in high school,” Natasha commented as she let her eyes gaze over Wanda before returning them to you. “Here, I’ll give you my number. We really should catch up and go for a coffee or something. I’d like to know more about how you’re doing.”

After she was finished scribbling away in her notepad, Natasha tore the piece of paper and handed it to you. There was a heart beside the ten digits which warmed your own. You assumed that if Wanda wanted nothing to do with you, perhaps the previous love between you and your ex could be lit up once again.

With a satisfied smirk, Natasha spoke again.

“Now, what can I get you for drinks?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

The remainder of lunch had been spent in a wave of awkward silence between you and Wanda. She only questioned you about Natasha twice, asking how long the two of you had been together and what your feelings for her were currently – all you did was respond with ‘I don’t know’ to the latter.

Once you were done and ready to split the food, Wanda stopped you. She paid for everything, even if it was rather expensive given the status of the restaurant. The sly smirk along with the head tilt she gave Natasha as she came over to pick up the check became ingrained in your brain.

There was even more silence that followed on your way to your shared dorm. It surprised you to feel Wanda’s hand over your own suddenly. She held it tight as the two of you walked around town en route to the campus. Rather than take notice of your questioning gaze, the woman simply held her head up and carried on.

When you had finally arrived at your dorm, ignoring the questioning gazes from the others who noticed your interlaced hands, Wanda urged you inside. She locked the door behind her, taking off her snap-back before throwing it to the side not caring where it landed.

“Take off your clothes, baby,” Wanda ordered softly. “Go get your collar and leash, okay?”

You recognized that exhausted tone, only did not know where it had stemmed from. Still, you were not about to question Wanda’s actions. Even if the dorm room was small, you still made your way to your side while simultaneously tugging at your shirt, all while searching for the required items.

From behind, you failed to notice Wanda mirroring your actions. She carefully pulled at her clothes, letting them fall over the floor before her bed, which she kneeled by. Her hands went under it, dragging a box that lay beneath out of the dark. When opening it, she smiled – once and for all, Wanda would let herself own only you and nobody else.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said with slight giddiness, smiling at the way the pink faux-leather collar squeezed your neck while the similarly-colored leash fell down your body.

“Crawl to me, Y/N,” Wanda said. “Come here.”

When you got down on your hands and knees, you took in her appearance. She was sitting over the edge of her bed still yanking at the harness over her hips with a dildo standing proudly. You could tell it was the special one she only used several times on you, causing your heart to nearly skip a beat. As you took in the naked beauty who then went to pull her hair into a messy bun, you were frozen in place.

“Don’t make daddy repeat herself,” she announced with a much more dangerous tone. “I need my obedient girl today.”

Before you began moving, you nodded. There was no hesitation that came out as you crawled towards your roommate, a serious look over your face as you attempted to study her. She was clearly upset. That along with her silent hostility towards Natasha at the restaurant made you wonder if she was truly jealous as you suspected.

“You know you’re mine, right?” Wanda asked, her voice seemingly small as you kneeled before you. “You can answer, angel.”

“I know, daddy.”

A hand went to your cheek, softly cupping it. Wanda let her thumb graze around your flushed skin, smiling as you shyly attempted to hide yourself. As much as you loved the unabashed roughness she tended to show at times, such tender acts filled you with joy.

Wanda tugged at the leash, forcing you towards her as she took your lips with her own in a searing kiss. It was rough, somehow different from any other she had planted over your mouth. Ever since having seen Natasha, her emotions had been heightened.

“You’re daddy’s pretty toy. I don’t want anyone else to have you, ever,” she explained as she took small breaks from your making-out session. “And I never want anyone else. I just…I need you.”

“I’m here, daddy,” you replied. There were tears nearly forming at the words she spoke. Even if you were unsure whether she meant them or not, they made your heart swell. All you ever wanted since first meeting Wanda was to be hers – her only toy. “Tell me what I can do to please you.”

One last kiss was placed over your mouth, firmly planted as Wanda lingered there for a few seconds. She let your foreheads pressed together while listening to your mirrored ragged breaths. Never had you been through such intimacy with her.

“Come lay down, princess. Let me use you for a bit,” Wanda announced as she leaned back. She grabbed your hands and helped you up, smiling as you carefully went towards the bed. “Daddy’s going to fill you up with cum until you’re a crying mess okay? I need to make you mine and ruin you for anyone else.”

“Yes, daddy,” you giddily replied, beaming at the idea of potentially being Wanda’s.

Wanda shifted over the bed, her eyes roaming all over your body. She put her hands over your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart. At the sight of your already drenched cunt, she hummed approvingly.

She moved closer to you, letting the creamy dildo side against you. It was grabbed carefully as she did not want to set off the fake cum by squeezing hard. The tip swirled against your slit, garnering large amounts of your juices over it. While you were wet, it was not enough to keep you from being hurt by the roughness she wished to exert.

“Be right back,” Wanda uttered before moving away.

It felt like a lifetime went by before she came back from kneeling over the floor. In her wake, she carried a bottle of lubricant. When she finally settled between your legs once again, you felt at peace. Drops of the lube were squired over the silicone cock before Wanda’s free hand went to spread it across the length. It wasn’t until it glistened with the liquid that she threw the bottle to the other side of the bed.

Wanda gripped the dildo again before letting it touch your entrance. Rather than swirl it all across letting you grow used to such a feeling, she began easing herself in. There was slight caution to her movements only to be replaced quickly by her trademark self.

Her cock spread your pussy apart. Velvety walls moved to welcome the large toy before wrapping themselves around it. Even after having had it used on you various times throughout the semester, you still moaned loudly whenever Wanda filled you up.

“God, you’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows. She pushed her hips forth before you were able to reply, only yelping loudly instead. “If you wanted me to make you mine, all you had to do was ask. Not whore yourself out for someone else. So stupid.”

All you could do was lay there, taking each thrust with the utmost joy. A hand went to tug at your leash, bringing your face forth while simultaneously choking you. Wanda’s eyes were dark and similar in appearance to those which had begrudgingly stared at Natasha throughout lunch. With her face dangerously close, a free hand went to cup your cheek.

“Tell me who owns you,” Wanda roared. She brought her hand down over your cheek, slapping it with might as you hissed in return. Those little sounds never ceased to make her smile. “Who’s the only one that can fuck you this well? Who owns your pussy?”

“It’s you, daddy!” came your cry as she hit your face again, holding the leash steadily in order to keep you from squirming away. “You own every inch of me. I promise you I am nobody else’s.”

“That’s a good answer,” Wanda whispered. She gave you one last slap for good measure, only it was softer. “Now open your mouth.”

When you gave into temptation, Wanda soon hovered her mouth above your own. She spit at you, grunting as she drove the toy deeper into your cunt with force.

“You’re such a good whore, Y/N. Just look at how well you take daddy’s cock. Your pretty pussy is practically begging to be fucked, eh?”

You didn’t trust yourself speaking, so instead you were sure to nod with vigor. Your hips began grinding against the dildo in an attempt to get off quickly. With your arousal at its peak, it would not be long until you turned into a mess in Wanda’s arms.

With closed eyes, you held into Wanda for support. Your hands landed over her bare upper arms, squeezing them and groaning. She flexed them slightly, forcing you to open your orbs and stare at the sight before you. Her muscles were clearly visible — you always did love when she used all her strength to pick you up and throw you over the bed before ravaging you.

“Awww baby, you’re adorable,” Wanda laughed as she sat back. Still holding the leash, she brought her other hand down your body, letting it ghost over your lower stomach where a small bulge appeared whenever she pushed the dildo into your depths. “What a stupid cock whore you are. I bet Natasha couldn’t ever make you feel this way, eh, detka? You’re my loyal little bitch.”

“Mhm daddy,” you breathed as her fingers pressed against your body.

Wanda dug her cock as deep as she could, giggling at the much larger bulge shown. The palm of her hand held it down, making you scream out in a midst of immense pleasure.

“You’re close, aren’t you? You’ll soon be daddy’s breeding bitch.”

At that, you nodded with tears already forming in your eyes at your overwhelming arousal. Still pressing down on your body while simultaneously tugging at the leash, Wanda tilted her head. You were the most adorable toy she had seen — always ready to please her whenever and however she wished.

“Come for daddy, baby girl. All over my cock, okay?”

“Yes, daddy,” you murmured, letting your head fall back, enjoying how the collar choked you, as you fell apart.

Dismay took over your being as Wanda removed the toy from your pussy as you moaned through your orgasm. The leash had been left over your naked body as well which visibly made you pout. It was only made better as a hand went to keep your thighs open while the other squeezed the dildo with might.

It wasn’t long until a squirt of fake cum shot through your cunt, filling you up slowly. The white substance was thick as it quickly poured into you. Wanda always loved stuffing the toy with all the could as a means to please you further.

Once you were all nice and full, the woman’s cock slid back inside. It was held there frozen in place as you recovered from your orgasm, your chest still heaving up and down as your body shook.

“I’ll help get you cleaned up in a second, detka,” Wanda mumbled as she leaned down. She pressed her forehead against your own in a manner that was unheard of from such a self-proclaimed cold-hearted person. She sighed, closing her eyes before breathing in the stench of sex that filled the dorm. “You did so well. Thank you for always trusting me enough to touch you like this.”

“And thank you for always being so good to me,” you replied with a tired smile, frowning as Wanda only shook her head in retort.

“I just…I’m sorry. I’ve been really shitty ever since we started doing this. It’s just sex like we both agreed to and, yeah, you know it’s been going on with others for me, but I don’t want that anymore,” Wanda admitted with apparent embarrassment at having to showcase such emotions that were seemingly alien to her. “So, do you want to be my girlfriend? Like, actually I mean. I don’t want anyone else to be honest. Just you, Y/N.”

You remained silent, your eyes wide as you heard the words that spilled from your friend’s mouth. All which you had dreamed of ever since setting your eyes on the blonde woman was becoming reality.

“Fuck, I know I’m an idiot. I can’t expect you to say yes after I’ve spent all these years fucking around literally,” Wanda said with a mix of guilt and disgust at her behavior, especially since all she had ever wanted was you. “Seeing firsthand that someone else can potentially have you too makes my blood boil. You’re my detka, nobody else’s. You can take some time to think about it too. I want you to be o-”

You did not hesitate to squeeze her arms, groaning at their muscular appearance, before pulling her close. Lips interlocked for what you knew would be a core memory throughout your life. You held her close, afraid that if for a moment you were to let go, Wanda would be gone as soon as she came.

“I would love that so much,” you admitted when pulling away to grasp for air while leaving your foreheads touching. “I really want to be yours, Wanda. Always.”

[angelesca]

w.c. ~5k hooooly balllls | game system au! phainon x npc!gnreader, short stories, in da clerb, we all fam with the amphoreus cast, puppy phainon yippee, bantering with the game system, trying to avoid raising phainon's affection points but failing horribly💖reader has a lil' nickname ('moonlight'), goofy antics ofc ofc, finally some physical contact (it's a good day), written during ver.3.0! (forgive me for any poor characterisations!) [𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬]: 1 ┃ 2 ┃...

a/n: here i am again with another stupid idea (who is surprised). okay but the nymph emoticons lit a lightbulb in my head and BAM i gave birth a second child. drew inspo from [svsss], [orv], and [villains are destined to die]!

!!! disclaimer (read me) !!! in the game, there's no night in okhema city (as of writing this), but in this fic it happens! it's explained as best as my dumb brain could^^

“what… the… fudge.” you stare at the system pop-up, almost drooling from how long you’ve had your mouth open in disbelief.

marmoreal market. amphoreus’s civilians walk by you as if you are a passing breeze. in their sphere of natural time flowing, you are stuck with defective clockwork, unmoving in the present reality. what was once a screen of predictable code on your gaming device, is now alive. 

this must be a dream, an illusion drifting by in your head. it's that damn phone, isn't it? you need to stop staying up all night reading fanfic.

you shut your eyes.

…

… ping!

…?

groggily, you open your eyes. in front of you is the perpetrator:

[ヽ(o＾▽＾o) hi~]

angrily, you press the ‘x’ button and close it.

[ what's that for?! (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ ]

you mash your finger on the blue window repeatedly, poking the emoticon in the eye. “you did this to me, didn't you? you kidnapper!” your voice is brimming with fear, overflowing with confusion.

[ WHAAAAT?! (凸ಠ益ಠ)凸 just hear me out- ow! i’ll help you! and stop poking my eye already! yeowch! my nostril! ☆(＃××) ]

pausing, you take a deep breath. the gazes of alert onlookers are beginning to settle goosebumps on your skin. there’s not much that can be done for now, honestly, your best bet is to place some faith on this mysterious system. “... what do you want with me?” you whisper in the lowest volume your anger would allow.

[ hehe~ (o´▽`o) ] you don’t like that expression at all. [ it’s exactly as i’ve told you from the start: become the main character of the newest update in honkai star rail, amphoreus! ] (this is not an advertisement)

“nah.” unamused, you walk through the window which shatters dramatically.

[ (°ロ°) hah? ] 

you scoff. the troublesome titankin? unending side quests and puzzles? responsibilities? fighting a literal god? who the hell wants to do all that? clenching your fist, resolve reconstructs your confidence. and you definitely don't want to listen to an annoying emoticon who forced you here. “i… will live quietly as an npc!” don't let the system have their way!

[ HAAAaAH???! Σ(ﾟ口ﾟ;) ]

you find your 88th chest of the day. it's pretty much stealing yet no one bats an eye, do amphoreus civilians also happen to offer customary welcomes for robbers in their houses? at least you are adapting to the world quickly given your game knowledge.

[ surprised you haven't encountered any enemies this past month. usually, the mc has to do some fighting... ┐(￣ヘ￣;)┌ ] is what the system said. guess the npc life was made for you.

when you open your 88th chest, you immediately regret it. a purple void cleaves the air and a familiar character dives out. it emotes cheekily, swooping the chest like an eagle to prey. “teehee~ this is mine now!”

[ that’s bartholos the spirit thief. ( ° ∀ ° )ﾉﾞ] [ new achievement: 'meeting bartholos!' ]

bartholos, spirit thief. distasteful memories rewind their tape in your head. the anger you felt seeing this thief pop up, doing the tedious minigame... fury untethered, its primordial tides stirs the previously calm waters of your mind. [ -75 sanity... ]

“... you lil’ flappin’ shirthead. i will rip your throa buy you a lovely necklace and stew you cook you my favourite stew!” 

[ bartholos is confused! ]

“you fu***** bi** sh****** p******* **@^*)>{“£$^*!!!!!” [ OMG! the system can’t keep up with the filtering! ｏ(＞＜；)○ ] “*****pots clanging*****cats meowing*****???***more farting***??”

[ shots fired! it's extremely effective! ]

“o-o-okay! geez, take it… ” bartholos drops the chest, hands in the air. “damn, is it that serious?”

[ w-what kind of npc are you? ( : ౦ ‸ ౦ : ) ]

"what do you mean?" you pant, "that was totally npc-like." rule #1 in 'the npc survival handbook': gotta make a living somehow.

[ oh, there's an injured pers- don't just ignore them! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ ]

you had just passed by a dark alley, genuinely not having noticed someone laying there because of the night shadows. and not because you were stuffing your face with sagelore fruit. rolling your eyes, you say, "pay me (nom nom)."

[ huhu (μ_μ) you're so cruel... ]

you cock an eyebrow. "and who forced me here (muffle muffle)?"

[ new side quest: 'be a good person!' ] [ reward: 1500 credits ]

squinting, you read it over - the reward is quite hefty? rule #1 resounds in your head: 'gotta make a living somehow'. retracing your steps, you decide to investigate the shrouding darkness, fingers tracing along the walls.

[ take this! ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ ]

your foot catches onto a stray object. "huh?!" the ground slips beneath you and gravity is pulling you by the hand. fortunately, you land on top of something. a solid hand is placed on your lower back, having caught your fall.

analysing whatever it is, you recognise its familiarity: white hair, heroic armour, long cape... oh. oh. oh no. oh nonononono. [ oh yes (≖ ͜ʖ≖) ]

rule #2 in the 'npc survival handbook': do not get involved with the chrysos heirs. you gulp. "yo, i'm outta here-"

[ new mainline quest! complete the scenario to advance~ ]

"you littl-" [ violation of system rule #87: do not speak out of character ] "wha-"

[ please choose out of the following options]:

[ i love you! ]

[ let's arrange a marriage NEOW (charisma check) ]

[ if you and i were socks, we'd make a great pair! ]

your eyes could pop out of their socket. what is the system trying to do here? worst wingman in history! without meaning to, you choose the secret fourth option: silence. you awkwardly stare at each other. [ he is confused! ] [ hehe~ okay, i'll stop~ (o^ ^o) that was fun ]

"you shouldn't be here," a serrated voice, sawing into your ears, slices through the stiff silence.

[ 'ooc' turned on ] you feel your throat clear, recclaiming your words. "yes, i agree." you nod your head enthusiastically. "i should be home, cosy in bed." [ oh, come on (￢_￢) ]

"haven't you noticed it's night time?"

"uh," you crook your head up. "i did[n't]." now that he mentioned it, no one else was awake in ohkema city, as if in hiding.

"then please find somewhere safe," he pushes himself up with ripened strength. "it's dangerous to-" he winces. you back away, searching for the site of cause. blood is pooling on his abdomen.

you didn't expect him to be in such a state. how many enemies was he fighting off? glass fiddles in your pockets, reminding you of your spoils. hurriedly, you hand him a health potion that you definitely did not steal. then, painkillers, disinfectant, and so on.

he asks quizically, "how do you have so many things in your pockets?"

"don't worry about it." just videogame things innit. silently, you tend to his wounds though your effort is clumsy.

he looks up at you. his hand timidly ghosts along the road of your working arm, driving closer and closer, as if he's navigated it before. a familiarity that suggests crossed trajectories, but with the way you avoid his eyes, the paths quickly rupture back into parallel lines.

ping! [ new achievement: 'meeting phainon' ] [ phainon's affection +1! ]

you had to repel phainon, but he's strongly magnitised. it's been a few days like this and you don't know why - it's not like you have dog food in your pockets.

"so, what do you do for a living?" oh no, he's is showing interest and his imaginary dog tail is wagging.

your mind blanks. it's not like you can tell him you steal chests and spit bars at bartholos. that'd be a prison speedrun. "i... i'm a professional npc..." [ great impression (￣_￣) ] you groan at the system message.

he tilts his head, curiousity shining in his eyes. "en... pee... sea?"

"uhhh," you falter. then, a lightbulb. wait, wouldn't this is be a good opportunity to change his impression of you—for the worse? anymore association with a chrysos heir is basically a life sentence to becoming the mc, right? "... i," you tinker with your head. "... i sniff armpits..." [ ... my ears hurt (¯ . ¯;) ]

phainon can only smile stiffly. "ahaha?" [ phainon is... intrigued? what's with this guy ] [ phainon's affection +1!(?) ]

... that did not work. rule #3 of 'the npc survival handbook': don't draw attention to yourself (failed).

another day in your life...

"do you know about the other chrysos heirs?" phainon asks, carrying your haul of limited edition honeycakes. [ w(°ｏ°)w finally, the plot is moving! ]

"no," you refuse adamantly, "and i don't want to know because it's too much exposition to listen with no skip butt-"

"hello..."

you jump. "wah?!" the girl bloomed by death's hand studies you, her dark circles accentuating her eyes.

a deep voice thrusts himself in. "are you phainon's new sparring partner? hmph."

"the new traveller? you must be the one the threads were whispering about... why don't we have a chat later?"

"we welcome you to ohkema! isn't it great?!"

"isn't it great...?"

"isn't it great? hmph."

[ isn't it great? ＼(＾▽＾)／]

why in kephale's name is every chrysos heir suddenly here? is this a family gathering or what? it's like you're meeting your in-laws, ready to get their blessings for phainon's hand in marriage.

[ your future husband ] phainon smiles warmly. "well, now you know them." [ handsome as always (＾་།＾) ] [ new achievement: 'meeting the family!' ]

"do you want to embalm a corpse with me...?"

"are you really phainon's sparring partner? come, let me test your prowess in battle."

both of your sides are occupied. along with a tall puppy, there's also a purple butterfly and a tabby cat apparently [ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ]. "don't you guys have to save the world?"

castorice nods slowly. "indeed... finding thanatos, i hope to recover my past too..."

mydei crosses his arms. "of course i want to defeat nikador and return to castrum kremnos one day. but who says heroes don't need rest?"

"and you both decided to spend it with me of all people?"

"phainon mentions you a lot... we simply wanted to see for ourselves," castorice replies, "should we invite tribbie too?"

"please don't," you shrug your shoulders. "i'm only an npc, nothing to see here." [ are you sure about that? 🤨 ] suddenly, emojis?

"en-piii-she...?" castorices points a finger to her lip.

"em... piss... cee? what's that?" mydei lifts an eyebrow.

you were not gonna answer that again. [ castorice's affection +1! ] [ mydei's affection +1! ]

in the distance, threads begin to murmur a song. the dressmaster's fingers weave through her strings, strumming each one to orchestrate amphoreus’s future stage.

aglaea’s eyebrows dip. tribbie's ears opened at the first note, wary. "the threads are strained..."

[ (＠＾◡＾) ~ ] "phainon, dearie, how have you been?"

[ ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ ] "phainon, come look at the fresh fruit!"

phainon, is admittedly very popular, a stark contrast to you, like day and night. "how do you have so much energy to interact?" you question.

phainon is now petting a large dog, wearing a large grin when the dog licks his face. in your eyes, they are a pair of twins playing with each other. "i think it just comes naturally. it's a part of my duty to the citizens."

duty. the word is tiresome in your head. you crouch down, rubbing the large dog's fur. "then, is there anything you want to do for yourself?"

"oh..." he trails off, stealing a glance at you. the steady waves in phainon's eyes shine blue, finding your reflection in them on his horizon. "there are many things i'd love to do. you know, i'm jealous of you." [ (╬`益´) HE'S LYING-! ] you press the mute button.

"what do you mean?"

sunlight perches itself on top of his head, kissing the crown of his head like a tender mother to born babe. you feel your breath being stolen. he is surely nature's revered child. "i hope to be as free as you someday, doing whatever i want," he says (he doesn't know about the chest-stealing, does he?). a face steeled from suffering, regret, and past mistakes, smelts under your warm gaze. if you were to lift his lips up with your fingers, you would find it malleable without resistance. "away from all the chrysos heir business - it gets stressful at times."

your heart skips, understanding. beneath the exterior of a hero is someone who wants to live like every other ordinary person. your heart skips one more time, hearing how you could inspire a chase for freedom in him. [ your understanding of phainon has deepened ] an unsuspecting heat runs laps across your cheeks. you both wave goodbye to the dog. "so... you want to be an npc too?"

"n-p-c," phainon recounts, "an armpit sniffer?" he teases.

"nevermind." unconciously, you brush away the strands of hair obscuring phainon's eyes, taming his fur. his eyebrows lift, eyes radiant. ears redden. "ah..." a timid disappointment when you stop, fluffy ears drooping.

silently, you think the conversation over. duty... is that what creates purpose? should you find one too? does an npc need to think this extensively? perhaps this is a part of you speaking, begging to fit in with this foreign world.

freedom and obligation. can't both co-exist?

one day, you're haggling at the market stalls, firing words no one could understand. [ phainon's affection +1! ]

another day, you're falling off the dromases every minute. phainon watched you get strapped to the saddle with rope when all else failed. [ phainon's affection +1! ]

today, you ate agalae's stock of afternoon tea desserts. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

and tomorrow, you'll ask castorice and mydei to fight to the death to settle the philosophical dilemma of the 'unstoppable force vs. immovable object'. you told him of your evil plans. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

"uh, can you stop doing that?" you turn towards the human-sized dog behind you. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

phainon stops in his tracks. "doing what?"

you point at him. [ phainon's affection +1 ] "... nevermind." you give up. it's a bit endearing, honestly. you've come to appreciate his presence accompanying you. a small smile plays on your lips. [ phainon's affection +10!!! ] ..?

[ new mainline quest! 'chat with aglaea.' ]

that's was a great start to your morning; the deafening system alarm was a nice touch. you threw a fist at the pop-up, annoyed. [ this is abuse!! (ಥ﹏ಥ) ]

so now, you are in the bathhouse with aglaea [ and me! (*ˊᗜˋ*) ]. she slides a thick envelope across the table you were both sitting at.

hesitantly, you take it under her inspective gaze. apprehension takes root in your guts. you open the envelope. [ 7-7-7 TRILLION CREDITS??!! =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ] you look up at her, stunned. you only know how to mutter her name, "aglaea...?"

"i urge you to take it and travel far away," she explains, tapping the table with her finger. "the strife titan is closer than ever and amphoreus is losing itself to dark nights due to the black tide. yet, phainon is distracted at this crucial moment." the tapping stops. "and i suspect you are the cause of his straying mind."

you point at yourself, disbelieving [ (⊙_⊙) ☜ ? ]. "me?" you've seen this in dramas before - the part where the mother-in-law bribes her son's partner. you could almost laugh at the comparison. realistically, you would choose the money...

"-but that's not up to you," you frown, remembering yesterday. "phainon can choose what he wants to do."

you have come to understand each other, yes, the stars are re-writing your definitions - phainon, the great warrior who yearns for a quiet life, pledging to his one moon, and you, an outsider who went as they pleased yet also wanted to belong. if aglaea is to deny his longing desires, then it is to deny your existence.

"don't make me laugh," aglaea reprimands sternly. the threads in the air are tense, ready to cut. your throat cinches. "freedom is something we gave up long ago to devote ourselves to amphoreus's amity." a pained expression fades within a split second.

a heaviness spears into you, weighing you down. you look at your feet. she is right, but you can't help but feel pierced into. silence reigns the air.

ping! [ hey! (눈_눈) ] you look up. [ what are you doing right now? ]

...? [ you said you'd live freely! (albeit as an 'npc') why are you hesitating now? you're letting the system win! ]

"huh?" isn't that what the system wanted though? to have you obey the rules and the role of a typical mc. then again, when did you ever listen to it? "uh, well..."

aglaea stands up. "that's all i want to convey."

"wait," the words suddenly burst out, a wave of energy surging. [ go go! ] "... saving amphoreus, it's not only an obligation, but something all the chrysos heirs chose for themselves." [ ∑d(°∀°d) ] aglaea raises an eyebrow. she is letting you speak what could be your final words.

"... castorice wishes to recover her past. she will defeat thanatos and save amphoreus, to discover the world with newfound purpose."

"mydei hopes to return to castrum kremnos and sever the last ties. he will defeat nikador to protect amphoreus and his new life."

"and phainon has people he wants to protect. and to do that, he will save amphoreus to keep them safe."

"the chrysos heirs all share the same feelings as you, hearts strong; saving amphoreus, but to also save a future of their own as well. so... put more faith... in them..." the words die out when you realise that what you've been saying, to aglaea of all people. her stare is critical, analysing your flaws. "or don't..." well, it was a good life.

you are expecting the sweet release of death. but nothing comes. it is silent before aglaea sits back down, one leg crossing over the other. she rests her chin on her hand, looking into the distance. seemingly conflicted, as if not wanting you to look at her, but hoping you'd stay for a bit longer. the ice in the air warms bit-by-bit. you process the silent understanding with her, watching the water flow. [ aglaea's affection +1 ]

"don't die guys. seriously." you give mydei a pat on the back, and castorice a thumb up because she'll instantly dissolve you otherwise. "where's phainon?"

"i saw him on the rooftop... i think he's wait... ing..." castorice trails off, head bobbing from a lack of sleep presumably.

mydei scratches his head. "we'll head off first then," he sighs. "don't keep him any longer than you have to."

"why am i-" the pair gradually get smaller into the distance. "-the one to go?" [ new mainline mi- ] "yeah, yeah, i get it." you wave the message away. [ 凸( ` ﾛ ´ )凸 ] you smile. [ YOU LAUGHED- ] muted.

sure enough, you find the missing person on a rooftop. phainon is surprised to see you. you wave, approaching him. "yo."

"... yo." he mirrors, brightening like the sun. but behind the smile were shadows.

"what's up?" you ask.

phainon is in quiet contemplation. "i'm afraid, honestly," he starts, "i do want to defeat nikador. it's been a life-long goal."

"but... i wish i could run away too, away from the commitment. rest my eyes and not have to think or worry."

insecure, anxious. you saw hints of it before, but now he has cracked completely, revealing to you. the calm before the storm. a final exchange of all the unwritten words.

you make an inch for his hand, but unsure, you retract it. "you sound as if you'll die."

his eyes widen. "i didn't mean to insinuate..." he looks down forlornly, at the distance between his and your hands. the quiver in his fingers craves, agitated. "i can't die yet, there's too much i want to do." his eyes move to yours. but the embarassment he feels when you reciprocate it quickly deflects his gaze away.

skin to bone; rust to metal. they only rot to the test of time, and it is only in this way that phainon will release himself from the overworld. not to the titankin, not to nikador, but a natural harbinger. that way, every breath, down to his last, can be spent on you.

you really want to pet his head. thinking back to the conversation with aglaea, you construct your words, "come home after this. to amphoreus, to the chrysos heirs. afterwards, there will be time for your heart to rest."

all these answers but phainon didn't find one to the question he is searching for. he tugs at your sleeve, eyebrows frowning. you feel almost shy looking into his faithful eyes. "will you be there too?"

your mouth opens, "me?" his ears wait for an answer. his fingers fiddling your fabric to as if to annoy a response out of you. reject, accept, deny, he's begging for anything. it doesn't matter.

phainon is entirely devoted to you, for reasons he had yet to explain. this part of his story is not left out. claim, discipline, stipple your mark into him and his skin will not rebound from your carving. until skin melted into flesh, and flesh peeled off his bones, and bones pulverised into dust, everything would remain as history written on his body until then.

at the end of the day, into the night, he is waiting for you. he's hoping you'll do the same.

a velvet smile paints your face, heart beating, your answer as natural as day and night: "i will be waiting too." for him, and his story of devotion.

"when we reunite, let's make a world of our own. one we both belong to, and one where we are free to do everything we want. where the sun guides us and the moon watches over, co-existing." [ ... ]

rule #2 in the 'npc survival handbook': do not get involved with the chrysos heirs.

phainon finds solace in the crook of your neck, strong arms wrapped around you but his hold trembles. you let him do as he please - let his heart, something he almost gave up, finally express itself, and you can hear his heart beat prove its existence. quietly, you card through his white strands with your fingers.

the sun begins to set.

"phainon, i order you to track this outsider. i do not know how they happened to breach okhema, but i suspect they fell from beyond the sky," agalae instructed, eyes sharpened. "if they make any suspiscious movement, or mention the forbidden, they must be dealt with swiftly."

thus, phainon watched over you, playing executioner. another mission, nothing new. leave them alone if proven harmless, execute if necessary.

standing upright on a rooftop, the first time he laid eyes on you, you were in the middle of marmoreal market, dazed, speaking... to no one? then the chest stealing, the sagelore fruit stuffed in your mouth, doing everything that you pleased - riding the loose currents of freedom, unrestrained by rules. without knowing, bright laughter left his rigid lips.

as days passed, disturbance grew. for whatever reason, the titankin were strongly attracted to you, as if you were an anomaly they had to eliminate. before one of them could strike you-

"hm?" as soon as you turned around to look, there was nothing there but the glaring sun quietly protecting you all along.

months passed like this and phainon slowly carved your existence into amphoreus. from the big movements, the twitching in your expressions. to the hollowness in your eyes when you watched the people chatter, the children running by, the scholars conversing. he saw it then. a black sheep walking among the herd; a shard of the night misfitting itself into bright daylight.

chaos worsened. the black tide brought night and agitated harmony's wavelengths. the titankin spiralled and even more were after your throat. took its toll on phainon as he stayed by your side when amphoreus was asking for him. it was one of the few times that he let his duties go for something he freely chose to do. although, the price to pay was hefty - it was him against many. and the threads hummed tunes about his misdeeds.

as much as the dark scared him, the night carried you to him on that fated day. you were going to kill him. open his stomach. stab his chest. those were most effective. but you felt so warm in his arms when he caught you.

in the back of his mind, a nagging hope procured a promising premonition. a hope brought to flame, his studying that came to fruition, when you tenderly looked after him.

he looked up at you. the moon softly caressed its shimmer upon you. you were moonlight. and from there on, the sun orbited the moon. a devotion that naturally made sense, that was meant to be.

days turned to weeks. you tried not to think about the emptiness. who are you? someone waiting for their husband to return home from war?

"hey kid, watch out." you steady a brown-haired kid before he could fall over again. he bows, thanking you. you learned his name was theophis.

"buying more sagelore fruit? come, come! the produce this season is at its ripest." their name was auguste.

"good morning, dearie. is phainon not here today either?" her name was hegesia.

again and again, you strolled around okhema, sticking names to familiar faces. the people grew to know you as time moved its hands - a sense of belonging and purpose in a place once foreign. you found yourself engaging with them, not because of a reward, or even being forced to do it.

it is then that you realise it. chatter, talking, noise. yet, everything is too quiet at the same time. no banter, no teasing remark... nothing.

in the middle of marmoreal market, you stand dazed again. something is supposed to guide you in moments like these. your heart is heavy, mourning a loss.

"system?"

the wind slips through your fingers, proudly holding your hand. it answers your call.

you are sound asleep when the night courses through your balcony, blowing the curtains with its star-glistened breath. the cautious clicking of boots unheard. fingers delicate, lips yearning, but settlling for gently pressing their head against yours, lightly rubbing back and forth. so careful, too delicate, a touch that only borders the rim of a minute gap between you and him, afraid to rouse you from your dreams.

"my moonlight... "

strangely, you slept well last night. and the night after that. and the next one too. you did your usual routine in marmoreal market and were about to head home when a strong gust of wind attacks you. "woah!" you hold your arms in front you.

the breeze gradually calms, tugging at your clothes. slowly, you lower your arms, feeling the familiarity in its touch. the wind guides you by the hand, dragging you hurriedly to the rooftop and you recognise his back.

"phainon?" he jumps a little at the sound of your voice, his tail wagging. his owner has returned. he awkwardly rubs a hand on the back of his neck, bashful - those ears are red again. what's he hiding?

his shoulders shake slightly. it is taking all his strength to not run into your loving arms. before he could, there was something in his cards to reveal. he turns around, closing the distance, and you finally meet his face. a very flushed one, that is. but a face you missed all the same. he clears his throat. "i want to explore amphoreus, find a quieter place," he says, structuredly, "i will return to okhema when needed, of course, but for now... the heart wants to rest," he extends his hand towards you. "will you come with me?" his hand trembles.

no pressure, no forcing. he is letting your heart decide the flow. he would go anywhere you wanted, as your desires are also his as much as it is yours. this is the freedom he wants, a drift of the wind that you decide, as long as he can ride along it with you. the direction does not matter when the amphoreus is only a speck in the universe, with so much to explore.

a smile creeps onto your lips. you steady his hand into yours. even after all this time, he acts like he's meeting you for the first time. "why wouldn't i?"

"oh," phainon immediately brightens. "g-great!"

you remember the well-rested nights. "but it was you, wasn't it? how come you didn't reveal yourself sooner?"

his encompassing hands fidget with your ring finger. "i... was practicing my lines for days." he looks away. "i was really nervous," he mumbles.

you grin. "what were you so afraid of? it's only me."

he chuckles. "you're right..." slowly, he takes your hand and presses it against his cheek. your cradle is a fondness reserved only for him. in his eyes, an affection that has accompanied you everywhere, since you first got here. a love that didn't need recognition, it only asks to follow you and shower him with the sound of your laughter when he gets lonely. "about everything, about us, i want to tell you how it all started from my eyes. ever since you got here..." -the sun had always followed the moon. he kisses your palm.

and before he forgets, phainon hands you an envelope. it is as heavy as you remember it to be. "all their blessings are in here, the chrysos heirs."

it really sounds like you are getting married. you let out a tired laugh.

there are no more rules. whether from a sense of obligation, freedom or loneliness, you'll both live how you want. become the main characters of your own stories.

"let's go!" with no time to waste, phainon excitedly takes you by the hand, legs flourished by the wind and trails of good fortune. the day is beginning to rise, and the sun is more than happy to follow his moonlight into the next day, and for all of infinity and evermore.

"godspeed to you," tribbie clasps her hands together in prayer, looking down at the pair from the far above. then, she smiles, her head swaying side-to-side. "searching for a small world of their own. it's almost like an elopement, isn't it, agy?"

aglaea hums, hand on her heart. the threads chime a ceremonial aria, the ice melts ever so little. "the heart... knows what it wants."

a person closes the novel they were reading. sighing, they pick up their phone and start typing again:

"this author has balls of steel to come back with another disasterous novel. so criiiiiiinge. where was castorice at the end? i was waiting for her! why is the male lead, a powerful warrior, reduced to a lovesick puppy? how does that make sense, you stupid author! such abysmal writing full of holes, leaking enough to fill an entire ocean. insanity, i say!" this random nobody criticises, slamming their fingers on the screen. they clear their throat. "hmph. the next volume better be coming soon."

a/n: im pooped, expect my third child to come out next year probably. everyone's invited to the baby shower, just make sure to bring ur best costumes. my back breaks everytime i have to argue philosophy with the reader and the characters like,, im being attacked from all sides. fun fact: ever since i prematurely posted my sunday fic, when im sleeping, everytime i hear a phone notif i instantly wake up bc i get scared thinking i accidentally posted again. so thats cool. new trauma gained ig😜 idk what else to say. like and subscribe, hit the bell icon for notifications. lemme know ur fav toothpaste brand. [ new achievement: 'thanks for reading!!' ヾ(*'▽'*)' ]

[vxlentinescookies]

ohmygosh is it possible you could write something for past!shadow milk cookie x (fem) reader?

perhaps there's a moment where the reader returns to his spire/kingdom after visiting her family that lives afar, but she comes back to him all wounded after being robbed from some bandits?

i just want to see this guy being absolutely distraught over not knowing this happened to us, but we reassure him with gentle touches, kisses, and comforting words 😭💖

→ ❛The Old Days: A robbery❜

→ Pairing ; Shadow Milk Cookie x Fem!Reader → Quote ; ❛❛You’re my all and everything, you know that, right?❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons → A/N ; Here you go!

It was a normal day like always, it just seemed to be one of those days where things had come right and would pass right as they do, but…

“(y/n)! Beloved!” A voice would call out to you as you arrived at the Spire of Knowledge, your steps becoming hurried more and more as you approach it before kneeling by the side of your beloved, Shadow Milk Cookie.

“Milkie, what happened?” You ask him with worry as you rush to his side, before he’d speak again, between heavy breaths. “You look hurt…”

“I was robbed—Some bandits came and tried to rob us!” He’d say, clearly distraught as you sighed and helped him up “My sweetheart…”

“Come, lets get you all patched up, ok?” You say, softly, looking at him with a sweet gaze before lifting him up towards the stairs of the spire.

Being robbed was something Shadow Milk couldnt have thought of… happening in his life!

Yet here we are, moments after the events with you bringing him up with a warm smile and a cozy air.

Rising into your shared bedroom, you make sure everything is secure before allowing him to rest into the bed before you’d climb to his side, smiling.

And you’d whisper sweet nothings, gentle smiles and words and sweet whispers, things to keep him calm…

“Breathe, angel, breathe with me…” You’d say at one point, once in bed as you held his hands in yours with a warm smile “Feel free to lean on me…”

And he’d do so, leaning into your chest, feeling the soft heartbeat of your heart, it was everything he needed to feel calm already, despite being so distraught before, your scent and self calmed him instantly always.

“Oh sweetheart, what I would do without you…” He’d say, setting his face on your breast with a soft smile as his hair tickled your skin “You’re my all and everything, you know that, right?”

“Of course… Of course I know…”

But you know dreams are dreams, still, you cling to it like your life depended on it.

Your hands would caress his hair, softly, and your eyes would gaze over him as he cuddled to you, holding you close.

He was still distraught, that much wasnt a lie, he was still aching over what was stolen and lost.

But with you by his side… How could he ever feel lost…?

… Right, how could a jester like him ever feel lost…

[gangstalkerbarbie]

This being tumblr, for my own wellbeing I have to explicitly put forth that we disagree about the draft (I think a country that needs to draft should impose national service on all young adults without discrimination, I would have gone to war by now if my family had let me and I don't think that was my family's business).

Having said that: we probably agree that the thing is also that actually... they don't? Young women Don't intrinsically smell like that. No kind of human juvenile does. I was a teenage girl once and I raised my brothers and some of my cousins, I would know.

There is an oaty, warm, milky baby smell everyone has, especially concentrated around their hair whorl, but they grow out of it at puberty. If you've ever lived with an intact male or female animal and watched them go through puberty, you'll notice they lose the baby smell then too.

So at least we can rule out that he's a threat to literal children.

But like teenagers? Teenagers stink. There's not a special creamy buttery teenage smell for any sex of teenager, it's just that girls are pushed more to cover their hormonal teenager stink.

What do they cover it with? Perfume. Immoderate amounts of the stuff.

Due to the vagaries of culture (and how disgustingly normative just like outright pedophilia used to be in many places), a majority of little girl perfumes (so the ones you're supposed to grow out of around, say, 28) smell like buttery vanilla and suchlike. Edible sugary dainty fluffy smells, Shirley Temple kind of smells, aren't you just a sweet little thing, Daddy wants to eat you up.

These are the smells he's conditioned himself to find sexually irresistible. Again, adult women are often pressured not to wear them...

Not that he'll ever see this on a recycled post about him on a site he isn't remotely on, but I'm saying this for the benefit of the teens likely to find me from the Homestuck tag: they should prevent this guy from hanging out near high schools. He's both rapey and stupid, a combination routinely propagandised to girls as something you can and should want to have in your life, which you actually very much do not want remotely breathing near you.

Anybody talking about the smell of a woman in these sorts of terms is a fucking nutjob too. Everyone who is attracted to whatever sex enjoys that sex's pheromone stink, which is under no circumstances ever any kind of irresistible "fuck me" signal. Nobody consents to sex by existing. You always have control over your actions. "Not being able to resist" violating someone's bodily autonomy is always a choice and I unironically think that in a perfect world everybody who makes this choice should be chemically castrated.

This is why I don’t give a fuck when people say it’s mean for me to want all those with a Y chromosome to do forced military service and die in war. Because now they’re wasting all our resources to go on the internet and say pedophilic shit like this.

[larluce]

Ok, to celebrate the Merlin is trend yet again. I'll share a Merthur prompt that occured to me yesterday.

I've read a couple of fics where Merlin is deaf, like he was born deaf or lost his hearing at a very young age, which leads to Arthur learning sign language to be able to comunicate with him. I love this concept, mostly cause I'm a big fan of sign language I think it's beautiful.

But what if Arthur was the deaf one and not Merlin?

Think about it. Royalty wasn't allowed to be nothing but perfect. Left handed princes were forced to learn to write with their right hand, because that was consider "defective". Now imagine having a dishability! It was disastrous!

I imagine Uther forcing Arthur to learn how to read lips and talk with a normal voice so nobody knows he's deaf. The King makes almost a requirement that people must be infront of the prince when they talk to him and never talk to him when his back is turned, saying this is to show their respect properly. Also Uther makes Arthur only speak with other people when strictly necessary. This, of course, makes Arthur feel miserable and lonely.

Years go by and Merlin arrives in Camelot. Their first meeting and later confrontation on the street happens mostly the same, just adding Merlin constantly turning his back on Arthur, despite Arthur telling him to speak to him to his face (this annoys Arthur particularly for obvious reasons).

Then Merlin saves his life, but this time Arthur isn't affected by lady Helen singing because he can't hear her. And he is way more observant thanks to his lack of hearing, so he clearly notices Merlin was in the other side of the room one second and next to him in the next when Merlin pulls him away of the direction of the knife.

So when Uther is about to reward Merlin, Arthur says just that.

Arthur: How is that you came here in time? You were on the other side of the room! Weren't you affected by the echantament?

Merlin: (nervous) I... Well...

Uther: (suspicious) Couldn't it be you are an ally of this witch boy?

Gaius: (to Merlin's rescue) Is not that, my lord. Merlin could safe the prince in time because he couldn't be affected by the singing at all. He's deaf.

This is a lie, Merlin is not deaf, but his mother is. Gaius is saying this just to save him and Merlin gets it inmediatly so he plays along.

Uther: (to Merlin) Is this true?

Merlin: (speaks in a "deaf voice" as he signs at the same time) Yes, your majesty.

Uther: I see...

Arthur: (looks what Merlin did with his hands with curiosity)

Uther: Well, as I was saying. Your act today merits something quite especial. From now on you'll be the Prince's manservant!

Later. When Arthur and Merlin are alone in Arthur's chambers.

Arthur: How did you do it?

Merlin: What?

Arthur: Get to me in time.

Merlin: Gaius explained. I'm deaf.

Arthur: Is not just that you didn't hear the singing. You were too far!

Merlin: I run fast.

Arthur: That's not true! I didn't see you running, you just appeared at my side.

Merlin: Well, how could you know? You were asleep, weren't you?

Arthur: (thinking) Fuck... (Says) You're right...It just... seemed like it because I fell asleep. (Sits on his desk and starts reading some scrolls) You are not needed now. Leave.

Merlin: (puts himself on Arthur's line of vision) I know... about you.

Arthur: (nervous) I don't know what you mean.

Merlin: You are deaf (makes the sign of "deaf")

Arthur: (laughs) I'm not.

Merlin: You weren't affected by the singing.

Arthur: That's not true. (Thinking) I was careful to pretend to fall asleep like the others.

Merlin: I also called you ungrateful royal ass when we were heading here and you had your back turned at me like ten times and you never once answered.

Arthur: ...

Merlin: I must say your speaking voice is quite impressive-

Arthur: (stands up abruptly and points at Merlin's throat with his sword)

Merlin: (lifts his hands) Wow! This is what I get for saving your life? A very ungrateful ass indeed.

Arthur: (afraid he's secret will come out) I will kill you right there.

Merlin: There's no need for this! I won't tell anyone!

Arthur: (more panic mode) Nobody can't know! If you dare to say something-

Merlin: (shouts) I HAVE MAGIC!

Arthur: ...

Arthur: (thinking maybe he didn't read Merlin's lips correctly) What?

Merlin: I have magic. That's why I wasn't affected by the singing and that's how I got to you in time. I also dropped the chandelier on her. I used magic. See? Now you know a secret of mine that could get me killed. So I'm not going to give you away

Arthur: (puts down his sword slowly) So... you are not really deaf? (Kind of dissapointed cause he though he finally find a person like him that could understand him)

Merlin: (surprised Arthur puts more attention to this fact than the fact that he is a sorcerer) No, but my mom is. That's partly how I figured you out. You remind me of her.

Arthur: (remembering the sign language) You did something with your hands before, while speaking.

Merlin: Oh, that's a language my mother tought me to be able to comunicate with her better 😊! We have a hand gesture for every letter, a, b, c, d, e (shows the sign as he mentions the letters) And also a sign for every word like table, run, angry, prince (does the last sign pointing at Arthur) It's easier for her like this. I know reading lips is exhausting. I translated her what other people were saying most of the time.

Arthur: (gets a bittersweet feeling, thinking on how this woman wasn't force to fit the standar and rather her son adapted himself to her needs) That's really nice. You are a good son. (smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes). I won't tell anybody about you either. You don't have to worry.

Merlin: (relieved, but also notices his sadness) I could teach you if you like. My mom's language.

Arthur: (shakes his head) I can't be seen learning a deaf language.

Merlin: They don't have to know is for you. As far as everyone knows I'm the one who is deaf, remember? You can tell them you're learning it for me so you can comunicate with your deaf servant better.

Arthur: And would they buy it?

Merlin: I mean you are not precisly known for being kind to your servants, but it's worth a try. What do you say?

Arthur: (smiles genuinely this time) I would like to.

So Merlin teaches Arthur the language and his life gets better from then on. Merlin is always with Arthur in every meeting or interaction with other nobels and translates him what he didn't catch. It becomes a common occurrence seeing the prince and his servant comunicating in this particular way in the halls. Then Morgana (one of the few that knew about Arthur's secret) and Gwen start learning it too, bringing even more attention from outside view.

Then Uther, angry cause he thinks this could lead to Arthur's secret been revealed, tries to send Merlin away. Arthur argues with him for that of course, sometimes signing furiosly as he speaks.

Uther: Stop making those hand movements for godsake! You look like a retarded!

Arthur: (doesn't speak and signs furiously instead) Oh, you don't like when I sign? Well look!

Uther: What was that? Speak.

Arthur: (signs) It doesn't feel good not understanding what someone says, does it?

Uther: I said speak!

Arthur: (shouts) I said it doesn't feel good when you don't understand what someone says, does it?! To have make an extrordinary effort to just get a word right everytime someone as much as opens their mouth!

Uther: ...

Uther: Arthur-

Arthur: I finally found a way to comprehend better the world around me thanks to Merlin. And instead of seing it as an opportunity, you want to take that away from me!

Uther: You were fine before.

Arthur: I wasn't!

Uther: Well, you won't die because you can't do some hand gestures. This is stopping. Now!

Arthur: (takes a deep breath) Alright, I won't do it ever again. But let Merlin stay. (Begs) Please.

Uther: The boy can stay.

Arthur: (with gritted teeth) Thank you, father. (Bows and leaves)

Morgana: (enters the room having heard the whole conversation from outside) You must know this will kill him.

Uther: He's just being dramatic. It'll pass.

Morgana: My lord, you never once wondered... why Arthur didn't move?

Uther: What?

Morgana: When the blade of that witch was flying at him.

Uther: He was enchanted.

Morgana: He wasn't. He can't hear, the voice of Lady Helen couldn't reach him. So why didn't he move when he was completely aware and he had more than enough time to evade it?

Uther: ...

Morgana: Think about it, my lord. (Leaves)

Sometime later. After seeing his son doing his duties depressed, contrasting with how joyful he had been the last months, Uther decides to call Merlin to his chambers.

Merlin: Did you call for me, Sire?

Uther: What are those hand gestures you do that my son seems so obsessed with?

Merlin: My mom calls it "sign language", Sire.

Uther: So it is an actual language.

Merlin: Yes, there is a "hand gesture" for every letter and word.

Uther: (pauses) Could you... Teach it to me?

Merlin: (smiles brightly) Of course, Sire.

So Uther lets Arthur keep signing. One day he surprises him signing back and Arthur almost cries right there.

As time passes. More people learn to sign, first the knights so they can interact in silence during a mission (an idea proposed by Arthur). Then, since the King , the Prince and the King's ward interact like this constantly, it gains popularity as a "language of royals" so nobel families start using it too. Merlin teaches to sign to some of Gaius' pacients who have deaf relatives which leads to the language to spread to the lower town.

And about a decade later sign language is basically the official second language in Camelot.

That's all I got for now. I don't know how merthur would get together in this AU or how events of the series would unfold with this change like Nimueh or Morgause intervation. If you had any ideas, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be reading you ;)

[forcaleb]

bound by shadows — caleb

warnings — yandere caleb, written before i read the main story and his myth, saw some quotes on other apps, slight angst, no fluff

notes — knock knock its user raffswife here my old account is broken for some reason lets hope its not the same here </3 tags: @aomiiine

caleb doesn’t understand why you’re so afraid of him.

he’s keeping you safe from people who want to hurt you, from those who would use you for the aether core inside your body. his house is the safest place in skyhaven — no one can reach you here, not without caleb’s permission, at least.

so why are you cowering on your bed, looking at him with those fearful eyes? why are you leaning away from his touch? he wants to take care of you, not hurt you.

“caleb… please let me go,” you beg for the tenth time today, refusing to take the food he’s given you. “i promise i’ll come back when my mission is done- just… please let me go outside.”

“can’t do that, princess,” caleb murmurs quietly. “you know how much i hate it when you go out by yourself. besides, didn’t i tell you how dangerous it is right now? people are coming after you, pipsqueak.”

pipsqueak. the nickname you used to love as a little girl now sends shivers down your spine. you hate it when caleb gets like this — possessive and obsessed with you. sure, having him around keeps the weird guys away, but that doesn’t mean you’re okay with him stopping you from going out and meeting your friends.

he gets ridiculously jealous. the first time he saw you hanging out with a male coworker — who, mind you, has a girlfriend (now fiancée) — he wouldn’t let it go for weeks.

it doesn’t make sense. what happened to the sweet boy you’ve known since you were five? the boy who used to cook your favorite meals when you returned from missions? the boy who promised he’d do anything to make you happy?

“caleb, i don’t want to be locked up in here forever!” you exclaim, pulling at his uniform, desperation laced in your tone. “i have a life outside of this. i-i want to be able to work, have fun, and live my normal life again. i don’t need you to-”

“you don’t need me? is that what you think?” caleb grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his uniform. “tell me. what do you need? we can go back to linkon if that’s what you want. if you want to return to our past, we’ll rebuild our old house and move in together.” his grip on your wrist tightens. “and if one house isn’t enough, i’ll build you a whole maze. i’ll decorate it with everything you could ever want,” he says, bringing a hand to your face and gently cupping your left cheek. “it will be the most beautiful, stunning garden you’ve ever seen.”

“caleb, you can’t just-”

“no one will ever find you again. i’ll protect you forever,” caleb cuts you off, his eyes showing no room for argument. you don’t even know what to say. caleb is terrifying when he (or the toring chip) acts like this. it doesn’t matter if he insists he’s the same old caleb from your childhood — he just doesn’t feel like your caleb anymore.

“caleb…” you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks. you don’t know what else to say. it’s too overwhelming when he becomes like this. his touch, words, basically everything about him is suffocating.

“shh,” caleb says, gently wiping the tears from your eyes. “don’t cry, pipsqueak. you know i hate it when i see you cry.” he smiles softly as your tears begin to dry. “i promise you, once everyone who wants to hurt you or use you for your aether core disappears, you’ll finally be safe.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

This could be just my hormones going insane but I just need a fix of Steve/eddie (or both) giving reader some loving cause all of her friends are having babies and she’s feeling a little bit frustrated it’s not happening with her. Either of the boys end up catching the vibes so they doo all they can to help our girl out and it sticks

What I would GIVE!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) grinding, breeding kink, creampie, mention of pregnancy, hurt/comfort, cockwarming

Having a baby isn’t something you’ve ever really thought about. Your life has always been so you haven’t really had the time, but as you’ve gotten older, you’ve begun to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t mind having a little one running around. You see the tiny little clothes when you’ve gone shopping and your heart bursts. At restaurants, you’ll see the cute little families and wonder what if that could be you?

Your baby fever get even worse when one of your close friends who just had her first child invites you over to meet him. The second she puts him in your arms and his tiny hand wraps around your finger, that's it. You just know you want one of your own. A little baby that you would raise until they eventually would venture out in the world on their own.

But that's all a pipe dream in your eyes. That would never happen for you because you’re single and sperm donors and adoptions can be tricky. So you're just stuck thinking about it for the rest of your life, just hoping, wishing that it'll miraculously happen.

You spend the whole drive home sobbing. You can barely even see through your tears, but you somehow make it home to your apartment that you share with your best friend, Steve. And for once, you hope he isn’t home, because there's no way you can tell him why you're crying. It'd be way too embarrassing.

So you wordlessly hurry to your room where you bury yourself under your covers as the sobs pour out of you. You feel so pathetic for crying about something like this, but you can't help it. It just hurts way more than it should.

There's a knock at the door and you're so glad that you locked it. You really can't talk to Steve right now. He just wouldn't understand. You know that he would be understanding and sympathetic like always, but this time, it would be even better if he was actually experiencing what you are.

"Hey, y/n," he says from the other side of the door and you can just imagine him with furrowed eyebrows, the look he always gets when he's upset. You know you've hurt his feeling by shutting him out, but this is for his own good. He doesn't want to have this awkward conversation with you. You're sure of it.

"I know you're upset about something so I uh, I made you that hot chocolate you like." He's so sweet that it makes your heart ache sometimes. What did you do to deserve a best friend like him?

You throw the covers off of you and make your way to the door. You unlock and open it to reveal Steve's sympathetic smile. He holds the mug out to you and you take it, taking a sip before heading back to your bed, Steve sitting next to you, but making sure to keep some space between the two of you.

Just like always, the silence isn't awkward between the two of you as you sip on your beverage and he just sits there. You set the mug on your desk then sit next to him again, this time to where your thighs are touching and you lean your head on his shoulder.

His arm wraps around your arm, his hand moving lazily up and down it as a way to comfort you. You can't help but let you mind wonder what it would be life if Steve was the father of your child. You're he'd be the perfect candidate, but you're sure that he'd think it was weird. His best friend wants to have a baby with him? That's definitely out of his comfort zone and you know it.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering you?" No fucking way. you're taking that shit to the grave. You've got to make something up, and fast.

"Just womanly stuff, you know how it is," you sniff, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks again. You do your best to try and pretend that your stomach is cramping and Steve is quick to pull you into his lap.

His rests is hands on the lower part of your stomach where he knows they get really bad and he begins to massage the area to relieve some of the pain. He always take sure good care of you and that's how you know that he would be a great dad.

You think about him doing the exact same thing when your stomach starts showing, talking to the baby and you suddenly feeling wet between your legs. You're staring to see Steve in a different way and you're not entirely sure how to feel about it.

"How does that feel?" He asks, looking down at you and suddenly, every single thought is replaced by your need to know what his lips feel like. They look like two pretty, pink pillows and you just can't stop staring.

“I’m not really cramping,” you tell him, feeling guilty that you lied to him. “I uh, I was actually upset because-well, because everyone around me is getting married and having children and I just-that’s what I want. I just want a family, Stevie.”

You look so heartbroken and Steve can see your eyes welling up again. He suddenly gets an idea, but he knows it’s crazy. When you mentioned having a family, clearly he wasn’t supposed to be in the picture. But now that it’s come to his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it.

He’d be honored to have a baby with you. He just knows you’d be an amazing mother, especially when he’s seen you with the kids in his family at different Harrington functions. Now that he’s thought of it, he can’t unsee it. Now he’s got to see it through. That is, if you agree. And why would you? The idea really isn’t something that he should be suggesting to his best friend, but what the hell?

“What if we had a baby?” He asks, his honey eyes boring into yours and you swear you just might melt. He’s so sweet sometimes that you don’t feel like you deserve him. He takes your silence as his answer and quickly tries to backtrack. “Just forget I said anything.”

“No, Steve,” you grab hold of his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I’d love to have a baby with you. Honored, actually.”

“You would?” His face lights up and you can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is.

“Yes,” you nod.

You move so that you’re straddling his lap while his hands rest on your waist. Shit, you’re really doing this and Steve can’t hide his excitement. This might be the smartest thing he’s ever done.

You make the first move, leaning down and bringing your face to his, slowly capturing his lips with yours. He's quick to respond, trying to match your pace as his lips move against yours. Yours are soft and he's convinced that this is the best kiss he's ever had. You know exactly what you're doing and he's just desperate for more.

Just as he melting into you, he feels you grinding against his crotch and he lets out a whine, already feeling himself getting hard. This has to be a record for sure. He lets you do what you want, loving everything you're doing so far.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he swears he's going to come just from hearing you. It's so hot and now that he's hearing it person and not on the other side of the wall when you pleasure yourself, he's sure it's even hotter because he's the cause of it.

“God, you’d look so pretty,” he sighs against your lips. “So fucking hot. And I’d praise you any chance I got.”

He’s saying all the right things and now you think you’re ready. You’ve-you’ve never done anything like this with Steve, but something about it feels so good, so right.

Your top comes off and it’s thrown to the side as Steve takes advantage of your now exposed skin. He kisses and nips at chest as you melt in his arms, mewling at every touch of his lips.

He slips the straps of your bra off of your shoulders and continues his kisses there, mixing in his lips with it as your hands grab hold of his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin and you flush, feeling hot from both his compliments and his soft lips. “Now let me see you.” He unhooks your bra and pulls it away from your body to reveal your bare chest.

Your nipples are hard and Steve’s mouth waters as he thinks about how badly he wants them in his mouth. They’re practically begging for it as your back arches, moving your body from side to side, his gaze following you.

Without warning, Steve grabs hold of your waist and turns your bodies so your back is flat against your bed, him on top of you. He goes straight for your nipple, taking it into his mouth, giving it a hard suck as he pins your arms to the bed.

You gasp as the feeling and Steve continues, introducing his tongue as he licks and sucks on your nipple, one of his hands moving to massage the other one so it gets some attention as well.

Your back arches against his as a pretty moan falls from your lips and he takes that as an invitation to continue. He bites down hard and you mewl, your fingers gripping the bedding underneath you.

“That’s a pretty sound, baby,” he compliments as he pulls away for a split second. “Wanna make it again?”

“Please,” you whine and he goes in again with another as you let out another moan. Once you’ve reached your peak, he moves onto the other nipple, doing the exact same routine until you’re orgasming again, grabbing onto his shirt, trying to pull it off of him so you can proceed.

Steve’s shirt is off in an instant and he kisses his way down your torso slowly, giving your stomach special attention. He peppers it with kisses as he showers you with the sweetest words, wanting to make you feel special, to know that he really wants this and isn’t just doing it because he should.

“You’re gonna be such a great mother,” he starts off, pressing a kiss to the spot right above your belly button. “I’d be honored to raise a child with you.” Another kiss to the spot. “Fuck, I’m gonna love filling you,” is what he finishes off with before pressing a kiss to the spot right above your jeans. He then unbuttons them and you just now you’re a mess now, feeling your slick rolling down your legs.

Your jeans are off in an instant followed by your panties and Steve undressed himself before spreading your legs wide, lining himself up with you before slowly inserting himself. It’s a tight fit, but by the time he’s done with you, you’re going to be so loose.

His pace is slow as he takes his time, watching you so intently to make sure that you’re okay. You’re more than enjoying yourself, it seems as you moan and whine, your nails scratching down his back. Steve didn’t realize just how much he loves not using a condom, feeling every single part of you against him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says as his thrusts pick up, moving even faster, inch by inch trying to get all of himself inside you.

“Haven’t done this in a while.” It’s at least been a couple of months.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll loosen you up in no time.” He’s pumping even harder and faster now, trying to get to a pace that the two of you will enjoy and continues at that pace as you respond positively.

“And look at that. You’re taking me so well.” He’s moving so fast now that the bed is squeaking underneath you, moving back and forth with every pump and you’re eating it up, needing feel all of him.

“More,” you whine and Steve just chuckles.

“Can’t go any faster than this.”

“No, Steve, more.” You grab hold of his hips and push him further inside you, bucking your hips against his so he gets the hint.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he winks. “Sure I’m not gonna hurt you?”

“I want you to. I just need to feel you. Want you to fill me.” You buck your hips again and again as the two of you work together, trying your best to get the other off.

He’s all the way inside you now and you can feel tears pricking your eyes as you can feel every single inch of him, so sure that he’s going to split you apart. Not that you mind. That would actually be the best way to go of you’re being honest.

“Taking me so well. Look at you, so close to coming. I can see it. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Gonna look even more beautiful with my baby. Gonna-“ his words are cut off as he reaches his own orgasm. He releases inside you and you watch him come undone, curling his head towards his chest as his eyes shut tight. His fingers are digging into your waist and you push his hair away from his sweaty face as he’s coming down.

He’s got just enough energy for little more. Just enough to get you there. He’s moving as hard and fast as he can, watching you come undone underneath him. You’re so pretty, the perfect mother for his child.

As soon as your orgasm is over, Steve lowers himself down onto, not even bothering to pull out because he just wants to be this close to you for a little longer. His lips find yours in a gentle kiss before he lays his head on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

You spend the rest of the night like that before cuddling up in your bed, the two of you discussing baby names, deciding that neither of you care whether it’s a boy or girl.

Nine months later, you welcome your baby girl into the world. Steve is right by your side the entire delivery and seeing you hold her for the first time, he’s sure that you’re going to be an amazing mother and he’s so excited to navigate parenting with you.

[dumpywrites]

Ugh! - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: “Aren’t we done?”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Pure fluff, tsundere Jungkook?, exes that are so not done with each other lol

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

a/n: I wrote this while picturing pouty and bratty Jungkook, so instead of simp Jungkook we ended up with somewhat of a tsundere one lol

It had been officially the first day of waking up being single again after not in seven months. Previously you had been single for a while too, so it was not like this was something new for you, it was just… odd. The wound was still fresh after all. 

Looking at the reflection in the mirror, the first thing you saw was your puffy eyes. You had been crying, bawling your eyes out to sad songs, basically putting alcohol to your freshly cut wound. Life must continue. Even if you were in the verge of losing your mind, you still had to wake up. 

It was your first (and apparently last?) big fight your now ex, Jungkook. You for one, never liked how the guy would doomscroll through tiktok and instagram for hours and hours and ignored you. Not only that, he ended up losing sleep too. Yes, you had your own fair share of consuming social media, same as everyone else, but you never let it disturb your health. Still, he never changed for the better, since the beginning you found out about it. 

So when one day you found out the guy was sent to hospital due to exhaustion, your first reaction was to be upset and pissed, instead of a more logical reaction. The fight ended up spiraling, branching into digging old unresolved frustration you had, worrying about his well being. Jungkook being a stubborn guy he was, turned full defense mode. Then the word was spoken. 

Everything had now led you to this exact moment, where you had to open your door to your ex in the morning, while looking like a complete mess. 

“Do you really need to come this early in the morning?!” You asked, annoyed. 

Jungkook was in his usual black oversized hoodie. You could see his beanie peeking through from underneath, it was in the same pitch black color. He looked like he didn’t even take a shower before showing up. Eye bags could be seen decorating his round doe eyes. 

“My PS5 is here.” He argued. 

“I can just mail it to you or something.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I wanna play the new game I just got!” He walked past you, totally ignoring your scoff. 

“You can’t just do that.” You sighed, following him from the back. 

“You’re dramatic.” He said as he unplugged the console from your TV. 

You watched as he took the controllers and the cables and collected them all in his arms. “You need a bag with that?”

“No.” 

“Alright.”

Once he was done, man stood up as he somehow managed to grab everything in his hands. He looked like he was struggling, but you knew the man too well that he would never let you know about it. Your eyes fell on a few of video game CDs left on your drawer. 

“You sure that’s everything?” 

“Yeah.” He looked at you with a frown. 

“If you say so.” You eyed the games again and shook your head. Somehow refusing to say a thing. “That’s all?”

“Uh-huh.” He said, not moving from where he stood. 

“Then?”

“Then what???” The audacity of this man to sound offended. 

“Why aren’t you leaving?!” 

“Just making sure I didn’t leave anything.” He said and finally made his way to your door. 

There was a very faint hit of his fragrance came to you as he walked right past. You hated how your heart could betray you so quickly because it got you so worked up over the smell. 

You walked him to the door with words unspoken. You swore you saw him almost bending down, like he was gonna kiss you goodbye. It was probably a muscle memory, but he managed to stop himself before doing anything. 

“Bye.” He quickly said. 

“Bye, Jungkook.” You closed the door behind you, avoiding to spend any more second in his eyes. 

The first few days after breakup were supposed to be the hardest. At least that was what you heard from your friends. So, in order to distract yourself and to avoid spending your free time crying, you invited some of your friends to join you for a short karaoke session after work. 

“Explain to me why are you inviting us and why are you paying again?” Somi asked. 

“Jungkook just dumped her.” Mingyu snickered. 

Somi gasped. “I’m so sorry to hear that, are you okay?”

“I dumped him.” You glared at your other friend, correcting him. “I need a distraction.”

“Karaoke, is your idea of distraction?” Mingyu looked at you in disbelief. “Your ex literally has a whole karaoke bar in his house—“

“Shut it.” You put your hand over the guy’s lips, cutting his sentence short. “I can just go with Somi if you don’t want to.”

“Fine, I’m sorry!” The taller guy whined and followed you and Somi to the karaoke room.

Doing karaoke was fun, but it did not do any help. Every song seemed to constantly remind you of him, and you spent the whole two hours holding and containing yourself so it would not show. 

You decided to record an Instagram story. Deep down there was this tiny bit of hope on Jungkook seeing your story, since you didn’t block him and all. Maybe if he saw, he could see how you could have fun without him just fine. 

“I think I lost my voice…” Mingyu said as all of you exited the room. 

“No one asked you to sing three Adele songs in a row.” Somi laughed. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard you sing like that!” You laughed along with the girl. “Thanks for coming though, that was—.”

You were stunned upon seeing who was right in front of the entrance. Your boyf— ex, was walking back and forth, looking antsy. The extremely baggy t-shirt he wore was flowing due to the wind blowing outside, along with his hair. 

“Why are you here?” He asked, posing a dumbfounded expression. 

“That’s my line.” You folded your arms. 

“Can’t I go out with my friends?!” He rolled his eyes. 

“Jungkook, you have a karaoke room in your house.” You rolled your eyes. “Plus I don’t see anyone with you.”

“They’re not here yet.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Somi and Mingyu both eyed each other, seemingly holding their dying laughter. 

“Are you not gonna go inside?” You asked him. 

“Are you not gonna go away already?!” He retorted back.

Maybe you were being sensitive, but there was a slight pang in your chest, hearing him telling you to go away. 

“Jungkook my dude, I honestly thought you were brighter than this.” Mingyu chuckled, dragging you by your shoulder. “Come on miss girl, we are going home now.” 

Somi politely smiled at the guy before running to catch up with you and Mingyu. You glared at him one last time before turning your glance away. 

It was two in the morning that you heard your phone rang on a random Wednesday. You were barely awake and your room was dark enough that made it hard for you to see the caller name. But the heart and bunny emojis were a dead giveaway. You still had not changed his contact name.

“How do you insert back a hoodie drawstring?”

You looked at the hanging clock on the wall again after hearing that ridiculous question. “Do you know what time this is???”

“You borrowed this hoodie last time so maybe you ruined it.” 

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious right now.” You sighed. “That was like what, a month ago?!”

“Yeah, but I haven’t worn it since.” He retorted. 

“Can’t you just look up youtube tutorials or something? I can’t believe you called me just for this…” You complained. 

There was a short pause from the other line before he spoke again. “I’ve tried it, it’s still won’t go in. You fixed my other hoodie before too.”

You sighed again. Knowing the guy, you were sure he was pouting and looking miserable. “Hook a safety pin on one end of the string, that way you can easily slide it through the hole.”

“Alright, I’ll go get a safety pin.”

“Cool, I’m hanging up now.” 

“You’re not gonna wait until I’m done with it?”

“Do I have to?!” 

“Right.” His voice went low. “I’m sorry, thanks for picking up the call though.” He said before ending the call. 

Later on you spent the next hour fighting with yourself on whether you should text him just to ask if he managed to fix his hoodie or not. You ended up falling asleep before you actually send any chat bubble. 

Time passed and the next thing you knew, you were batshit drunk, asking for another shot at the bar with your already ruined makeup. 

You didn’t know why you decided to go drinking alone. Work was getting to you and all the pent up stress was just too much for you to bear for the day. At times like this you would usually call Jungkook, and man would show up at your doorstep no questions asked. No matter the time, he would always be ready to cheer you up. Now with him gone and him being the main reason you were miserable as well, alcohol was calling your name. 

As the bartender fixed you another shot, you took out your phone from the back pocket. Your vision was a bit blurry but you could still make up what was on the screen. There was an unread notification from Jungkook, blabbering about the games he left at your place and that he wanted to pick them up. 

Without much thinking you replied with, “Can’t. Too busy drinking my feelings away.” 

Not even thirty seconds later, a call rang. 

“Hello?” 

“Where even are you???” Jungkook asked. He sounded serious, the tone of his voice was laced with worries. 

“I’m at Joe’s.” You giggled, clearly not thinking straight. You were still sober enough to know what you were doing, but not enough for you to make a logical decision.

There was a long sigh from the other line. “I’ll pick you up.”

“N-No! Kookie— I mean—“ The call was already dead when you protested. 

Your rescue came just around ten to twelve minutes later. Your rescue came in a form of a beautiful man dressed in washed out grey hoodie, ripped jeans, fluffiest hair, who just happened to be your ex. He came to the bar and leaned over to ask the cashier about your order, paying for them. He sighed and turned to your direction again.  

He took you by the wrist. “Let’s go.”

You, undoubtedly still affected by alcohol, started to feel all kinds of things. Looking away, all you said was “No.” 

But you let him drag you from the seat, just silently holding your hand and guiding you to his car. 

The drive was silent and Jungkook didn’t even bother to turn the music player on. You avoided looking at his direction as best as you can, instead you tried to focus on fidgeting your own fingers.

“You sure you can manage on your own?” 

You only nodded. 

“I know I’m not one to talk but please take care of yourself. Don’t go drinking alone like this ever again.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” He sighed, running fingers through his locks. “You sure you can go to your room alone?”

“Why did you come?”

Jungkook looked at you, as if you were speaking in foreign language. 

“Aren’t we done?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want him to leave. Seeing him this close all you wanted was to jump into his embrace and to never ever let go. But as drunk as you were, you were still confused, hurting even. He was so eager to say yes when you asked for a breakup. It just did not make any sense to you as to why he kept reappearing in your life, as if he never wanted to leave in the first place. 

“Kook, aren’t we done?” You repeated. 

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “Look, let me just help you inside.”

And so you let him grabbed you by your shoulder, helping you inside your apartment. He guided you to your couch and fetched a glass of water. You took a few sip of the water and leaned back against the sofa, closing your eyes due to the dizziness. 

“You good?”

You were not. How dare he, asking that question, knowing he was the main reason you were far from being okay in the first place. 

“No.” The alcohol in your system was making you honest. 

Jungkook looked hesitant, but he took a seat next to you. “Want me to stay?”

You couldn’t voice a respond, instead your thoughts wander at the video games that he left, still sitting prettily under the television, now seemingly forgotten yet again. You refused to say a thing. Somehow you hoped it would be his another excuse to keep contacting you. 

“I’ll help you change and then I’ll leave. Okay?”

You barely nodded. He grabbed you by your wrist and helped you to your room. Throughout your relationship you never really got drunk. That was why it when he helped you out of your clothes and gently changed it to a new one, even went for a cotton pad and a makeup remover (after looking for it for a solid five minutes) and helped cleaning your makeup, it made you fell in love with him all over again. 

He watched as you rested your head against your pillow, eyes barely opened. He looked around the room, finding something to do, anything. Anything just to keep him staying longer. 

“Thank you.” You said in an almost whisper. 

“Can I stay?” 

Your eyes widened just a bit but you couldn’t find yourself to refuse his offer. You nodded and hugged your plushie close. 

“I’ll help you change the bedsheets tomorrow.” He said as he joined you in bed next to you. 

He was hesitant at first, but ended up putting his arms over your waist. Both of you fell asleep with him resting his head on yours. The alcohol was definitely playing its part cause if you were sober, you knew you would just spend the rest of the night wide awake, heart bursting out from your chest. 

The morning came with a headache served next to it. The first thing you notice was a light snore, and the next quick seconds you noticed a tattooed arm draped around your body. Looking up all you saw was his long eyelash and his slightly ajar mouth that you wanted so badly to kiss. You did let Jungkook stay the night after all. 

Feeling your body shifting, the man spoke with his eyes still closed shut. “You awake?”

“Yeah.” You replied. “I need to go brush my teeth…” 

Instead Jungkook held you tighter. “Trust me, I’m insecure about my morning breath as well but give me a few more minutes.”

You didn’t say anything back, too afraid he could feel your heart beating rapidly, in which he most probably could. 

“Can I stay?” 

“What do you mean? You’re already here.” 

“No, I mean stay with you.” He finally opened his eyes, vision immediately towards you. “In our relationship…”

Your eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m a stubborn person and I worry you a lot…” He sighed. “I’ll try my best to change, and for that I need you with me.” His arm moved to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

A tear unknowingly escaped your eye and you giggled. The whole seven months of dating him, you had never seen this side of him. Not even at the day he confessed his feelings for you. You never knew how he could be so… sweet. Even sweeter than what you were used to. 

“Hey, don’t cry! I’m sorry…” He swiped your tears with his thumb quickly. 

You responded by hugging him, burying your face on his chest. 

“Uh, so does this mean…?” The boy asked skeptically. 

“I miss you.” You said with voice muffled by the material of his t-shirt. 

A small chuckle left him and his body relaxed, hugging you back. “I miss you too, you have no idea.”

You smiled, pulling away slightly to look at him. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna forget about your games again.”

He smirked. “I knew I left them when I first took my playstation.”

“Then why didn’t you take them?!” 

“I was dragging this out as long as I possibly can.” He sheepishly smiled, cheeks turning pink. “Why do you think I was even at that karaoke bar that day?!”

“I knew that was fishy!” You laughed. “Aww, you really did miss me, huh?”

“Yup.” He squeezed you in a big hug and peppered your face with smooches. 

“Jungkook!” You giggled. 

He suddenly moved to being on your top and caged you in between his arms. An evil smirk visible on his lips. “Ready to see how much I miss you?”

Safe to say he made you stay on the bed just a few hours more. 

Thank you for reading! 🎮

[holyguardian]

That grin was contagious, one glance was all it took for Aerith to mirror the expression with a hint of pride. She wasn't ashamed of her weaknesses so much — perhaps it was a good thing for Somnus to be aware of such things, like her slow descent into chaotic actions when she grew bored of a task.

"... mh. That's a sweet thought." she conceded, gaze lowering to the bound parchment again. Some of the papers were warped from being painted heavily with water strokes. Perfectly imperfect, nothing neat or proper about her soul or true heart. That sounded right. "You are more than welcome to look through them, I'm not precious about guarding my paintings. Though I would rather you look at this one especially." she insisted, giving the bound pages a small wave before passing them to him for safe-keeping. "It's some of the most recent things I have painted, and I find I don't flinch away when I look back at them."

When Aerith lifted her gaze properly to the Prince again, she found herself humming a curious tone as she tilted her head. She followed his own gaze. Her mouth opened around a silent 'ah' of realisation, and for a moment she seemed to gentle in both her expression and her stance.

"This... is my birth father." she answered, captivated by her mother's painting so much so that she continued to look upon it. "He died when I was only a baby. Mum... she did her best. Tried to build a connection to him, I suppose, but... I was so little, I didn't understand that I was missing something, you know?"

Aerith sighed a little, her shoulders melting into a more relaxed posture. Finally she looked back to Somnus again. "I get it now that I'm older. I wish I had gotten the chance to know him in life, but I am blessed to have met his spirit. The one thing I will say is... don't be ashamed of noticing him. For pointing him out, some people are funny about death like that." Though Lucis seemed to honour their dead's memory with great care too.

Amidst their conversation came a gentle knock at the door. Her lady's maid must have heard their voices here. "Princess Aerith, the bath is prepared."

That small announcement made her perk up with a smile. "Thankyou!" she replied, bright-eyed as she looked back to Somnus. "Right. Let's show you how we do bath time here, you're going to need one thing first."

Aerith approached her wardrobe, easily pulling free a couple large robes, one she placed aside and the other she handed to Somnus. "You'll need that. We don't dress ourselves in the same room where we have a bath, the air is steamy, and you're begging for a mess. So, once we're clean, we dry ourselves down as good as we can then we put on that robe. Trust me. They're.. modest." she offered. "It's a little odd, maybe, but we walk like that from the bath, back to our room. It's very uncommon for anyone to just walk a royal wing without good reason, but because it's so obvious among the staff that a bath has been drawn up, I cannot stress enough that no one will see you."

It was her little promise to him.

"Follow me." Aerith offered. She gestured to their shared chamber door. "You will obviously come back and enter through that door. The bath is the first door on the right." She opened up the door and gestured him inside. Inside was a wooden tub, and inside that tub was lined with a white cloth. The water itself was a milky colour and it smelled of flowers, yet another difference from Lucis. "Alright. Sponge there. When you're stepping back out, stand on that folded cloth unless you like to live recklessly, the stone can sometimes be slippery if it's too wet." Then she rolled her wrist. "And enjoy." she offered, smiling as she pulled the door shut behind her, giving him his privacy.

A map of her childhood. And she had just handed him the key to reading it perfectly. Just like that. Somnus could appreciate this fact. His eyes wandering over all the various paintings, he could imagine a smaller Aerith sitting at her table. Probably propped up on her knees with paint all over hands and face already as she focused oh-so-hard on drawing her family.

She must be similar now. It was apparent that she never paused long in her drawings. The table was evidence enough. She still painted. A lot. And she bound her work – forced or not. That was a large part of her… and Somnus liked it.

Grinning at the difference in bindings, he let his fingers trail along the frayed and neat edged for a moment. He wanted to see all her works. But he did not dare to simply take and flip through all these parchments. This was highly… intimate somehow.

“I heard people say they put their souls and true heart in what they paint.”, he mused, looking at her bound artworks, “If you would allow me to see yours one day, I would be honoured.”

The small grin shifting into a smile, Somnus nodded towards the epicentre of it all. The drawing coming from Queen Ifalna. A man with brown hair and a moustache. He looked kind. Funny, a little. But it was no one that Somnus knew.

“Who is he?”

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 1

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled the cozy café, the kind of place that hummed with quiet conversations and the occasional clatter of ceramic cups. Lizzie sat in the corner, tucked into her usual spot by the window,  her mind was elsewhere.

The Laptop was open, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, but the words…the words refused to come. 

Instead, she sipped at her now lukewarm tea, absentmindedly, running her fingers through Mara’s soft fur. Mara’s chocolate coloured head was resting on Lizzie’s knee, watching her, her tail rhythmically thumping against the floor. 

They often came here..nearly every day, to be exact. 

Elizabeth Treshton’s life was built around her routine after all. 

She knew the exact number of steps from her apartment to the cozy coffee shop on the corner. She knew the best seat—by the window, tucked away, where Mara could curl up at her feet while she wrote. And she knew the barista always had her order memorized: earl grey tea with a dash of milk, one sugar, and a small bowl of water for Mara.

They knew them both. They knew not to bother Mara while working, even when it looked like the dog wasn’t working. She was. 

Mara told Lizzie when her body once again decided that having seizures was something it should do and then stayed with her through the whole…shitty ordeal that were said epileptic seizures. 

Still, they thrived on their usual routine. And they hadn’t been able to have that for weeks, because Lizzie had been busy with all the publicity surrounding An Autumn of Flames and Stone and the fact that her little book had reached No. 1 of the New York Times Bestselling list. 

Which meant…that she now got to write the last book in the Seasons of Fate Series…Something that she never thought she would get to do. 

This had been her dream since she was a child…and now…now she finally got to do this. This was her job! Her dream job!

And if this chapter was finally going to start going her way, then maybe Lizzie would be feeling like she actually knew what she was doing too. 

Just at that moment, Mara suddenly lifted her head, ears alert and then stood. Lizzie’s pulse spiked. She waited with baited breath for Mara to tell her that another seizure was incoming, even when Lizzie couldn’t feel anything yet. 

“Mara?” Lizzie murmured, feeling her stomach knot.

Her service dog didn’t react to her voice. Instead, Mara’s attention was locked on something—or someone—across the café. 

Lizzie turned just in time to see Mara move.

Straight toward a guy at the counter.

“Mara, heel!” Lizzie called, already pushing back her chair, heart pounding.

But Mara wasn’t listening.

Mara always listened. Lizzie had not once been in this situation. 

Mara was always well behaved. Mara had been trained so well that this was nothing Lizzie had ever needed to worry about…but apparently that day Mara had decided that her time as picture-perfect seizure dog was over and instead she would run across the cafe, straight to random guy…

The guy turned just as Mara reached him. He was tall, wearing a hoodie pulled up over messy brown curls, and he looked as confused as Lizzie felt when Mara pressed her nose against his hand.

“Oh,” he said, blinking down at her. “Uh. Hi?”

Lizzie practically skidded to a stop beside them. “I’m so sorry—she doesn’t normally—”

And then she got a proper look at him.

Her brain stuttered.

Because that wasn’t just any guy in a hoodie.

That was Lando Norris.

Formula 1 driver. Twitch streamer. Walking, talking social media chaos generator.

She knew who he was. Of course, she bloody knew who he was. 

They were literally in Woking. A stone thrown away from the McLaren Technology Center. 

And even if Lizzie hadn’t grown up seemingly right next to the headquarters of a Formula 1 racing team, she still would have grown up as the daughter of a man that believed that Formula 1 was just as important on Sundays as church services were. 

Her dad was the original F1 fan and Lizzie had easily inherited his love for the sport. 

So to say that she was…a little bit starstruck, because there was Lando freaking Norris standing in front of her, holding a  coffee cup in one hand, a half-eaten croissant in the other, looking between Lizzie and Mara with increasing confusion, was an understatement

“So, uh.” Lando tilted his head. “What’s happening?”

Lizzie swallowed hard, her mind racing. “She’s a service dog,” she managed, her voice tight. “She only does that when—”

Mara insistently pushed her nose against Lando’s hand again. When he didn’t react she started to headbutt his thigh aggressively. 

The realization slammed into Lizzie with the force of a freight train. Mara had alerted to him.

Lando still looked baffled, shifting slightly like he wasn’t sure what to do. “Is—uh—is she okay?”

Lizzie swallowed hard. “I—I think she’s actually asking you that.”

His brow furrowed, then a flicker of something passed over his face. A split-second of realization. “Oh.”

Lizzie watched as Lando’s hand curled slightly, his fingers flexing like he was suddenly hyper-aware of his own body.

“Do you feel off?” she asked, voice softer now. “Lightheaded? Dizzy? Aura?”

His lips parted like he wanted to argue—but then he hesitated. “I mean… I was feeling a bit weird this morning.”

Mara let out another small whine, nosing at his wrist.

Lizzie exhaled sharply. “You need to sit down.”

“I’m fine—”

“Sit. Down. And drink some water, for god’s sake.”

He blinked at her in mild shock, but something in her tone must’ve struck him because he moved, letting her guide him to an empty table.

Lizzie crouched next to him, all business now. “Do you have any underlying medical issues? Mara was trained to alert to my Epilepsy. Have you ever had a seizure?!”

Lando shook his head. “No, nothing like that. But—” He ran a hand through his hair. “I do get migraines sometimes. And sometimes before I get one, things feel… off.”

Oh. 

Lizzie sat back on her heels. “Then she probably picked up on that.”

Lando looked down at Mara, who had now settled next to him, still watching carefully.

“Is this—normal?” he asked.

“For her, yeah.” Lizzie scratched the back of her neck. “She’s trained to detect seizures, but she picks up on other stuff too. She’s never alerted to someone else before, though.”

Lando let out a short laugh, like he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. “Huh. Well, I’m still here, so I think I’m good,” he finally said and Lizzie exhaled. 

“Sorry, about that,” she apologised. “She has never done that before.”

Lando grinned, slow and teasing. “Guess I’m just special, huh?” he teased. 

A pause. Then, hesitantly, Lando reached down, fingers brushing Mara’s head.

“Thanks, I guess,” he murmured. Mara’s tail gave a small, reassuring wag.

“So, like… I am not dying, right?” Lando asked her suddenly, and Lizzie let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head. 

“No. But she’s never wrong about this kind of thing.” Lizzie sighed. “Drink some water. Eat something. Just—don’t ignore it.”

Lando hummed. “Noted.” Then he tilted his head, studying her. “And you are?”

She blinked. “What?”

His smile widened. “Your name. And her name too.”

Lizzie felt warmth creep up her neck.

She bit her lip.

“I am Lizzie. That’s Mara.” 

Lando grinned, like he was committing both names to memory. “Lizzie and Mara. Got it.”

Lizzie wasn’t sure why her stomach flipped at the way he said her name, but she pushed the feeling aside. “And you’re Lando,” she said, more to ground herself than anything else.

His grin widened. “So you do know who I am.”

Lizzie scoffed. “I live in Woking. I’d have to be actively avoiding the internet to not know who you are.”

Lando let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point.” He glanced down at Mara, who had finally relaxed, still keeping a watchful eye on him. “So… does this mean I have, like, a cool dog guardian angel now?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Only if you promise not to ignore your body when it’s telling you something’s wrong.”

He hummed, tapping his fingers against the table. “Noted.”

The café felt warmer than it had before as they looked at each other. Lizzie, still crouched next to Lando and Mara. The air between them felt charged, and Lizzie was suddenly reminded of a fact she had never forgotten: Lando Norris was unfairly attractive.

"So...are you here often or was today my lucky day?"

She blinked at him, caught slightly off guard by the question. “I—uh. Yeah. I’m here most days.”

Lando nodded like that was exactly the answer he was hoping for. “Cool. I might have to come by more often then.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “Because of the coffee? Or because of the dog that just diagnosed you?”

He smirked. “Both. And maybe because the company’s not bad either.”

She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was actually flirting or just naturally charming. Either way, it was… a lot.

Lando hesitated, then scratched the back of his neck. “Look, this might be weird, but—can I give you my number?”

Lizzie’s brain stalled. “What?”

His grin turned a little sheepish. “I mean, you know, in case Mara ever wants to check in on me again. Or, uh, if you ever want to.”

Lizzie exhaled a laugh, shaking her head. “That was smooth.”

“I try,” he said, dimples on full display.

Lizzie couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips, part amused and part baffled at the whole situation. She had gone from sitting in her usual spot, writing away in her notebook as Mara dozed by her feet to now crouching next to a Formula 1 driver giving her his number. What sort of alternate universe was this?

She hesitated, but then Mara nudged her hand, like she was making the decision for her. Lizzie huffed, pulled out her phone, and slid it across the table. “Fine. But if you start texting me memes at 2 AM, I’m blocking you.”

Lando chuckled, tapping in his number before handing it back. “No promises.”

Lizzie glanced down at the contact name he’d put in: Lando ‘Not Dying (Yet)’ Norris.

She sighed. “You’re impossible.”

Lando shot her a cheeky grin as he got to his feet. “It’s part of the charm.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, the smile stubbornly clinging to her face. It only widened when Lando bent down to say a quick goodbye to Mara, who promptly licked his hand in response.

Lizzie shook her head, but she couldn’t quite fight back her smile. “Come on, Mara. Let’s go before you decide to start diagnosing other random strangers too.”

As she walked away, Lando called after her, voice warm with amusement. “See you around, Lizzie.”

She didn’t look back—but her stupid smile stayed all the way home.

***

***

The morning air was crisp, the kind of early autumn chill that made your breath curl in the air but wasn’t quite cold enough for a proper coat. The park was quiet, save for the occasional jogger or dog walker, the golden sunlight filtering through the trees.

Lando arrived a few minutes early—not that he was eager or anything. He just… didn’t want to be late. Which was not the same as being eager.

He shifted on his feet, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie. He wasn’t nervous. Not really. Okay, maybe a little.

It wasn’t a date. Not officially. Just a walk. With a girl. A very cute girl. Who had a dog that might have magical powers if yesterday was anything to go by.

He heard her before he saw her—the sound of Mara’s paws on the pavement, the soft jingle of her collar. Then—

“Morning,” Lizzie said, smiling as she approached. She had a bright red scarf wrapped around her neck, her dark hair pulled up into a messy bun, and Mara trotted happily at her side.

Lando tried not to notice how good she looked or how her smile lit up her face. He was cool. He was casual. He wasn’t a blushing teenager getting flustered over a girl.

He failed utterly.

Lando exhaled, grinning back. “Hey. You actually showed up.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. Mara padded over and sniffed at Lando’s hand, her tail wagging excitedly.

“As if you weren’t expecting me to,” she said, eyes glittering with humor. “Did you really think I’d ditch you?”

Yes. Yes, he had. 

“I dunno. Maybe you’d wake up and realize agreeing to go on a walk with a random guy from a coffee shop was a terrible idea.” 

Lizzie laughed, the sound surprisingly musical. “It probably was. But you’ve got Mara’s seal of approval, so you can’t be too dangerous, right?”

She glanced down at Mara, who panted happily up at Lando, as if in agreement.

"Can I touch her?" he asked carefully. "I should have asked yesterday, I am sorry." He may had spent too much time yesterday reading up on Service Dogs. And what exactly they did for their handlers, especially if they had handlers that had epilepsy like Lizzie had.

Lizzie smiled, her expression softening. “It’s okay. I know it’s not exactly common knowledge.” She nodded. “You can touch her. She’s off-duty right now, so you’re good.”

Lando crouched down, holding a hand out, allowing Mara to sniff him. When she didn’t shrink away, he cautiously patted her on the head. Her fur was silky-smooth to the touch.

"Hello Mara," he greeted her. "I even brought  Peanut Butter for my saviour.”

He probably shouldn't have said that. At the sound of these two words Mara suddenly perked up, immediately sat down before Lando’s feet.

“You shouldn’t say the magic words unless you plan to give some to her right at that exact moment,” Lizzie said drily.

Lando laughed in surprise, looking down at Mara as she sat there, looking up at him expectantly. “She is serious about peanut butter, huh?”

He pulled the jar out of his pocket, unscrewing the cap before holding it out for Mara to sniff. She stuck her nose in it, tail wagging furiously.

“I think she approves,” he said, watching as Mara licked at the peanut butter.

Only after she had been allowed to stick her snout in there for a full 5 seconds was Mara ready to continue their walk. 

“So, how’s the head?” Lizzie asked, tilting her head toward him.

“Better. I took something last night before it got too bad and slept it off.” He glanced down at Mara. “Not sure I would’ve done that if someone hadn’t warned me.”

Lizzie hummed. “She’s good at her job. Even when she has never alerted to somebody else before.” 

Lando tried not to let that go straight to his ego. Tried.

Lando tried to sound casual as he spoke, but couldn’t quite hold back a hint of satisfaction. "I guess that means I’m extra special, then?"

Lizzie raised an eyebrow at that, but there was a laugh in her eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

He chuckled, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “Yeah, too late for that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, just walking together, the sound of the leaves crunching under their feet and Mara’s paws filling the air.

“So, what do you do, exactly?” Lando asked, trying to shift the conversation somewhere less awkward. Though he was pretty sure that the abrupt topic change was not gonna help at all. 

Lizzie smirked. “You mean besides walk dogs?” she joked. 

“Yeah. You know, because you know what I do” He gestured at himself dramatically, trying to be playful. “It’s not fair that you are the big mystery.”

Lizzie laughed and shoook her head. “It’s not fair,” she agreed. “I write books.”

Lando blinked. “What kind of books?” he asked, his curiousity piqued. 

“Romantasy,” Lizzie answered, watching him closely, waiting for a reaction.

What? 

Lando frowned. “Like… romance and fantasy?” Was that a thing?

“Exactly.”

“Is that, like, dragons? Or is it—”

“Faes,” Lizzie supplied. “And magic, and epic love stories, and usually some kind of dramatic war.”

Lando’s eyes widened as she talked, the concept of 'romantasy' sinking in. “Wow. So, like… magic powers and romance and all that good stuff?”

Lizzie nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Pretty much. And there’s always a bit of adventure thrown in for good measure.”

Lando thought for a moment, picturing tales of epic battles and star-crossed lovers. It sounded…. Nice.

“You write those books that people fight over on the internet, don’t you?” he asked. Because he was pretty sure he had seen things about Morally grey love interests and a enemies-to-lovers arc and people fighting with other people about which fictional man was hotter. 

Lizzie’s smile widened, her eyes glittering with humour. “Guilty as charged. I write the books that people have passionate debates over online. The ones where people are way too invested in the love triangle and have very strong opinions about which fictional man is hotter.”

His brows shot up. “Wait—are you, like, famous?”

She shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”

Lando narrowed his eyes, then pulled out his phone and started typing.

Lizzie swatted at his arm. “Are you Googling me?”

“Uh, yeah?”

"What are you evening googling? Lizzie Romantasy?" she asked him with a snort. "You probably won't find me. Try Elizabeth Treshton."

The results for 'Elizabeth Treshton' appeared on the screen, and he scrolled through for a moment, articles and book covers, reviews and interviews popping up.

A moment later he got his answer.

"You sold millions of books."

Lando stared at Lizzie with a mixture of incredulity and awe. "I think that counts as famous."

Lizzie shrugged. “And yet, my dog still expects me to carry her up the stairs when she’s being lazy.”

Mara wagged her tail like she agreed.

Lando laughs, shaking his head. “I have a feeling Mara has you wrapped around her paw.”

She hummed in agreement, her hand going to the end of Mara's leash as the dog stopped to sniff at a tree.

“I swear, she knows exactly how cute she is and uses it to her advantage.”

Lando slipped his phone back into his pocket, shaking his head. “That’s actually really cool. How’d you get into it?”

Lizzie hesitated, then exhaled. “I have epilepsy. Had a lot of seizures when I was younger, which meant a lot of time in hospitals. You get really bored after a while.” She snorted. “So, I kept busy. Told myself stories, read, learned to crochet. But writing stuck. Studied English lit at uni, got a publishing deal right after. I was really lucky.”

Lando nodded. “That’s kinda sick, actually. You get to make stuff up for a living.”

Lizzie chuckled. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.” She glanced at him. “What about you? What’s it like, racing cars all day?”

He grinned. “Honestly? A lot more boring than you’d think.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “You drive 300 kilometers an hour for a living.”

“Yeah, but I also stare at spreadsheets for hours. It’s not all fast cars and cheering crowds.”

“I mean, if you didn’t look at data, I think there would be bigger problems,” Lizzie said, teasing.

He rolled his eyes. “I do look at it, I promise.”

“So, how’d you end up doing that?”

“My mum tried to get me into horses—wasn’t into it. But I wanted to drive. Did quad biking, motorcycle riding… then my dad took me to a kart race, and that was it.”

“That’s sweet. My dad and I have watched F1 together since I was a kid," Lizzie said with a grin.

Lando glanced at her. “Really? That’s awesome. So, are you, like, one of those people who actually knows what’s going on during a race?”

Lizzie grinned. “You’re just mad because I probably know more than you.”

“Impossible,” Lando said, acting affronted. “I drive the car, I know what I’m doing.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “Do you, though?”

He gaped at her. “I can’t believe you just questioned my driving skills.”

She just laughed. “I can’t drive at all, you know.”

“I can teach you,” he offered immediately.

She laughed. “I am legally not allowed to get behind the wheel,” Lizzie told him drily. “Epilepsy, you know. If I get a seizure while driving, I would accidentally murder people,”

“That sucks,” Lando said quietly.

“It’s just one of those things you get used to. You get used to not having control over that part of your life.”

Lando felt a pang of sympathy. “That must be tough.”

Lizzie shrugged. “It is, sometimes. But Mara’s a huge help. And I get by.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Lando said, glancing down at the dog, who was happily leading the way once again.

Lizzie smiled. “She’s the best. And it’s not all bad. Gives me more time to write, at least.”

Lando grinned. “I’m definitely interested in reading some of your work now.”

She laughed. “You are aware that they are all like 500 pages, right?”

Lando groaned dramatically. “You’re telling me you’ve published multiple million-selling books, and they’re all doorstoppers?”

"I am a wordy person, you know," Lizzie shot back.

Lando groaned again, but he smiled, too. “You’re making me work for it here.”

Lizzie just shrugged, her mouth curving into a smirk. “You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

” Lando grinned, already planning his next move. “Alright, super important question,” he said, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket.

Lizzie raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Who’s your favorite F1 driver?”

She let out a soft laugh. “You really want to know?”

Lando nodded, deadly serious. “This is crucial information. Make or break.”

She laughed, a strand of dark chocolate brown hair escaping her bun. 

“My dad is a die hard Ferrari fan,” she told him. “Seriously. Like you know that quote that there are only two religions in Italy, Catholicism and Ferrari? That’s pretty much my dad,” she said with a shake of her heard. “So for him it was always Schumacher…

As they strolled through the park, Mara trotting ahead with her nose to the ground, Lando shot Lizzie a sideways glance.

Lizzie hummed, drawing out the suspense. “When I was little, I loved Kimi Raikkonen.”

Lando groaned. “Kimi? Seriously?!?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “You asked! I was, like, ten. You weren’t even in F1 yet.”

“Still hurts,” Lando muttered. “Alright, fine. What about now? Who’s your current favorite?”

Lizzie smirked. “Are you asking because you want me to say you?”

He feigned innocence. “Noooo… but also, yes.”

She pretended to consider. “Well, I do appreciate drivers with great car control and a smooth racing style.”

Lando’s grin stretched wide. “That does sound familiar—”

“Which is why I love watching Lewis.”

Lando gasped, scandalized. “Lizzie, what the hell?”

She laughed. “What? He’s a seven-time world champion! You can’t be mad at me for that.”

“I can definitely be mad at you for that.” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “I thought we had something special.”

Lizzie smirked. “Would it make you feel better if I said you’re my favorite driver I’ve ever gone on a walk with?”

Lando narrowed his eyes at her, fighting a smile. “Barely.”

***

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

•Disease

Viktor x God/ess!reader

Synopsis-Viktor is in the verge of death, only a forgotten god can bring him back; what’s his fate?

cw- character death, bad writing, god!reader, writer watched what if when she started this, sexual undertones, kissing, reader is referred as ‘you’, uhhh I gen don’t know what else to put 😭

“I could be the doctor, I can cure your disease…”

Mortals. Primitive, selfish beings, they take so much but give so little. They don’t know it always comes back to bite them in the end.

Jayce eyes shoot open taking in painful gasps of air, delirious he stands up on wobbly legs. Looking around he’s horrified by the carnage that surrounded him. Where the council room once stood only rubble and mangled corpses of the councilors take its place. His breathing quickened, Mel. He searched frantically finding her incoherent, he helped her to her feet before his heart stopped. Viktor.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Jayce cursed himself before he realized he found his best friend, his partner's body; broken and bloody. Jayce ran towards the dying man. “No, no Vik come on stay with me.” The Talis boy cried, ripping Viktors dirty button, pushing up and down on his chest, hearing the crack of a rib with every compression he gave. His vision went blurry with tears. Viktor couldn’t die, Jayce wouldn’t let him. This isn’t working. I need to get to the lab. Was all Jayce could think, lifting Viktor off the floor racing to their lab.

He threw Viktor down, going through everything he possibly could to save him. There was nothing. How could this be? All those endless nights in the lab, countless nights gone with sleep, how many times they had to run over their morals for the greater good. How could this be? Jayce slammed his hands down on the stretcher Viktors body lies. He hadn’t realized he began crying again. And this time he couldn’t stop. “Please, please, anyone save him. Save my partner. Save Viktor.” He cried out into the air, it was insane, he knew nothing could hear him, help him. He was alone.

•

•

•

“Save him…. Save Viktor.”

Your ears rang over and over, the same phrase repeated over and over and over again until it was scorched into your brain. “Fine. Fine, Fine!” You grimaced walking up the invisible stairs into a room unlike any other; a room full of mirrors all differing in shapes and sizes.

You could see into any universe through these mirrors , anywhere anytime, everywhere all at once. You flowed through time and space, keeping the contingency in balance; but the punny little mortal kept disturbing you. Looking through one of the mirrors you touched the middle of the portal closing your eyes focusing all your energy to find that one little speck. Your terrestrial energy hummed around you; your plane of existence shaking all around you as if a glass ball under pressure about to shatter. Gotcha.

The fog of the portal disappeared and in it replaced a beautifully devastating scene, where one single action could create a new branch of reality. But this man doesn’t seem to be doing anything, but cry.

He was quite pitiful. The other man, the one he cried over, close to death if not already there. An essence radiated all through his dying body, you could feel the power he could hold. What a waste of potential.

You listened closely as the male pleaded and pleaded. “Save him,” he wailed. “I’ll do anything, give anything.” But it wasn’t him you wanted.

You bargained with yourself, if you saved the dying man you could have another soul, another disciple. But then your oath, if you broke then who knows what the Watchers would do.

“But, the Watchers haven’t been heard from in millenniums. I’m sure one life does not matter.” You mutter to yourself taking in a deep breath before you reach into the mirror grabbing Viktors hand and pull his soul from his body and bring him into your realm.

Viktor awoke gasping for air, he looked around panic feeling out his nerves. There was nothing, actually nothing but white, he was in a blindingly white room with no doors apparently. He looked down and saw his body, that was definitely not his. Where his metal protected body once was a white void takes his place, it didn’t feel like his body but a replica of what once was. Just as he went to find a way out a voice caught him. “Finally you’re awake I was wondering when you would—“

“Who are you?” Viktor cut you off from giving your gracious welcome speech, he studied you as you gathered yourself from his rude barbaric homosapien ways. You were indescribable, you went above all meanings of magic or logic he has ever known. Your body was like his but different. Colors of deep hue swished through your glorious temple, unlike his body yours blended with the void as if you bent it to your will. You floated around him ten times his size, terrifyingly beautiful.

“I am everything and nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

You don’t answer him, only swaying back and forth studying the statue in front of you, having truly forgotten how little human bodies can be.

“I heard your mortal man beg for your life, pleading for your soul's salvation.. I can give you salvation, Viktor.” You hummed only bringing Viktor deeper into your symphony of madness. “I can cure your disease.”

“What disease.” If all he can say through all this lunacy. “The disease of death.” You continued voiced strained almost as of this was exciting you, the longer you went on the clearer everything became, the blast killed him and this must be his hell.

“If I am to live again there will be a logical– a right way to do it.” Viktor tried to rebuttal your divine interference.

“Nothing can save you, no medicine, nor any human magic. But I can be your anecdote” You moved so fast Viktor couldn’t even catch your face as you moved back and forth.

“What.. I don’t– I don’t believe this.”

“I can make you believe.” You suddenly disappeared just for Viktor to feel a hand drag down his back.

“You are the flesh maggots adore,” you whisper into his ear, hands feeling his body up. “But I can make you so much more.” Your voice entranced him, enchanting his soul. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll transcend any and everything you’ve ever done on that little speck of a planet of yours.”

“How?”

Gosh the questions have mortals always been this annoying?

“I’ll merge the smallest piece of my soul and I'll exchange and you will give me yours.” You explain an exaggerated smile stitched on your small, your face muscles strain he was concerned for you, they would surely cramp if you continued.

“My what?”

“Oh my— your soul. What else?” You look at him as if he was an insolent child and to you he was.

Viktor, well he was calculating whether or not this could be real or not. How out of 1 million probabilities this is the afterlife he was stuck with and if he was lucky this is all a dream and he’ll awake in a hospital, maybe a little sore, but definitely not survived by a forgotten god. As if hearing his thoughts the creature before him pushed him on the ground, straddling him.

“Forgotten’s a harsh word, I’d like to think of it as temporarily disposed of. And like I said before,” you spoke softly, hands caressing his shoulders and face, Viktor’s stomach clenched an unfamiliar and unwelcome warmth filling his body. “No human medicine will work for you. Only I can help you, so let me cure you.” You looked into his eyes, no deeper. It was as if you were connecting with his very being, so he definitely wasn’t thinking with the next words he uttered.

“Fine.”

He gave in way quicker than you thought, you smiled delighted. Getting off of him quickly and lead him to another place of whatever plane of existence you were on. This time there was one thing, a huge pitch black temple, the sculpture looks as if made at the depths of Tartarus. It made one quite unsettled how off it looked compared to the heavenly light that could burn one’s eyes out blazing behind it.

But one thing Viktor was thinking, was how big this place is.

When you two reached the temple and he looked back to you, you had a much more serious expression, your angelic features scrunching up to make an unnatural scowl. He could tell you were never meant to be unhappy.

“Kneel.” Your instruction cut through his ears, slicing his eardrums. Your demand was quite painful. You looked back remorse painting your eyes. But you had to remain in control.

As you knelt beside him you dipped your hand into a golden dish filled with water as pitch as the temple. He hadn’t even realized what was in front of them. An altar. Dawned with candles that never melted, flowers that never wilted, fruit that would never rot. Unfamiliar Oil aromas mixed into his nostrils. Four cups each different in size and style sit on their own corner on the altarpiece. Who knew immortal beings have their own gods?

“Please ancient gods, forgive us for our mortal sins…” you whispered an unintelligible prayer, dipping in the gold dish four separate times kissing your hands in between the dips. You poured all different elements along with the water into a different golden cup. Then you grabbed each chalice and poured blood-like tar out of each speaking what Viktor assumed were names, that even he couldn’t pronounce.

“As you have sacrificed for us we shall for you.”

That caught his attention. He couldn’t even speak when you grab his hand and without a knife cut his hand open with the tip of your fingernail. “W-wha…” He couldn’t even speak as you did the same, your blood pouring out the same as he. He held his hand hissing at the burning pain and you just groaned, snatching his hand back. “Stop being a baby.” You say healing the cut with a wave of your hand over his.

“Now drink.” She said, bringing the golden chalice to his lips deaconing him on. His lips touched the liquid gulping four times, it was bitter and tasted like death.

He watched you as you downed the rest, the red drink dripping down your chest. You look back at him, a new ferocity freed from your soul, grabbing the sides of his perfectly aligned face and smash your lips into his. Viktor was taken aback, he tried to push you away but you were too strong and suddenly he found himself falling into the kiss. Your warm muscle found his lips parting them biting his lip so hard he bleed the metallic taste feeling up your mouth and before he could try and push away it felt as if something was being shoved down his throat. It was excruciating, excessive, euphoric.

As you merged yourself using all your will to not consume his entire being, Viktor felt as if he was at the top of the world. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy, never having felt this much pleasure before it was unreal, unnatural and he needed more.

He grabbed your arms pulling your inhabited body closer, his body sparked a new energy, a powerful energy all through your body, it made you lust for more. Your soul's powerful emergence created a light, The light that was both of you, burned brighter and brighter until it combusted stabbing the white voided room into a black hole.

And then Viktor was gone.

•

•

•

“They broke the oath.” A deep, dark voice spoke.

“This cannot be.” A jittery one shuttered.

“An act of rebellion I tell you. Who knows any deity now will think they can do whatever they want no respect—“ An old shriveled on spouted on and on.

“Quiet.” Said the fourth voice, all falling silent . “They will be dealt with accordingly, but first let’s see what they are planning…..”

Mortals are not the only ones who take things and never give back, Gods are the only real selfish ones; but they never know until the very end.

[etherealrin]

⋆.˚ call it what you want.

in which proplayer!sae could care less about what the media was calling you two, if it means being with you again

warnings: none // wc: 647

note: fem reader! badly proofread

the star midfielder of re al, itoshi sae, has a spotless reputation. there wasn't a single stain on his image, not one rumor or dating scandal. it was a matter of heated debate online; there were multiple twitter threads regarding sae's love life. was he truly single? perhaps not into women at all? did he have a secret relationship with another celebrity? if he did, he was remarkably good at never being caught.

so when a photograph of sae leading a girl to a secluded room, shot at an angle where one could only see a flash of glimmering hair, goes viral, the entire internet was wholly appalled.

sae scoffs as you read another article from your phone's news feed to him. "hey, look at this!" your tone is joking as you point towards the device's screen. "they're questioning if i'm some top hollywood celeb. is it because i dyed my hair recently?"

"love, that's stupid. you know dispatch reports more lies than truths." he replies, nose wrinkling at the thought. sure, you were beautiful, more so than any actress, but he really didn't enjoy all of the media speculation he recieved. was it so wrong of him to want something normal, to have a private relationship?

you'd known sae since before he went to spain, when you were just two simple kids trying to go through life the right way. when he had left, it'd caused a huge buzz in your town, japan finally receiving international attention for football. and you'd long since been regarded as sae's closest friend, so everyone was clamoring to ask you: would he ever come back? the drama queens threw their fits (sae had no shortage of admirers even then), many people called you a liar when you said that you didn't know, the pressure caused you to isolate yourself—done with how nosy the world was being. and of course, you missed sae more than anything. you'd mindlessly twist your fingers through the silver necklace he gifted you right before his flight, the 冴 character shining in the pale moonlight. no one else knew the words he'd suddenly whispered into your ears before he boarded without sparing a glance back; "i love you, i'll swear i'll see you again."

you'd kept that necklace for years, until itoshi sae appeared in japan once more, to play for a mysterious soccer match; and a front row ticket was mysteriously sent to your email. which you had never changed from before he left. nervous anticipation floods you, you were about to see your best friend who you hadn't heard from in years. when you finally spot him on the field, he looked nothing less than a daydream, dark pink locks impossibly perfect even against the wind and sweat. as he's being introduced, sae's gaze somehow found you amongst the crowd—you might have died. though he knew you would show up, he couldn't help but look for extra assurance. and you couldn't have predicted the whirl of events that happened after. his manager pulling you aside, saying that "itoshi sae needs to meet you," sae walking towards you with his head down, evidently trying to avoid the paparazzi, grabbing your hands and guiding you into an empty interviewing room; teal eyes glimmering with unsaid words.

your lips inevitably crashed into each other, you both had heard the cameras click and seen the flash of brilliant white, but none of you cared. "at least i did one thing right," is what sae had murmured after a few minutes, deft fingers tracing across your cheeks. his eyes flickered over the chain he gave you, one you'd never taken off. the media could call it what they wanted, because in that moment it was only you and sae. though perhaps it had always been that way—all it took was for one of you to see it.

a/n: dude i'm so obsessed w this song rn. also i finally stopped slandering sae who would've thought this day would come so soon!

masterlist.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every life ࿐‧₊ worst logan - imperfect for you pt.2

chapter summary: You and Laura find yourselves in the void. A few months later, Wade—who claims to be from your universe, and a different Logan appear with a way out.

word count: 13.7k+ (31k+ total)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: alright! this is the second part... to the second part. all the warnings/tags are the same! and take this as your warning-this is split in two parts! it's too long for tumblr to fit in one post!

(also, i know that it's 10 pm est, but i felt like i had to put this out now after watching lady gaga and bruno mars' performance at the grammy's)

warnings/tags: canon to 'deadpool and wolverine', black widow!reader, worst!logan, laura calls reader mom, violence, heavy angst, detached!reader, loverboy!logan, slow burn, fluff, wade wilson interruption, happy ending, not proofread

series masterlist - part 2

You had been to Italy a few times, never of course to see the sights. But Logan insisted, not caring that the mission was over and the two of you were supposed to be going back to the mansion.

“C’mon,” he murmured against your lips, pressing another chaste kiss against them. “I’ll show you around.”

"Do you even know where we’re goin’?" you asked, raising a skeptical brow as Logan laced his fingers through yours, tugging you along the cobblestone streets of Rome.

"’Course I do," he muttered, but the way his eyes flicked between the street signs said otherwise.

You smirked, leaning into his side. "Uh-huh. So, what’s the plan? Wander around aimlessly ‘til we find somethin’ interesting?"

"Pretty much," he admitted, bringing your joined hands up to press a kiss against your knuckles. "Not like we’re in a rush."

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "Charles is gonna kill us when we get back."

Logan scoffed. "What’s he gonna do? Give me a disapproving look? Put me in time-out?" He squeezed your hand. "C’mon, darlin’. When’s the last time we had a real vacation?"

You exhaled, looking around. The warm glow of streetlights reflected off the damp stone, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread and espresso. It was peaceful. Normal.

You nudged him with your shoulder. "You’re lucky I like you."

He smirked. "Damn right I am." Logan leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Plus, it helps I got a girl who can speak Italian."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Yeah? And how exactly does that help you?"

Logan squeezed your hand, guiding you through the winding streets. "Means I don’t gotta fumble my way through orderin’ dinner."

You snorted. "So that’s why you’re keeping me around? For food?"

"Pretty much," he said, smirking. "That and the company."

You hummed, pretending to consider. "Could’ve just hired a translator."

Logan stopped walking, turning to face you with that look—the one that made your stomach flip, the one that told you he was serious even when his words weren’t. "Don’t need a translator. Need you."

Your breath hitched, but you covered it with a scoff, nudging him playfully. But before you could get out a word he spoke again.

“Let’s get married.”

You blinked at Logan, unsure if you’d heard him right. “What?”

Logan didn’t flinch. He just stood there, watching you with that same calm intensity he always had. “Let’s get married.”

A laugh escaped you, unbidden, half incredulous, half breathless. “You drunk already?”

Logan smirked. “Not yet.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “Logan—”

“I’m serious.” He stepped closer, taking your hands in his. “I know you know about the damn ring.”

Your breath hitched.

You did know.

You’d found it once, hidden away in his things. A simple gold band, unassuming, well-worn. You hadn’t asked about it at the time, but part of you had known—Logan didn’t keep things unless they mattered.

Your fingers curled around his. “You’ve had that ring for years.”

“Longer,” he admitted. “First time I met you, I bought it.”

Something in your chest tightened. “Logan.”

“I’ve lost a lot,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, rougher. “Too much. But you keep coming back to me. Life after life. And I keep finding you.”

Your throat felt tight. “This isn’t like the other times.”

Logan shook his head. “No. It ain’t. This time, I’m not gonna waste any more of it.”

You searched his face, looking for hesitation, doubt—anything that might tell you he was caught up in the moment. But there was nothing. Just certainty.

A quiet, stunned laugh escaped you. “You want to get married. Right now?”

“Why the hell not?” He grinned. “We got a whole city to ourselves. We’ve both seen enough shit to know waiting doesn’t always do us any favors.”

You exhaled, tilting your head. “You don’t even have the ring on you.”

Logan pulled his hand from yours, reached into his pocket, and held it up between his fingers. “You sure about that?”

Your heart nearly stopped.

“You carry it around?”

“Every damn day.”

You stared at him, at the way he was just standing there, so unshaken, so sure, like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

Maybe he had.

And maybe, just maybe, so had you.

“Alright,” you breathed. “Let’s do it.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, shaking your head, laughing under your breath. “Let’s get married.”

---

The church was small—hidden in the quieter part of the city, far from the crowds of tourists. The old priest inside raised a brow when you and Logan walked in, but he didn’t ask many questions.

Logan held your hand the entire time, his thumb tracing idle circles against your skin. When the priest asked if you were ready, Logan squeezed your fingers, just once.

Neither of you had vows prepared—there hadn’t been time for that. But you didn’t need them.

“You already know what you mean to me,” Logan murmured, slipping the ring onto your finger. “Don’t need words to prove it.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, looking down at the band that fit so perfectly. Then you looked back at him, that same familiar, stubborn, impossible man you had known for years.

You curled your fingers around his hand. “Good. Because I don’t have anything poetic either.”

Logan chuckled. “Don’t need poetic.”

You smiled, lifting your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Then let’s just get to the part where they say we’re stuck with each other.”

Logan smirked. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The priest gave a small, amused shake of his head before speaking the final words. And just like that, it was done.

Married.

You turned to Logan, your new husband, and before he could say anything, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss.

He made a noise of surprise, but it didn’t take him long to catch up, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. His lips were warm, familiar, and when he broke away just enough to murmur against your mouth, his voice was thick with something you couldn’t name.

“’Bout damn time.”

You laughed, forehead resting against his. “Yeah,” you whispered. “It is.”

Logan cupped your jaw, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re mine now.”

You smirked. “Always was.”

He kissed you again, and this time, neither of you were in any rush to pull away.

---

You woke up, not with a start, just a slow realization that it was a dream—a memory.

The ceiling fan above you spun in lazy circles, the dim morning light filtering through the blinds. The scent of saltwater lingered in the air, mixing with the faintest trace of lemon cleaner from Laura’s half-hearted attempt at tidying up the place. For a second, you could still feel Logan’s hand in yours, the weight of the ring on your finger, the warmth of his breath against your lips.

But it wasn’t real. Not anymore.

You exhaled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before pushing yourself up. The bed was too big, too empty. You swung your legs over the side, the cool floor grounding you in the present.

A quiet knock sounded at the door. “Mom?”

You sighed, rolling your shoulders before standing. “Yeah?”

Laura cracked the door open, already dressed, her sunglasses perched on top of her head. “You okay?”

You huffed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah. Why?”

Laura leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You were making that face again.”

You raised a brow. “What face?”

“The sad, I’m thinking about him again face.”

You snorted. “That’s not a thing.”

Laura shrugged. “Sure.”

Shaking your head, you moved past her and into the kitchen. “You eat?”

She grabbed an apple from the counter, biting into it as she hopped onto a stool. “Yeah. You?”

“Not yet.” You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the bitter scent filling the air.

Laura studied you for a second before speaking. “You had another dream, didn’t you?”

You took a sip of coffee before answering. “Maybe.”

Laura didn’t push, just nodded. “Was it a good one?”

Your fingers curled around the mug. “Yeah.”

She chewed her apple slowly, then said, “You think he ever dreamed about you?”

You swallowed, setting the mug down. “I know he did.”

Laura was quiet for a moment before hopping off the stool. “You wanna do something today? Beach, maybe?”

You glanced out the window at the waves rolling against the shore. The idea of a normal day, of pretending for just a little while longer, didn’t sound too bad. “Yeah. Beach sounds good.”

Laura nodded. “Cool. I’ll grab the towels.”

As she walked away, you let out a slow breath, staring at the coffee in your hands. The dream still clung to you, the weight of it settling deep in your chest.

You shook it off.

For now, there was the beach.

For now, there was Laura.

And for now, that was enough.

---

Logan exhaled, the cigarette between his fingers burning low. The Florida heat clung to him, sweat beading at the back of his neck as he leaned against the hood of his truck.

She was in there.

He knew her routine now—when she worked, when she shopped, when she left the house. He told himself he wasn’t stalking, that he was just waiting. But waiting for what, exactly? For her to acknowledge him? For her to let him in?

Wade had called him an idiot for sticking around. Said he was wasting his time. Maybe he was.

But maybe he wasn’t.

He took a slow drag, watching as a familiar car pulled out of the driveway. She was driving. Laura was in the passenger seat, sunglasses on, arms crossed, probably bitching about something.

Logan smirked.

He let the cigarette drop, crushing it under his boot as he pushed off the truck.

They weren’t running.

And as long as they weren’t running, he wasn’t leaving.

---

You stared at him, unabashedly. Something you only did when you were going to scold him for something.

“What?” Logan asked, turning to face you.

You crawled down the bed before sitting at the edge of it, chin in your hand, glasses slipping down your nose. “Why do you have to go to the bar? You could…”

Logan, who had just finished pulling his boots on, paused mid-motion. His brow lifted as he looked at you over his shoulder. “I could… what?”

You shrugged, pushing your glasses up absentmindedly. “I don’t know. Stay.”

Logan snorted, shaking his head as he grabbed his jacket. “What, and listen to Scott ramble about team-building exercises? No thanks.”

You huffed, tilting your head. “You could grade papers.”

He let out a short laugh, shrugging on his jacket. “Yeah, ‘cause that sounds like a real fun time.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your hands. “You wouldn’t have to grade them. You could just… be here.”

Logan’s movements slowed slightly as he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket. He didn’t say anything right away, just stood there, like he was debating whether or not to argue. Then, with a sigh, he turned, arms crossed. “What’s this really about, Y/N?”

You hesitated, tapping your fingers against the blanket. “Nothing. Just thought maybe, for once, you wouldn’t leave as soon as classes were done.”

Logan studied you, his expression softening. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I just…” You trailed off, realizing how ridiculous you sounded. You weren’t clingy—at least, you didn’t think you were. But Logan was always leaving. Always heading off somewhere, whether it was a bar, a mission, or just to be alone. And even though you knew that was just the way he was, it didn’t mean you liked it.

Logan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Darlin’…”

“Never mind,” you said quickly, pushing yourself off the bed. “Forget I said anything.”

Logan caught your wrist before you could move past him, his grip firm but gentle. “Hey.” His voice was quieter now. “I didn’t mean—”

You shook your head, pulling your wrist free. “It’s fine, Logan. Go.”

His jaw clenched slightly, like he wanted to argue, but instead, he just stood there, watching as you walked past him.

You didn’t slam the door behind you, but you wanted to.

---

Logan woke up with a sharp inhale, the remnants of the dream lingering in his chest like a dull ache.

He stared at the ceiling, his breathing evening out as he tried to push the memory away. But it clung to him, heavy and persistent.

You weren’t her. And he wasn’t your Logan.

But that didn’t make it any easier.

With a grunt, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face before reaching for the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the nightstand.

He paused, staring at it for a long moment before setting it back down.

Outside, the Florida heat was already creeping in, the morning sun casting long shadows across the floor. He didn’t know what the hell he was still doing here.

But he wasn’t leaving.

Not yet.

---

The ocean breeze rolled in slow and steady, carrying the scent of salt and sunscreen as you leaned back against your towel. The Florida sun wasn’t unbearable, but it was warm enough to make you drowsy. Laura sat beside you, picking lazily at the label of her water bottle, her sunglasses shielding her eyes.

It had been a good day. The kind of day you never thought you’d have—normal, easy.

Until he showed up.

Laura was the first to notice. She didn’t say anything at first, just hummed softly before muttering, “He’s here.”

You frowned, not even opening your eyes. “Who?”

“Who do you think?”

Your stomach twisted, but you kept your expression neutral as you cracked one eye open. Sure enough, Logan stood a few yards away, leaning against a wooden post near the boardwalk. He wasn’t looking directly at you—just gazing out at the water, arms crossed, the picture of casual indifference.

It was bullshit.

You sighed, rubbing your fingers against your temple. “He’s not gonna leave, is he?”

Laura took a slow sip of her water. “Nope.”

You sat up, adjusting your sunglasses as you shot him a glare. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you knew he knew you saw him.

Laura smirked. “You gonna say something, or just keep making angry faces at him?”

“I’m not making angry faces,” you muttered.

“You are.”

You ignored her, pushing yourself up. You dusted the sand off your legs before heading toward him, your steps slow and deliberate. Logan didn’t move until you were right in front of him. Only then did he glance down, his expression unreadable.

“You lost?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Logan smirked. “Nah. Just enjoyin’ the view.”

You scoffed. “Right.”

Silence stretched between you, the sound of waves crashing filling the space where words should have been. Logan shifted slightly, but he didn’t back off.

“You gonna keep following me?” you asked, your voice low.

Logan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Ain’t followin’ you, darlin’. Just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

You arched a brow. “Really? You just happened to be at this exact beach, at this exact moment?”

“Guess it’s my lucky day,” he drawled.

You clenched your jaw, debating if you should just turn around and walk away. But something about the way he was looking at you—calm, patient, stubborn as ever—made your skin prickle.

“You waiting for me to say something?” you asked.

Logan shrugged. “Figured you might.”

You inhaled sharply, taking a step closer. “I said goodbye, Logan. You’re the one who won’t let it go.”

His expression didn’t change. “Yeah, you said goodbye. I just didn’t listen.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, studying you. “I know enough.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

Before he could respond, Laura called out from behind you. “Are you done flirting, or should I come back later?”

Your head snapped toward her. “Laura.”

She just shrugged, completely unfazed. “What? I’m just saying.”

Logan smirked, and you turned back to him, pointing a finger at his chest. “Don’t.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk didn’t fade.

You huffed. “If you’re gonna keep hanging around, at least be useful and stay out of my way.”

Logan’s gaze flickered over you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, with an infuriating amount of ease, he said, “No promises.”

You clenched your fists, exhaling through your nose before turning sharply on your heel and walking back toward Laura.

She was still smirking when you sat down.

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

Laura leaned back on her elbows, tilting her head toward Logan. “You know, you could just talk to him like a normal person.”

You ripped open a bag of chips with more force than necessary. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

Laura hummed. “Then why’d you go over there?”

You froze mid-chew before shooting her a glare. “You are so grounded.”

Laura snorted. “Good luck enforcing that.”

You muttered something under your breath, throwing another glance at Logan, who was still standing in the same damn spot, watching the ocean like he had all the time in the world.

You hated how much it felt like he belonged there.

Laura smirked again, popping a chip into her mouth. “You’re gonna have to deal with this at some point, you know.”

You exhaled sharply. “Not today.”

“Yeah,” Laura murmured, staring at Logan. “We’ll see.”

---

It had been a week since the beach. Another week of pretending Logan wasn’t lurking in the background, watching but never interfering. Another week of Laura making way too many smug comments.

You ignored both of them.

Mostly.

Right now, you were more focused on getting home before the storm rolling in had the chance to flood the streets. Florida weather was unpredictable as hell—one minute sunny, the next a full-blown hurricane. The dark clouds overhead rumbled, lightning flashing in the distance as you pulled out of the school parking lot.

You had just turned onto the main road when the car jolted.

Then, the all-too-familiar thunk-thunk-thunk of a flat tire.

You let out a slow, controlled breath through your nose. “Of course.”

You pulled over onto the shoulder, gripping the wheel for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. This was fine. You could handle this.

The moment you stepped out, the humidity hit you like a wall. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of rain and asphalt. You crouched, assessing the damage. The back tire was completely shot, rubber torn to hell.

You sighed, pushing your hair away from your face. “Just needed one more week, you piece of shit,” you muttered, kicking the tire lightly before heading to the trunk for the spare.

A familiar rumble of an engine approached.

You froze for half a second before gritting your teeth.

Not even five minutes and he was here.

Logan’s truck slowed to a stop behind you. You didn’t have to turn around to know he was already climbing out, probably looking all smug and self-satisfied.

“Need a hand?”

You exhaled through your nose before straightening up and turning to face him. “No.”

Logan tilted his head, hands on his hips as he looked from you to the tire. “You sure? ‘Cause that looks pretty fucked.”

“I got it,” you said, crossing your arms.

Logan nodded, clearly not convinced. He watched as you popped the trunk, grabbed the spare, and then crouched back down to remove the damaged tire. You worked quickly, efficiently—this wasn’t exactly your first time handling something like this.

Logan leaned against his truck, arms crossed. “Y’know, most people would just say ‘thanks.’”

You didn’t even glance at him. “Most people aren’t me.”

Logan smirked. “No argument there.”

You ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. A bolt was being stubborn, refusing to budge. You adjusted your grip, using more force—nothing.

Logan pushed off his truck, strolling over. “Want me to—”

You stood up, cutting him off. “I swear to God, Logan, if you—”

Thunder cracked overhead, and the sky opened up.

Within seconds, you were both drenched.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as cold rain soaked through your clothes.

Logan exhaled a short laugh. “Well. That’s unfortunate.”

You snapped your head toward him, glaring. “Really?”

He smirked, completely unfazed by the downpour. “What? You don’t like the rain?”

You huffed, brushing wet hair from your face before crouching back down. “Just shut up and let me work.”

Logan didn’t. Instead, he crouched beside you, reaching for the stubborn bolt.

You swatted his hand away. “I said I got it.”

He just looked at you, unimpressed. “It’s rusted. You need more leverage.”

“I know that.”

Logan didn’t argue. He just waited.

You exhaled sharply before finally moving aside, just enough for him to take over.

With one sharp twist, the bolt loosened.

You clenched your jaw. “Show-off.”

Logan smirked. “You loosened it for me.”

You rolled your eyes, but together, the two of you worked in sync—removing the damaged tire, fitting the spare, tightening the bolts. It was quick, practiced, almost too easy.

By the time you finished, the rain had slowed, leaving the both of you completely soaked.

Logan stood, brushing water from his arms. “Could’ve just let me do the whole thing.”

You shut the trunk with more force than necessary. “Could’ve just driven past and minded your own damn business.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

You glared at him, but before you could respond, another engine rumbled down the road.

A blue sedan slowed beside you. The passenger window rolled down, revealing an older woman with a concerned expression.

“Everything alright, dear?” she asked, eyes flicking between you and Logan.

You forced a polite smile. “Yeah, I—”

“She’s fine,” Logan interrupted.

You turned sharply toward him. “Excuse you?”

Logan ignored you, giving the woman a nod. “Just a flat. All good now.”

The woman hesitated, glancing at you again before nodding slowly. “Alright, if you’re sure. Stay safe.”

The moment she drove off, you turned to Logan, scowling. “What the hell was that?”

Logan shrugged. “What? You were fine.”

You threw your hands up. “And I couldn’t say that myself?”

Logan smirked. “You could’ve, but you were takin’ too long.”

You huffed, rubbing your temples. “You are insufferable.”

Logan grinned. “And yet, here you are.”

You took a slow breath, reining in your frustration. “Are we done here?”

Logan looked you over, still clearly amused. “Need me to follow you home? Just in case?”

“I’d rather drive off a bridge.”

“Bit dramatic, don’t ya think?”

You turned toward your car, muttering, “Go to hell, Logan.”

He chuckled, stepping back toward his truck. “I’ll see you around, darlin’.”

You didn’t respond, just slammed the driver’s door shut before pulling back onto the road.

When you glanced in the rearview mirror, Logan was still standing there, watching.

And damn it, you hated the way it made your chest tighten.

---

Laura was already sitting on the couch when you walked through the front door, damp clothes clinging to your skin, rain still dripping from your hair. She took one look at you—soaked, pissed off, barely holding yourself together—and sighed.

"You let him help, didn’t you?"

You dropped your keys on the counter with more force than necessary. "No."

Laura arched a brow.

You clenched your jaw, yanking open the fridge just to give yourself something to do. "Fine. Kind of."

Laura smirked. "Figured."

You grabbed a water bottle and shut the fridge, exhaling sharply. "He just happened to be there."

"Uh-huh."

You turned, leveling her with a glare. "Don’t start."

Laura held up her hands in mock surrender, but the amusement never left her face. "I’m just saying, for someone who wants him to leave, you sure make it easy for him to stick around."

You threw the water bottle onto the counter. "You think I want him here?"

Laura’s smirk faded slightly, her expression shifting into something more thoughtful. "I think you don’t know what you want."

That did it.

Your patience, already worn thin, snapped.

"You think I don’t know?" you shot back, voice rising. "You think this is easy? That I like having him in the background, watching, waiting, making me remember things I don’t want to remember?"

Laura blinked, caught off guard by the sudden outburst.

You ran a hand through your wet hair, pacing. "Do you know how hard I worked to move on? How hard I tried to build something—anything—that didn’t lead back to him? And now he’s here, and I can’t—" You cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. "I won’t let him pull me back into it."

Laura’s brows pulled together, her voice quieter. "Mom—"

"No," you said, pointing at her. "You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to act like I’m the one making it complicated when he’s the one who won’t leave."

Laura’s jaw tightened. "Maybe he won’t leave because he actually gives a shit."

"That’s not the point!"

"Then what is the point?" she snapped, standing now. "That he’s not our Logan? That he’s not your Logan?"

You flinched.

Laura shook her head. "You keep acting like he’s a ghost, but he’s not. He’s here. And you can keep pretending it doesn’t matter, but it does. He does."

Your chest tightened. "He’s not the man I married."

"No," Laura said, her voice quieter but no less firm. "But he’s still Logan."

Silence.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a vice.

Laura let out a slow breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know you miss him."

Your throat burned. "It doesn’t matter."

"It does."

You shook your head, turning away. "I need to shower."

"Mom—"

"I need to shower, Laura."

She didn’t argue this time. She just watched as you walked toward the bathroom, your legs heavier with every step.

When the door clicked shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, squeezing your eyes shut.

You could still hear his voice in your head, feel the warmth of his hands on yours, see the way he used to look at you—like you were the only thing keeping him steady.

And now he was here. Not your Logan. Not the man you’d built a life with. But Logan all the same.

Laura was right.

But that didn’t mean you were ready to face it.

---

You grunted as you pulled again, trying to unlodge the stubborn screw. “Stupid. Fucking—” A warm hand enveloped yours, you didn’t need to turn around to know who’s. “I got it, kotik.”

He hummed, not condescending, but like he knew you did. “I know. Just lemme help.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose but didn’t fight him when his hand covered yours, his other gripping the wrench. With barely any effort, he turned it, the stubborn screw finally giving way with a sharp creak.

You scowled. “I had it.”

Logan smirked, setting the wrench down. “Sure, sweetheart.”

You huffed, swiping your arm across your forehead, smudging a bit of grease in the process. Logan caught it, his thumb brushing the mark off before you could duck away. His touch lingered, his eyes scanning your face.

“What’s wrong?”

You scoffed, grabbing a rag to wipe your hands. “It was the damn screw you just unlodged.”

Logan’s brow twitched. “Try again.”

You sighed, rolling your shoulders, the tension refusing to ease. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t ask if it was nothing,” he said, arms crossing. “Asked what’s wrong.”

You hesitated, gripping the rag tighter before exhaling. “Scott’s just… piling things on me. Ororo asked me to help out more with the kids during training, which I want to do, but then Scott starts throwing his bullshit at me too. Paperwork, scheduling, grading tests that he’s supposed to be handling." You shook your head. "And now, apparently, I’m also in charge of making sure half the team doesn’t set themselves on fire in the Danger Room.”

Logan nodded slowly. “That all?”

Your jaw clenched. “No.”

He waited, saying nothing. Just watching.

You groaned, tossing the rag onto the workbench. “It’s everything. The mansion, the missions, the meetings—God, the meetings. I swear, if I have to sit through another three-hour debate about whether the Blackbird should have a different paint job, I’m gonna throw myself off the roof.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, stepping closer. “Y’know, you could just tell ‘em to go to hell.”

You snorted. “Yeah, and then Scott would really make my life miserable.”

Logan’s hand found your waist, his grip warm and steady. “Then let me do it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, that would go over great. You storming into a meeting, claws out, telling Summers where to shove his clipboard.”

Logan grinned. “Tempting.”

You sighed, finally leaning into him. “I’m just tired, kotik.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “I know.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. His hand traced slow circles against your lower back, grounding you. The steady rise and fall of his breathing, the quiet hum of the mansion in the distance—it was enough to make you forget the stress, just for a second.

“You should tell him no,” Logan murmured.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “And what? Let the entire school burn down?”

His lips twitched. “Not our problem.”

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. “You say that, but we both know you’d be the first one running in if it did.”

Logan’s smirk softened. “Maybe.”

You sighed, resting your forehead against his chest. “I hate when you’re right.”

“Lucky for you, it ain’t often.”

You smiled against his shirt, letting the exhaustion slip away—at least for now.

---

You woke up to the sound of waves crashing outside, your chest tight, your skin too warm.

For a moment, you forgot where you were. You expected the distant hum of the mansion, the smell of Logan’s aftershave, the warmth of his body beside you.

But the bed was empty. The room was quiet.

And Logan was gone.

You swallowed hard, blinking up at the ceiling.

It was just a dream.

Just a memory.

And that’s all it would ever be.

---

The day passed in a blur. You went through the motions—teaching gym class, keeping the kids in line, pretending like nothing was wrong. Like you hadn’t spent the entire morning haunted by a dream that wasn’t just a dream.

Like Logan hadn’t found you.

You’d seen him again after work. He wasn’t trying to hide this time. He leaned against his truck, arms crossed, watching from across the parking lot. Not approaching. Not leaving. Just waiting.

And it pissed you off.

Laura wasn’t home when you got back. Probably at the beach or grabbing food. You had a few hours to yourself, time to think, time to breathe—

A knock at the door cut through the silence.

You stared at it.

Another knock. Louder this time.

You already knew who it was.

Jaw clenched, you walked over and yanked the door open, grip tight on the handle.

Logan stood there, his expression unreadable. “Hey.”

You didn’t hesitate. “No.”

His brow furrowed. “No?”

You stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind you. “No. Whatever the hell you think you’re doing? No.”

Logan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Ain’t here to start a fight, darlin’.”

“Then why are you here?” you snapped, crossing your arms. “Because if you think I’m just gonna let you hover around like some stray, you’re dead wrong.”

Logan’s jaw flexed. “I just wanna talk.”

“And say the same goddamn bullshit? Here’s the thing,” you gripped the collar of his leather jacket tightly, pulling him slightly closer to you. “I don’t fucking care.”

Logan didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

Your fingers curled tighter around his jacket, the leather warm beneath your grip. “You think this is romantic? You think tailing me for months, showing up at my fucking door, is gonna make me change my mind?” You shoved him back—hard. He barely stumbled. “I don’t care what you have to say, Logan.”

His jaw clenched. “Yeah? Then why’d you open the door?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Because I knew you wouldn’t leave if I didn’t.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not here to fight with you.”

“Then what the hell do you want?” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the humid night air.

He dropped his hand, looking at you like the answer was obvious. “I want to know why you’re lyin’ to yourself.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Jesus, Logan, get over yourself.”

“I ain’t talkin’ about me,” he shot back. “I’m talkin’ about you.”

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms. “I told you—”

“No, you haven’t,” Logan interrupted, stepping closer. “You keep pushin’ me away, but you ain’t sayin’ why.”

“Because I don’t owe you a fucking reason,” you snapped.

Logan studied you, his gaze slow, careful. “It’s ‘cause of him, ain’t it?”

Your stomach twisted, but your expression didn’t falter. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do,” he murmured. “The Logan you lost. The one that was yours.”

Your breath hitched.

Logan’s voice was quieter now, steady but rough. “That’s why you’re runnin’, why you won’t let yourself stop. ‘Cause you think if you do, you’re betrayin’ him.”

You hated how easily he saw through you.

Your throat felt tight, but you forced out a scoff. “You don’t know shit, Logan.”

“I know grief.” His voice was low, weighted. “I know what it does to you. How it makes you feel like movin’ on is some kinda sin.”

You looked away, jaw tight.

“I also know,” he continued, “that it don’t go away. Don’t matter how far you run, how many times you try to start over.” His tone softened, just slightly. “It stays with you. But it don’t mean you gotta stay buried with it.”

Your hands trembled. You curled them into fists to stop it.

“Look at me,” Logan said.

You didn’t.

A rough sigh, then—you felt it. His hand, warm, familiar, pressing against the side of your face. You stiffened, but he didn’t force it, just let his thumb brush against your cheek.

“Darlin’,” Logan murmured. “I ain’t askin’ you to forget him.”

You swallowed hard.

“I just don’t want you to forget yourself.”

Your breath hitched.

You wanted to shove him away again. Wanted to punch him. Wanted to yell and tell him he was wrong.

But the worst part? He wasn’t.

And you fucking hated him for it.

Your eyes stung, but you refused to let them fall.

Finally, you forced yourself to move, pulling back, breaking the contact. “Go home, Logan.”

Logan didn’t move.

You inhaled sharply. “I mean it.”

He studied you for a long moment before nodding once. “Alright.”

Then—he stepped back, hands in his pockets. But he didn’t turn around. Didn’t leave.

Not yet.

His gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in it.

Then, quieter, rougher—

“I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t answer.

And this time, when he walked away—you didn’t watch him go.

---

He could tell you weren’t fully asleep, nor fully awake, when he got back. The lamp on your bedside table was still on, but your glasses were neatly folded on top of your book.

“Hmm? Logan?”

He slipped off his boots and pulled off his shirt before sliding in behind you, gently pushing your shoulder down so you wouldn’t get up. “Yeah. ‘S me.”

"It’s 2 in the morning." Your voice was quiet, thick with sleep. "You’ve been comin’ home later."

Logan exhaled through his nose, running a hand down his face as he settled onto the bed beside you. His body was still warm from the whiskey, the buzz clinging to the edges of his thoughts. He didn’t answer right away, just reached over and turned off your lamp, leaving only the soft glow of the nightlight in the corner.

You shifted, turning onto your side to face him. Even in the dim light, he could see your eyes—heavy with exhaustion but still watching him, still waiting. You always waited.

For months now, you had tried to get him to stay. At first, you asked outright, voice soft but certain—"Stay tonight?" And when that didn’t work, you tried coaxing, offering quiet conversation, little distractions, your presence alone.

Then, when that didn’t work either, it became this.

Half-asleep murmurs. The lingering hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d come home early for once.

But he never did.

"Yeah," Logan muttered, shifting onto his back. "Got caught up."

You huffed, barely a sound, but he felt it more than heard it. "You always do."

Logan stared at the ceiling, jaw tight. He could feel the weight of your gaze on him, the way you were waiting for him to say something—anything—to ease the ache in your chest. But he didn’t. Because he didn’t know how.

The silence stretched between you.

Then, quietly, you spoke again. "You don’t have to go every night."

Logan swallowed, his throat dry. He could lie, say it wasn’t about the bar, say he just needed the air. But you weren’t stupid. You knew what he was doing, why he kept his distance even when he was right here beside you.

So he didn’t say anything at all.

After a beat, you sighed and turned over, your back to him. A clear dismissal.

Logan closed his eyes, listening to the quiet sound of your breathing as you drifted off.

It wasn’t always like this.

At the start, you stayed up for him. You’d wait in the library, curled up with a book, or in the kitchen with tea, pretending you just happened to be awake. You used to smile when he walked in, small and tired but warm. You’d ask how his night was, even when you knew he wouldn’t answer properly.

And then, when you realized nothing changed, you started waiting in bed instead. Eyes heavy but open, glasses slipping down your nose, always murmuring some half-asleep greeting before reaching for him.

Now? Now you barely waited at all.

Logan exhaled, turning his head to look at you. You were already asleep.

Something settled deep in his chest—heavy, uncomfortable.

This wouldn’t last.

You wouldn’t wait forever.

And for the first time, the thought of losing you—of pushing you too far—felt a hell of a lot worse than whatever he was trying to drown at the bottom of a bottle.

---

Logan’s eyes snapped open.

For a second, he was disoriented, still caught in the haze of the dream—no, the memory. He could still feel the warmth of you beside him, still hear your voice, soft and tired, asking him to stay.

But when he blinked, the bedroom was gone.

No mansion. No soft lamp glow.

Just the inside of his truck, the Florida heat creeping in through the cracked window.

Logan let out a slow breath, scrubbing a hand down his face. His body was tense, jaw clenched so tight it ached. The dream had been too real—too damn vivid.

He reached for the flask in the cupholder, unscrewing the cap with steady fingers. He didn’t drink from it. Just held it.

The memory had felt like a lifetime ago. Because it was—but not his. Not this Logan’s.

It was hers.

The woman who wasn’t his Y/N but still had the same voice, the same eyes, the same way of looking at him like he was something worth waiting for.

Except this time?

She wasn’t waiting.

And Logan wasn’t sure if he was ready for what that meant.

---

For the first time in weeks, Logan wasn’t there.

You didn’t see him leaning against his truck outside the school. He wasn’t loitering at the grocery store. He wasn’t in your goddamn peripheral, watching but never pushing, always waiting for you to acknowledge him.

And it pissed you off.

You should’ve been relieved. You had told him to leave, to back off. You had shoved him, yelled at him, made it perfectly clear that you didn’t need him here—didn’t want him here.

So why the hell did your chest feel tight?

Why did you keep glancing out the window when you left work, expecting to see him?

Why did it feel wrong that he wasn’t following?

Laura noticed before you did.

“You’re looking for him,” she said flatly, popping a fry into her mouth as the two of you sat at a booth in some local diner.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Laura gave you a look over the rim of her milkshake. “Logan.”

You scoffed, picking at the label of your water bottle. “I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are.” She dipped a fry in ketchup, not even trying to hide her smirk. “You’ve checked the door, like, five times.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was looking at the—” You stopped, realizing you had absolutely nothing to follow that up with.

Laura arched a brow. “Right.”

You huffed, slouching back against the booth. “He’s not here.”

“Yeah. Because you told him to leave.”

“So?”

Laura shrugged. “Didn’t think he actually would, did you?”

You didn’t answer.

Because the truth was, you hadn’t expected him to leave. Logan was stubborn. Logan didn’t give up. If anything, you had expected him to show up again, keep pushing, keep trying to get you to talk.

But he hadn’t.

And for some reason, that scared you.

Laura sighed, wiping her hands on a napkin before leaning forward. “You can’t have it both ways, you know.”

Your brow furrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you can’t tell him to leave and then get all weird when he actually does.”

You clenched your jaw. “I didn’t want him here.”

Laura tilted her head. “Didn’t you?”

You stared at her, stomach twisting, because you didn’t want him here—did you?

No. You didn’t.

But you didn’t want him gone, either.

You stood abruptly, tossing some bills onto the table. “C’mon. We’re leaving.”

Laura just smirked. “Where to?”

You grabbed your jacket. “I need to find Logan.”

---

It didn’t take long.

Logan wasn’t exactly subtle, and you had been trained to track people long before you ever met him. It was almost insulting how easy it was.

His truck was parked outside some shitty motel off the main road, tucked into the shadows near a flickering neon sign.

You could’ve knocked on his door. Could’ve walked right up, demanded an explanation—Why the hell did you listen to me?

But you didn’t.

Instead, you waited.

You sat in your car across the street, watching from the shadows, waiting to see if he’d leave. If he’d drive off, if he was planning on staying. If he was really, actually gone.

But Logan never left.

Hours passed. The motel lights flickered. You saw him once—stepping outside just long enough to smoke a cigarette before heading back in. No sign of him packing up, no sign of him driving away.

He wasn’t following you anymore.

But he hadn’t left, either.

You exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel.

This was the first time in months that Logan wasn’t hovering just outside your reach. And yet, you had tracked him down anyway.

Maybe Laura was right.

Maybe you hadn’t wanted him to leave.

Not really.

You ran a hand through your hair, exhaling sharply as you stared at Logan’s truck.

What the hell am I doing?

You had spent months trying to get him to leave, and now here you were, parked outside some shitty motel like some stalker, watching and waiting. For what? For him to notice? For him to come back?

No. That wasn’t what you wanted.

You gritted your teeth, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Then why are you still here?

You could just drive away. Go back home, pretend like you never saw him, pretend like this didn’t bother you.

But it did.

It bothered you that he listened. It bothered you that he left. It bothered you that, for the first time since he showed up, he wasn’t pushing you.

And you didn’t know why that scared you.

With a frustrated sigh, you shoved the door open and got out, the night air thick and humid around you. The gravel crunched beneath your boots as you crossed the street, your steps quick and deliberate.

You didn’t give yourself time to hesitate. If you thought about it too much, you’d turn back. And you weren’t ready to do that yet.

You knocked on the motel door.

Silence.

Your jaw clenched, and you knocked again—louder this time.

Still nothing.

A flicker of irritation ran through you. “Logan, open the damn door.”

Nothing.

Your patience snapped. You grabbed the doorknob and twisted. It was locked, of course, but that was never a problem for you. With a practiced flick of your wrist, you popped the lock and shoved the door open.

Logan was inside, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, a cigar burning between his fingers. He didn’t look surprised to see you. If anything, he looked tired.

“Real subtle, darlin’,” he muttered, exhaling smoke through his nose.

You crossed your arms. “You weren’t answering.”

“Didn’t feel like talkin’.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Too bad.”

Logan huffed out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Figures.”

You stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind you. “You just gonna sit there?”

“What do you want, Y/N?” Logan asked, his voice rough. Not annoyed. Just… tired.

The way he said your name made your stomach twist. You weren’t sure why.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, crossing your arms tighter.

Logan studied you, taking another slow drag from his cigar before stubbing it out in the ashtray. “Then why are you here?”

You shifted on your feet, avoiding his gaze. Because you left. Because I thought I wanted you gone, but now that you are, I—

You shook the thought away, exhaling sharply. “I just… I thought you would’ve left.”

Logan arched a brow. “And that bothered you?”

You hesitated.

That was enough of an answer.

Logan sighed, leaning back against the bed, arms resting behind him. “You told me to back off. So I did.”

You scoffed. “You don’t listen to people.”

Logan smirked slightly. “Guess you ain’t people.”

You hated how easily that threw you off balance.

Your throat tightened. “I don’t—”

“I ain’t askin’ for anything,” Logan said, cutting you off. “Not chasin’ you. Not pushin’ you. I meant what I said—I don’t wanna force you into anything.”

You swallowed hard. “Then why are you still here?”

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. “Maybe ‘cause I don’t want to leave, either.”

The air in the room felt heavy. Stifling.

You had spent so much time running, so much time convincing yourself that pushing him away was the only option. But now, standing here, looking at him—tired, frustrated, but still here—you didn’t know what the hell you were supposed to do anymore.

You took a slow breath, forcing your voice to stay steady. “You were… right.”

His brows furrowed slightly, like he wasn’t sure what part you were referring to.

You swallowed, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. “What you said. About grief. About moving on feeling like a sin.”

Logan stayed quiet, but his gaze sharpened, locking onto yours.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “I spent years running because it was easier. Because if I stopped, if I let myself…” You trailed off, fingers curling around your arms. “Then it would feel like I was betraying him. Like I was forgetting him.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

Your throat felt tight, but you forced yourself to keep talking. “I tried to build something new with Laura. I wanted to. And for a while, it worked. Seven years in Canada, we were okay. We were living, not just surviving. And then—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “The TVA happened. The Void happened. And suddenly, it was like all that time meant nothing.”

Logan was still watching you, but his expression was unreadable, his hands resting on his thighs as he leaned forward slightly.

“Then you showed up.” Your voice was quieter now. “And I didn’t know what the hell to do with that. Because I knew you weren’t him. I knew that. But every time I looked at you, every time you called me ‘darlin’ and looked at me like you knew me…” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “It just made me feel like I was losing him all over again.”

“I mean, I can’t even take off my damn wedding ring,” your voice cracked, “without feeling nauseous even though it’s been years.”

Logan’s gaze flicked down to your hand, to the ring still wrapped around your finger. His jaw clenched, something flickering in his eyes—something you didn’t want to name.

“You think that’s wrong?” he asked, voice low.

You swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, shifting forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “Ain’t wrong to hold onto what matters.”

Your fingers twitched, curling slightly, but you didn’t look away. “Then why does it feel like it is?”

Logan was quiet for a moment, studying you. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, steadier. “Because you think lettin’ go means losin’ him.”

Your throat tightened, but you didn’t answer.

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I ain’t gonna tell you to take it off. Ain’t gonna tell you to move on, either.” He leaned back, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “That’s gotta be your choice, darlin’.”

Something about that made your stomach twist. Maybe because you had spent so long convincing yourself you had to move on, that moving on meant leaving Logan behind—your Logan. The one who wasn’t sitting in front of you.

But then Logan spoke again, and his next words shattered every bit of resolve you had left.

“You ain’t the only one holdin’ on.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Logan reached into his pocket, pulling something out—something small, something old. He turned it over in his fingers before setting it on the nightstand beside him.

A ring.

Gold, simple, worn from time.

Your stomach flipped.

“I bought this the first time I met you,” he said, voice rough. “A long time ago. Different you. Different me. But you always come back, don’t you?”

You stared at the ring, your heartbeat hammering against your ribs. “Logan—”

“I kept it,” he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the band. “Every time. Even when I knew I’d lose you again.” He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “And every time, I tell myself I won’t go through it again.”

You swallowed hard. “But you do.”

Logan smirked slightly, but there was no humor behind it. “Yeah. Guess I do.”

Silence settled between you, heavy with everything left unsaid. The motel room felt smaller now, the air thicker. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your chest tight with something you weren’t ready to name.

Finally, you moved.

You walked forward, slow but deliberate, until you were standing right in front of him. Logan didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched you with that same patient, knowing look.

And then—hesitantly—you sat down next to him.

Not close enough to touch. Not close enough for it to mean anything.

But not far, either.

Logan didn’t say a word.

And for the first time in a long time, neither did you.

---

A few weeks later

You were cooking dinner while drinking a glass of wine—or rather the whole bottle. It wasn’t your fault you had a high alcohol tolerance.

“Jesus, fuck kid!”

“You started it!”

You furrowed your brows, stepping onto the back porch, wine glass still in hand. The salty ocean breeze brushed past as you leaned against the wooden railing, watching Logan and Laura circle each other in the sand.

The backyard—if you could even call it that—was part of a private beach, the stretch of sand leading straight into the rolling waves. Normally, it was peaceful. Right now? Not so much.

Logan huffed, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, and I’m endin’ it.”

“Doubt it,” Laura smirked before lunging again.

You sighed, watching them spar. To anyone else, it probably looked brutal—claws flashing, sand kicking up with every hit—but you knew better. This was bonding. In the weird, violent, feral way that only the Howlett bloodline could manage.

Laura landed a punch against Logan’s ribs, but he barely flinched. He countered by grabbing her wrist and twisting her to the ground, pinning her for a brief second before she slipped free and jumped back to her feet.

“You two done trying to kill each other?” you called out, swirling the wine in your glass.

Logan scoffed, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. “She’s the one that don’t know when to quit.”

Laura grinned, unfazed. “Neither do you.”

You huffed a quiet laugh before pushing off the railing. “Dinner’s almost done. Either finish up or starve.”

Neither of them responded, too caught up in the fight, but you knew they’d trail in soon enough. You turned and walked back inside, closing the sliding door behind you.

What you didn’t see was Laura catching Logan staring at your ass as you walked away.

She paused, then turned slowly toward him.

Logan blinked, realizing too late that he’d been caught.

“…Don’t,” he warned.

Laura smirked. “Too late.”

Then she lunged—only this time, it wasn’t part of the fight. She jumped onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck, and before Logan could react, she drove her foot claws into his ribs.

“Mother—fuck!”

Laura hopped off, landing perfectly on the sand while Logan stumbled forward, clutching his side. Blood bloomed beneath his shirt.

“That’s what you get,” Laura said simply, brushing sand off her hands.

Logan glared at her. “For what?!”

“For being gross.”

Logan clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring. “I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were.” Laura crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. “Don’t do it again.”

Logan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ, kid.”

Laura just smirked, turning toward the house. “C’mon, old man. Before she yells at us for being late.”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair before following her inside.

By the time they stepped into the house, you were already setting plates on the table. You barely glanced up—until you noticed the two fresh blood spots on Logan’s shirt.

You exhaled sharply through your nose. “Сраные идиоты,” you muttered under your breath.

Logan frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said flatly. “Sit.”

Logan sighed, knowing better than to argue. He pulled out a chair and sat down, peeling off his shirt with a wince. Laura dropped into the seat across from him, completely unbothered, already helping herself to food.

---

You took another sip of coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching as Laura shoveled cereal into her mouth at a pace that should’ve been illegal. Across the room, Logan sat in a chair, looking far too at home with his cup of coffee, flipping through the newspaper like it was 1954.

It was normal. Too normal.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why the hell are you reading the paper?”

Logan didn’t look up. “Why the hell are you watchin’ me read the paper?”

Laura snorted, not even trying to hide her smirk. “He’s got a point.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of coffee. “It’s weird.”

Logan finally looked up from his paper, brow raised. “What’s weird?”

“You,” you said, motioning at him with your mug. “Sitting there, reading the paper like some suburban dad in a toothpaste commercial.”

Logan smirked, flicking the edge of the page. “It’s called keepin’ up with the world, sweetheart.”

Laura snorted. “You’re reading the classifieds.”

Logan flipped the paper shut with a sigh. “Well, excuse me for enjoyin’ the simple things.”

You shook your head, amused. It had only been a few weeks since he stopped lurking in the background and actually started integrating into your lives. He had a habit of acting like he didn’t belong—like he was just passing through, despite all evidence to the contrary. But moments like these, sitting at the kitchen table, bickering over nothing? They felt normal.

Not forced. Not heavy. Just… easy.

You were about to tease him again when the sound of a car horn blasted through the quiet morning.

Laura groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Logan frowned, setting the paper aside. “Who the hell—”

Another honk. Longer this time.

“Motherfu—” You set your coffee down and turned toward the door, already knowing exactly who it was.

Logan followed, his expression somewhere between annoyed and resigned. “You expecting company?”

You grabbed the shotgun from beside the door, checking the chamber. “Nope.”

Laura smirked, leaning against the counter. “I call headshot.”

You smirked back. “Good luck. I’m faster.”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ. Just don’t kill ‘im.”

“No promises.”

You stepped onto the porch, raising the shotgun as you caught sight of Wade, standing beside his beat-up rental car, arms outstretched like some kind of messiah.

“Hello, my beautiful, homicidal family!” he called, grinning under his mask.

You pulled the trigger.

The first shot hit him square in the chest.

He staggered back, wheezing. “Okay—ow.”

You pumped the shotgun and fired again, this time hitting his shoulder.

Wade groaned, clutching his arm. “Rude!”

Logan stepped onto the porch behind you, arms crossed. “Really?”

You shrugged, pumping the shotgun again. “He’s still standing.”

Wade held up a finger. “Technically, I’m swaying.”

Laura stepped outside, standing next to Logan. “You missed his head.”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t miss. I’m savoring it.”

Wade straightened, shaking out his arms. “Alright, I deserved that. Maybe. Probably not. But—” He put his hands on his hips. “Didn’t expect the welcoming committee to include bullets.”

“You helped him find us,” you reminded him, motioning toward Logan with the barrel of the gun. “And then you just disappeared.”

Wade gasped. “Disappeared? Sweetheart, I gave you your own personal brooding, clawed man-child and then respectfully stepped aside so you could work through your very complicated feelings.” He tilted his head. “Which, judging by the tension on this porch, you’re still working through.”

You aimed the shotgun at his head.

“Okay! Okay!” Wade put his hands up. “I come in peace! No missions, no TVA bullshit, no looming apocalyptic threats. Just little old me, paying a visit to my favorite dysfunctional murder family.”

Laura tilted her head. “You brought gifts?”

Wade paused. “No.”

Laura looked at you. “Shoot him again.”

“Gladly.”

Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let the idiot talk before you put another hole in him.”

You exhaled sharply but lowered the gun. “Fine. Five minutes.”

Wade dusted himself off, cracking his neck. “I can work with that.” He strolled past you and into the house like he owned the place.

Logan shot you a look.

You just shrugged. “I’ll reload.”

Logan exhaled sharply, shaking his head as Wade strolled inside like he owned the place. You followed, setting the shotgun back in its usual spot near the door, but you kept an eye on Wade as he plopped onto the couch, boots kicked up on the coffee table like he belonged there.

Laura sat back down at the kitchen counter, spooning more cereal into her mouth as she watched the interaction unfold like a live-action sitcom.

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “So? You gonna explain why you’re here, or am I just supposed to shoot you myself?”

Wade sighed dramatically, tilting his head back. “Wow. No ‘Hey, Wade, long time no see!’ No ‘How’s life treating you, Wade?’ Just straight to the violence. And after everything I’ve done for you.”

“You didn’t do shit,” Logan muttered.

Wade gasped, clutching his chest. “I helped you find your long-lost murder wife and stabby daughter! And this is the thanks I get?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You helped him track us, then bailed. So yeah, not exactly getting a warm welcome.”

Wade sat up, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, please. You two needed time to work through your very complicated emotions without my handsome, charming self getting in the way.” He glanced at Laura. “Right, stabby junior?”

Laura scooped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “Don’t call me that.”

“See?” Wade pointed at her. “Bonding. Growth. Character development. I did you all a favor.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You got five minutes to explain why you’re here before I throw your ass back outside.”

“Fine, fine.” Wade rolled his shoulders. “Like I said, no missions, no apocalyptic disasters, no TVA crap. I just thought, ‘Hey, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen my two favorite feral murderers and their grumpy third wheel—why not drop in?’”

Laura swallowed her bite of cereal. “You came all this way for that?”

“Yes!” Wade threw his hands up. “Is it a crime to want to visit family?”

You scoffed. “We’re not family.”

“Well, no, but emotionally? Spiritually? Definitely.” Wade turned to Logan. “Especially you, big guy. We’ve got history. We’ve been through things. We’ve murdered people together. That’s a bond you don’t just throw away.”

Logan groaned. “Christ.”

Laura wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You got a hotel or something?”

Wade grinned under the mask. “I was actually thinking I’d crash here.”

You, Logan, and Laura all responded in unison.

“No.”

Wade groaned, flopping back onto the couch. “You people have no hospitality.”

“We have boundaries,” you corrected.

“And I have a deep, unrelenting need to be included in your lives,” Wade countered, making himself comfortable.

Logan pushed off the wall. “You’re leavin’ in an hour.”

“Oh, c’mon, Logan, don’t be like that,” Wade whined. “I brought snacks.” He reached into his utility belt, pulling out a crumpled bag of gas station gummy bears.

Laura stared at them. “Are those even sealed?”

“Nope.” Wade shook the bag. “Still good, though.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Jesus, Wade.”

“What? It’s the thought that counts.” He sat up again, stretching his arms. “So, what’ve you lovebirds been up to?”

“Don’t start,” you warned.

Wade leaned in, resting his chin on his hands. “Oh, I’m starting. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. And let me tell you—there’s a whole lot of unresolved, slow-burn, will-they-won’t-they going on.”

Logan scowled. “Ain’t shit goin’ on.”

Wade gasped. “So you admit there could be something going on?”

Logan turned to you. “Can I kill him?”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering it. “I mean, he’d just come back.”

Laura stood, grabbing her backpack from the counter. “I’m going to the beach. I don’t have the patience for this.”

Wade pouted. “Aww, leaving so soon?”

Laura slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbing an apple from the counter. “Yeah. Before I commit an actual homicide.”

You motioned toward the door with your coffee mug. “Have fun, don’t kill anyone.”

Laura pointed at Wade. “No promises if he follows me.”

Wade placed a hand over his heart. “I would never.”

Laura shot him a look before heading out, leaving the three of you alone.

Wade stretched his arms over his head. “Sooo… what’s next? Movie night? Group therapy? A good ol’ fashioned team-building exercise?”

Logan grabbed him by the back of his suit, hauling him toward the door.

“Alright, alright! I get it!” Wade protested, feet dragging against the floor. “I’ll leave! But just know this—I will be back. Because deep down, you all love me.”

Logan yanked the door open and shoved him outside.

Wade turned back, wagging a finger. “This isn’t over.”

Logan slammed the door shut.

Silence.

You took a sip of coffee. “Ten bucks says he comes back in an hour.”

Logan sighed. “I hate that you’re probably right.”

---

The smell of fresh coffee drifts through the small kitchen as you rummage in a cabinet for cereal. Laura, half-asleep in an old T-shirt and shorts, slumps at the table with her chin propped on one hand. Across from her, Logan reads the newspaper, though he’s not really turning the pages—more like staring at the same article, his focus wandering.

You pull out the cereal box, shaking it to confirm it still has something inside. “Any of you want a bowl, or am I the only one who still eats this?”

Laura mumbles without lifting her head, “I’ll take some. Didn’t we run out of milk yesterday?”

Logan finally looks up, folding the paper. “I grabbed some on the way home last night.”

You tilt your head, somewhat surprised. “You did?”

He shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Figured you two would appreciate not startin’ the day with black coffee and dry cereal.” He sets the newspaper aside, standing to help. “I’ll grab it.”

Laura lifts her head, eyeing the two of you with mild suspicion. “That’s… domestic.”

Logan huffs a soft laugh, opening the fridge. “You callin’ me soft, kid?”

She smirks, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Just making an observation.”

You slide a bowl across to her. “Say thank you, or he’s never doing anything nice again.”

Logan snorts, pouring milk into your bowl first. “You sayin’ I’m not nice?”

Laura just raises a brow. “You’re nice in a grumpy, borderline-feral way, sure.”

You stifle a laugh, taking the milk carton from Logan to finish up Laura’s bowl. “Settle down, you two. It’s too early for bickering.”

Laura mumbles a reluctant, “Thanks,” before digging in.

Logan leans against the counter, sipping from a mug of coffee. For a moment, there’s a quiet ease in the room: Laura’s crunching cereal, you adding sugar to your cup, the morning sun filtering through the windows. No drama, no big conversations—just normal, daily life.

Finally, Laura sets her spoon down, glancing at Logan over the rim of her bowl. “So… you’re picking me up after I’m done, right?”

Logan nods. “Figured I’d swing by. Unless you’d rather walk?”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’s like a hundred degrees. I’ll take the ride.”

You snort into your coffee. “Told you that you shouldn’t wear all black if you’re worried about the heat, muñeca.”

Laura shoots you a light glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I like black.”

Logan smirks, finishing the last of his coffee. “Kinda partial to it myself.”

Laura gestures at both your outfits—yours is a faded tank top and shorts, Logan’s wearing his usual jeans and a T-shirt. “We need a family shopping trip, or something. This color scheme is depressing.”

You exchange a glance with Logan, both of you raising a brow.

“Look, we’re not exactly the pastel type,” you say, shrugging.

Laura just sighs dramatically. “Fine. I’ll be the fashion icon in this house.”

Logan folds his arms, feigning seriousness. “I can’t wait to see what horrors you drag us into.”

---

Not long after breakfast, you find yourself sorting through a pile of laundry in the living room, music playing softly from an old radio. Logan wanders in from the porch, running a hand through his hair.

“Got your towels on the line,” he says, plopping down on the couch. “They should be dry by lunch.”

You raise a brow, folding one of Laura’s T-shirts. “Look at you, all domesticated.”

He grunts. “I know how to hang a towel.”

“Sure you do,” you tease, giving him a sideways look. “Next step: vacuuming.”

He picks an invisible speck of lint off his jeans. “Don’t push it.”

You fight a grin, focusing back on the laundry. It’s quiet for a bit, just the low hum of the radio filling the space.

Eventually, Logan clears his throat. “I was thinkin’,” he starts, somewhat hesitant. “We could grill tonight. Might as well enjoy the weather before it gets too hot.”

You pause, glancing his way. “Sounds good. Laura’s meeting with her friends later, but she’ll be back for dinner. We can pick up some extra stuff at the store.”

Logan nods, draping an arm over the couch. His gaze lingers on you a moment, like he wants to say more but isn’t sure how. Then he just nods again, quietly content.

You manage a small smile, folding another shirt. “Guess we’re doin’ normal pretty well these days, huh?”

“Could get used to it,” he murmurs, voice low.

Your eyes meet for just a second, something unspoken passing between you. Then you clear your throat, toss the shirt aside, and stand up. “Well, if we’re grilling, we might need marinade, and we’re nearly out of vegetables. Let’s go before the midday rush.”

Logan pushes himself up. “You want me to drive?”

You think it over, shrug, and toss him the keys. “Sure. Just… try not to side-swipe every car you pass.”

He catches the keys effortlessly, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“Says the guy who nearly took out a stop sign last week,” you retort, but there’s a teasing note in your voice.

He shakes his head, slipping on his boots. “You done with that laundry?”

“For now. Let’s leave it for Laura.”

Logan smirks. “Smart.”

---

Back from the store, groceries in tow, you find Laura sprawled on the couch, a book open on her lap. She looks up when you and Logan enter, arms loaded with bags.

“You got the stuff for the grill?” she asks, nose wrinkling. “Because all I see is lettuce.”

You frown, glancing down at your bags. “There’s more than lettuce, muñeca. Where’s the gratitude?”

She shrugs, turning a page. “Thanks, Mom.”

Logan sets his own bags on the counter with a grunt. “Everything else is in here, including that weird juice you like.”

Laura closes her book, swinging her legs off the couch. “You found it?”

He nods. “Took me five minutes to track it down, but yeah.”

A genuine smile creeps onto Laura’s face—rare, but it’s there. “Cool. Thanks.”

You give Logan a light nudge with your elbow, meeting his gaze and mouthing a silent “good job.” He just smirks, busies himself with unloading the groceries. For a fleeting moment, the three of you fill the small kitchen in quiet coordination—hands passing off produce, storing items in the pantry, the rustle of plastic bags and shuffle of feet the only sounds.

Eventually, Laura heads back to the couch, flipping open her textbook once more. You and Logan exchange a small, knowing look. No big conversation necessary—just an unspoken acknowledgment that this is how life is now: mostly ordinary, sometimes chaotic, but it works.

---

The storm rolls in fast, the Florida heat giving way to thick clouds and distant thunder. The air is dense with the smell of rain, the first few drops tapping against the windows as you toss a towel over the back of a chair.

“You get the towels inside?” you ask, glancing at Logan, who’s standing near the back door, watching the sky darken.

He grunts. “Got most of ‘em before the wind picked up. One got away.”

You arch a brow. “Got away?”

“Flew into the ocean.”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “So much for that one.”

Outside, the wind picks up, bending the palm trees as the rain comes in steady now, streaking against the glass. Logan watches it for a moment longer before turning back to you. “Laura still at her friend’s?”

You nod, checking your phone. “She texted a little while ago. Said she’ll head back once the rain dies down.”

Logan doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s already debating whether or not to go pick her up himself. You shoot him a look before he can suggest it. “She’s fine.”

Logan rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, he moves toward the fridge, pulling out a beer. “You eaten yet?”

You smirk. “That your way of asking if I’m making dinner?”

He cracks the bottle open, leaning against the counter. “Just curious.”

You shake your head, pulling open a cabinet. “We got leftovers from last night, or you can figure it out yourself.”

Logan takes a swig, watching you for a beat. “You really gonna make me fend for myself?”

“You’re a grown man, Logan.” You grab a bag of chips, plopping onto the couch. “Figure it out.”

Logan makes a low noise in his throat—something between a scoff and a chuckle—but he doesn’t move right away. He just watches you, something unreadable in his expression. You pretend not to notice, flicking on the TV, scrolling through the channels.

The storm grows louder outside, wind rattling against the house. Logan finally moves, taking his beer with him as he drops onto the couch beside you. The cushions dip under his weight, the space between you smaller than it was a moment ago.

For a while, neither of you speak. The TV flickers with whatever show you landed on, voices blending with the steady hum of rain. It’s comfortable, easy—until you realize Logan isn’t really watching.

You glance at him. “You good?”

Logan exhales through his nose, gaze still on the screen but unfocused. “Yeah.”

You tilt your head slightly. “Liar.”

He smirks, finally looking at you. “You always call me out on my shit?”

“Only when it’s obvious.”

His smirk lingers for half a second before fading. He takes another drink, resting the bottle against his thigh. “Just been thinkin’.”

You hum, reaching for another chip. “That’s dangerous.”

Logan snorts, shaking his head. “Smartass.”

You grin, but the amusement doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Because you know whatever’s on his mind, it’s not light. Not casual. Logan doesn’t bring things up unless they’re already weighing him down.

You shift, turning to face him properly. “What’s up?”

Logan runs a hand through his hair, exhaling. “This—” He gestures vaguely between the two of you. “It’s been… good.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Okay…”

His jaw tightens slightly, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “I ain’t used to it.”

You hesitate, fingers curling slightly against your leg. “Used to what?”

Logan glances at you, then looks away. “Not havin’ to fight.”

The words sit heavy between you. The wind howls outside, the rain beating against the roof in steady waves.

You let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Logan’s fingers flex around his beer bottle. “Feels like any second now, it’s gonna get ripped out from under us.”

You study him, your stomach twisting at the quiet honesty in his voice. Logan isn’t afraid of a fight. But this? The lack of a fight? That’s unfamiliar territory.

You lean back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “If it does, we’ll deal with it.”

Logan huffs. “That easy, huh?”

“No,” you admit. “But I’m too tired to do anything else.”

He’s quiet for a beat, then, voice lower—“Tired of me?”

Your chest tightens. You turn your head, meeting his gaze. There’s no teasing in it, no smirk. Just something raw, something cautious. Like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’ll say next.

You shift closer without thinking. “No, Logan,” you say softly. “Not you.”

His eyes flicker—something unreadable passing through them. His hand twitches slightly, like he’s debating reaching for you but stops himself.

You study him for a second longer before deciding you’re done waiting.

You grab his collar and pull him into a kiss.

It’s not soft. Not hesitant. It’s rough, heated—like you’re trying to prove a point neither of you have the words for. Logan exhales sharply through his nose, startled but not resisting. His fingers find your waist, grip firm, steady.

You tilt your head, deepening it, nails curling against his shirt. Logan makes a low noise in his throat—a sound you feel more than hear.

The beer bottle hits the floor with a dull thud, forgotten.

He pulls you onto his lap, hands splayed against your back. The kiss turns almost desperate, years of tension unraveling all at once.

You break away just enough to catch your breath, forehead resting against his. His breathing is uneven, his grip still firm like he’s afraid you’ll pull away completely.

“Thought you were tired,” he mutters, voice rough.

You smirk, brushing your thumb over his jaw. “Of everything but this.”

His fingers flex against your waist. “You sure?”

You tilt his chin up slightly, making sure he’s looking at you when you answer. “Yeah, Logan. I’m sure.”

Something shifts in his expression—something quiet, something settled.

Then he kisses you again, and this time, neither of you hold back.

---

The storm had passed by the time you stirred awake, the humid Florida air creeping in through the open window, mixing with the scent of salt and something undeniably Logan.

You weren’t the type to linger in bed—never had been—but this morning was different. You could feel the warmth of him beside you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the weight of his arm draped loosely around your waist.

Your muscles ached—not in a bad way, but in the kind of way that made you very aware of what had happened last night.

You exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling.

No regrets.

But a whole lot of what now?

You shifted slightly, and Logan’s grip tightened just enough to keep you from moving too far. “Where d’you think you’re goin’?”

His voice was thick with sleep, rougher than usual.

You smirked. “Didn’t think you were awake.”

Logan huffed against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “Been awake. Just didn’t wanna move.”

You turned your head slightly, catching the lazy half-smirk tugging at his lips. “Didn’t peg you for the cuddling type.”

Logan grunted. “Ain’t cuddlin’. Just keepin’ you in place.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t try to move again. “Right.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the distant crash of waves outside. Logan’s fingers traced absentminded patterns against your hip, his other arm still tucked beneath his head.

For a moment, it almost felt normal. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to ignore the inevitable.

Then Logan spoke.

“Not gonna lie,” he muttered. “Didn’t think this would happen.”

You arched a brow. “You doubting your own charm?”

He smirked, but there was something quieter beneath it. “Just figured you’d keep runnin’ circles around me first.”

You exhaled through your nose, dragging a hand down your face. “Jesus. I should’ve just left in the middle of the night and really kept you on your toes.”

Logan’s grip tightened slightly. “You wouldn’t.”

You didn’t answer right away. Because he was right.

Logan let out a slow breath, his thumb brushing against your side. “So what now?”

You thought about it. About the last few months, about the way you and Laura had built something here. About the way Logan had been circling your life since the moment he showed up, waiting, watching, never pushing—until last night.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Logan was quiet for a second, then, “good.”

You smirked. “That easy, huh?”

He huffed. “For once.”

The weight between you didn’t feel as heavy anymore. You weren’t thinking about the past, about the other Logans, about the lives you’d lost before. For once, you weren’t overthinking.

You glanced down at your left hand, the ring still on your finger. You twisted it around, feeling the weight of it—the warmth that had long since faded, but never really left.

Logan didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Just watched, his jaw tight, his fingers flexing slightly against your hip like he wasn’t sure if he should reach for you or give you space.

You exhaled slowly. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you pulled the ring off.

The absence of it was immediate. Like a phantom limb, like something missing that had been part of you for longer than you could remember.

You held it between your fingers, staring at the small, worn band. The gold was a little dull, edges softened from years of wear, of fights, of moments that felt so distant now you weren’t sure if they were even real.

Logan stayed silent, watching.

You swallowed hard, bringing the ring up to your lips, pressing a kiss to the cool metal. A quiet farewell. A promise that none of it had been lost, that it still mattered.

Then, carefully, you set it down on the nightstand.

Logan exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly beside you. “You sure?”

You looked at him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—God, his eyes. Like he was bracing himself, waiting for you to regret it, waiting for you to pick it back up, waiting for you to tell him this was a mistake.

But it wasn’t.

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. His palm was rough, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

“I’m sure,” you murmured.

Logan studied you for a long moment, like he was trying to decide if you meant it. Then, after a beat, his shoulders relaxed, just slightly. He turned his hand, squeezing yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Neither of you said anything after that.

Because for the first time in years, there was nothing left to say.

so i don't know if people caught it, but i thought i would just say it-the whole arc of logan was the fact that he always left his version of reader but this time he stayed. which is the reason he stayed in florida even when reader didn't want him there. i don't know if i made it obvious or not but i thought i would just put it out there

anyways, i hope this lived up to people's expectations :)

[dorabellingham]

Vows in a rush

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when after years of marriage you decide to renew your vows and he surprises you

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The afternoon was golden, tinged by the sunset that painted the sky with soft shades of pink, orange and blue. The place chosen by Jude for the renewal of the vows was a small garden hidden between hills, surrounded by ancient trees and wildflowers. It was a dream setting, intimate, just for you.

You had imagined that it would be a special moment, but nothing prepared you for what you saw when you approached the altar.

Jude was there, waiting for you, wearing an elegant dark suit that made him look even more handsome. But it wasn't just him. Next to him were Jayden and Oliver, your two boys, dressed in small suits identical to their father's. Jay, with his curls perfectly arranged, held a small pillow of wedding rings, while Oli, on his father's lap, looked around with curious eyes.

Your heart stopped for a moment.

The vision of them there, the three men of your life, waiting for you at the altar, was enough to make tears fill your eyes before even taking the first step.

-Oh, Jude...

You whispered to yourself, feeling your legs almost fail.

You held the bouquet harder and tried to take a deep breath, but the tears were already rolling freely down your face. You walked slowly through the improvised corridor, feeling his heart beating faster with each step.

When you finally reached the altar, Jude smiled at you, his eyes shining with emotion.

-You look so beautiful, darling.

He murmured, holding your hand.

You looked at him, then at the smiling boys, and sobbed softly.

-You took me completely by surprise, babe.

Jude laughed, wiping a tear from your face with his thumb.

-I thought it would be special if we did this together. You're not just my wife, Y/n. You are the mother of our children, the woman I want to live with every day of my life. I wish they were here to see this, to feel how strong and full of love this family is.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears, but it was impossible.

The ceremony began in a simple way, only the two exchanging sincere vows, with the little boys as witnesses of the love that united them.

Jude held your hands gently and took a deep breath before starting.

-Babe, I chose you years ago, and I would choose you as many times as necessary. Since the day we said "yes" to each other, we went through incredible moments, through challenges, joys that I never imagined I could feel. You are my partner, my best friend, my home. With you, life is always worth it. Today, in front of our children, I want to promise once again that I will love you, protect you and make you happy for the rest of my life.

You sniffed, laughing in the midst of tears.

—Jude...

You tried to speak, but the voice failed from so much emotion.

He smiled, waiting patiently while you took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself.

-I've told you before, and I'll say it again... I would marry you a thousand times, Jude Bellingham. Not because I need to, but because you are the love of my life. From the moment we started this journey, I knew that it was with you that I wanted to grow old. You give me strength, make me laugh on the worst days, make me feel the most loved woman in the world. And, above all, you gave me the greatest gifts of my life: our children. So, today, before them, I promise to continue by your side, to continue loving you, to continue being yours, forever.

Tears ran freely down your face, and the man in your front couldn't hold back the emotion either.

Jay looked at the two, clearly confused with the crying, and pulled the bar of his father's suit.

-Daddy, mommy is crying.

Jude laughed and took his eldest son on his lap, while you held Oliver.

-It's because she's happy, Jay.

He explained, kissing his son's forehead.

Jayden looked at you with the most expressive brown eyes he had ever seen in your life and, in the purest innocence, opened his arms to you.

-I love you so much, mommy!

And that broke you completely.

You hugged the two boys and Jude at the same time, letting all the emotions overflow.

At that moment, in that small altar surrounded by flowers and love, you knew, more than ever, that there was no better place in the world to be.

[pan-kojiwa]

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ➻ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧?

[Characters] ➻ 𝐒𝐚𝐞 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 | 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 | ??? |

[CW] ➻ SFW, stranger to lovers, whipped Kaiser, a bit ooc.

Waffle’s note -> that was long… tbh I didn’t know where I was going with this at some point… I should’ve just made a boyfriend!kaiser *sigh* well anyway, it’s still about cute aggression but with a little bit of obsession??? Also, does it feel like I tried to headcanon my way out of an 2k OS? Yes? Yh me too… it happened twice.. anyways u_u’

❦ 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫

✮ Michael Kaiser was used dealing with malice, to the point it became a second nature to him. After all, it was all he had ever known. Hurting people just came that easily. But everything changed when you showed up, and it’s still the case till this day. Michael Kaiser is mean, arrogant, and overly confident, yet all of that disappears in your presence. In fact, the first time he saw you, he couldn’t even speak. All you did was smile— yet he stood there, stunned. Your smile… so timid, but so bright… it almost blinded him. And your eyes… God. Those innocent sparkles in your eyes when you looked at him… he lost the war before it even began that day. You literally destroyed the thick walls he spent so long building around himself. Yes— the walls that hid the most ugliest parts in him, they got blown up. With just one look. And since then, he’s been craving your gaze— your attention. He’s drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

✮ Kaiser can be really selfish sometimes. From the first time he saw you, he knew he wanted you all for himself. He can’t help it, your entire being is calling to him. It's almost turning into an obsession at this point— and resisting the urge to be all up in your space is becoming hard. He wants to be the only person that you see, just as you're the only one he sees. Your smile when you're happy, your cries when you're sad, your rosie cheeks when you're being shy. Aah—He’s overwhelmed. Feeling so many emotions at once while picturing how cute you are— oh... he would love to have you all to himself.

✮ Kaiser never thought he would become a big, hopeless idiot when in love. Then again, it’s not surprising for someone who spent his life pushing people away and experiencing nothing but hate. But now, being hated, receiving or giving malice, manipulating people… he doesn’t care about any of that. Yeah— It doesn’t matter anymore. All he wants is you. You. The way his name rolls perfectly on your tongue like it was meant for it. The way your ears and nose turns a bright red when he tilts your chin up just to tease you. The way you always take a step back, completely flustered whenever he gets too close—he wants it. He needs it. God no— he craves it. He’s longing for a taste of your love, and he’s ready to do whatever it takes to have you by his side.

✮ Since you’re his first love, or more like the first person he’s allowed himself to love, sometimes he doesn’t quite understand his feelings. Well, he knows it’s love. What he doesn’t understand are the overwhelming urges to touch you, to feel your skin under his fingertips, to hold you in his arms, to grab you and kiss you all over, the urges to bite you just from looking at you smile… He just can’t seem to control himself around you. And he just can’t leave you alone either.

You’re passing by when someone suddenly yanks you into on of the meeting rooms. Luckily, the lights are on, so you could immediately see the face of the culprit.

“Kaiser?! What the fuck!? You scared the shit out of me!”

You quickly push the door closed, just in case someone passes by. You definitely don’t want to get caught in an empty room with one of the players.

Kaiser chuckles with a smirk as he leaned on the table behind him.

“ - Oh really, liebling? My apologies, I didn’t mean to.”

You raise an eyebrow, sceptical. Because from where you stand, he clearly did. Yet, you couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

“ - What are you doing here? Aren’t you gonna shower with the others?”

“ - Too crowded.” He replies, stepping closer to you with that playful smirk.

Your heart starts racing, and a faint blush creeps on your cheeks. You instinctively back away, your breath hitching. The door was behind you so you know you’re absolutely not trapped in the room. But with him so close, all up in your space feels like all your senses are being tickled. And not to mention how Kaiser had been acting strange lately. He’s always been a bit pretentious with everyone— even when he was alone— but now it seems like he’s paying extra attention to you. At first, you were thrown off, but the way he treats you like you were the most amazing person in the world makes you curious. Or flattered?

“ - Should I give you the key to the staff bathroom?”

“ - Oh my, I’d like that—only if you come with me.”

You blush furiously, your head dropping as you stare at your shoes, completely flustered.

“ - I—”

Kaiser grabs your chin, carefully lifting your head to meet his gaze. His gaze is intense yet soft on you. You could see his inner conflict swirling in those blue eyes, just like a storm.

“ - I know you were about to go take care of the team… He pauses. But… I wanted you all to myself.” He says bluntly freeing your chin, before taking one of your hand in his. He then gives it a light squeeze lifting towards his lips to place a soft kiss on it.

Your flustered look as well as your fluttering eyes makes him clench his jaw. Why are you making this so much harder for him? Why your little pout drives him mad like this? Why is it so hard— so impossible to resist you?

When he’s around you he can’t seem to control his emotions. So his only option left, is to let you go.

“ - If I make you stay here any longer, I might end up never letting you go.”

He tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear and then lets you out of the room, confused and heart pounding hard in your chest

✮ When he sees you, on the bench, wearing a jersey—a little too big for you— with his number and his name, his heart skips a beat. A warm feeling invading all his senses. He can’t see your expression completely from that distance, but he can definitively imagine your sweet lips silently cheering for him as well as your doe eyes, focused on him—full of anticipation for his goal. Suddenly, all he wants is to run to you— grab your head and kiss every inch on your adorable face. Yet he brushes off all this chaos of emotion it with a confident smirk, only sending a flying kiss towards you as he scores a goal for you. He was so close to ditch the whole match just to shower you with kisses.

✮ Kaiser is pretty much an open book once you get to know him. You’re completely aware of how whipped he is for you, even if he still tries to deny how much effect you have on him. The way you nervously play with your hair, or the way your fingers brush against his when you hand him his water battle during the team training— It’s almost ridiculous how it makes him go insane. So much that he can’t believe how much he just wants to hold you in his arms and hide you away.

✮ He likes to scoop you up in his arms. He always says that you look cuter that way but really, you both know it’s just an excuse to hold you in his arms. The way you circle your arms around his neck— pressing your chest tightly against his as your head rests on his shoulder. The way you hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck— oh… He swallows hard, an overwhelming warmth spreading through his entire body. He swallows again as the sensation began to migrate towards his heart. Fuck… it feels like it’s melting. He desperately wants to kiss you… to bite you… you’re so cute to the point he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. If you knew how much his heart is begging for your love right now… would you want him as much as he wants you?

✮ Kaiser always tries to mask what he truly feels with arrogance or confidence— because after all he’s “superior to all those plebeians.” So of course vulnerability isn’t something he comfortable with. He needs complete control over his emotion to feel secure. But it’s impossible with you around. And no matter how hard he tries to resist, he just can’t hide how much your cuteness affects him.

“ - Micheal!”

He turns around as he hears a very familiar voice calling him from afar—your voice. Your beautiful voice. The voice that could bring him down to his knees, even if he tried so hard not to fumble.

The cheerful tone you only use when you see him or when he smiles at you never fails to make his heart burst in flames. He can’t stay away from you, so that probably explains why his feet moved on their own, rushing toward you. And right there, you’re killing him— or more like your expression is. How can you be so cute? Your shy smile—your eyes shining with pure joy and affection— it’s making his heart swell with a softness that he sure isn’t used to—and it’s like a punch in the face.

But he can’t let you see this weak side of him. He can’t possibly let you know that he’s pathetic without you.

“ - Well, well, look who’s back to see this poor, miserable man.”

He stops right in front of you slightly leaning forward.

“ - You make it sound like I abandoned you.” You laugh softly hearing the dramatic tone dripping from his voice. But there’s something else in it—something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“ - Oh, but you did.” He grabs his chest like what you just said hurt him deeply.

“ - Without any pity for my poor soul, you left me all alone for an entire week.” You tilt your head at the tone in his voice. It was back. That sad tone—no, not sad. Sorrow? You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“ - I was sick… sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

The way your voice softened to reassure him, how you’re actually scearching for his gaze to make sure he’s okay, it must have done something to his heart, because before you even know, one of his hand is on your chin, tilting your face toward him. But his touch feels hesitant—because in reality he knows that being so close to you, feeling you skin under his fingertips— this is a risky move—but he couldn’t stop himself.

Your hopeful gaze, the way your lips parts as if you wanted to say something but didn’t—

He’s down bad. He wants to hold you, to hug you and kiss you everywhere. You’re too cute for your own good. His heart is pounding in his chest as if it could burst any minute from now.

But Instead, he simply gives you an enigmatic smile, while his fingers slowly let go of your chin.

“ - It’s okay, mein liebling, you don’t have to apologize. I’m just happy you came back to me.”

And with that, he turns away, glancing at you one last before walking away.

“ - Wait—don’t go!” You grab his arm before he can get too far.

“ - Oh? Can’t live without me already?”

You look down, nervous and unsure, blushing slightly as you bite your inner lip. And something in Kaiser snaps. Something he’s been trying—desperately—to control. He can’t stand it anymore. You’re just too fucking cute, too precious.

“ - Fuck…”

He quickly grab your face, pressing a gentle kiss on one of your cheek, then the other. You then close your eyes as you feel him moving toward your left eye, then the right one.

“ - I need you… I need you so badly in my life. I can’t resist anymore… please…”

Your eyes went wide and you feel your heart swell in happiness— you even tear up from the emotions. Without wasting any more time, you wrap your arms around his head , pulling him into a tight hug with his head resting in the crook your neck, a relieved smile on his face.

Silently, you hug each other.

✮ The way you pout sometimes, when you’re looking for him silently scanning the room with your eyes. And the way they instantly light up when you finally spot him— god you’re so cute. It always makes him want to grab you, bite your shoulder or cover your face with kisses.

✮ The way you only look at him— like the other players don’t even matter. The way you massage his shoulders during breaks to help him relax, while you completely ignore the other players— giving him all your attention. It never fails making him feel like he’s special. Your favorite. God, the way you always run to him first with that sincere and genuine smile of yours, shining so brightly on your face. You’re just so perfect in his eyes. To the point, the only way he can manage to regain control is by nearly choking himself.

✮ He likes to tease you. He noticed how much his teasing fluster you and seeing you blush and whimper like that with your adorable doe eyes when he gets close to you makes his heart explode. And he’s addicted to this sensation.

✮ The way you get jealous is so endearing to him—you’re just like an angry little kitten when fans and random people try to flirt with him. He doesn’t even look at them—because they’re not you after— still, he can see how much it pisses you off. Well it’s fine by him. He gets to have you all for himself right?

You and Kaiser are heading toward the training ground entrance, chatting about you are in such a good mood. Well— until a sudden screech resonated in your ears. Of course it’s yet another fan trying to get his attention, screaming his name and saying all kinds of bullshit about how he can “get it.”

You turn around instantly, glaring daggers at whoever said that. Violence isn't an answer. It's a question— the answer is yes. Fully understanding this quote you prepare yourself to throw hands. But before you can even take a step, Kaiser stops you with a smirk. And, really, he doesn’t fucking know where he finds the strength not to pinch your puffed up— angry cheeks. So damn pretty.

With some convincing, you finally step inside the training ground holding in hand. However, the second you’re out of the public eye, you slam him against the nearest wall, gripping his collar.

“ - When are you going to ask me out?” You hiss, frowning and lips pressed into an adorable pout.

Kaiser smirks chuckling as he tilts his head slightly.

“ - Oh, but Liebling... He then slides his hands on your hips, pulling you closer while lowering his head in the crook of your neck. You feel his teeth faintly grazing your skin before pressing a soft kiss on the same spot. You're already mine.”

[justwinginglife]

Better Half

“Hey- the Colonel’s hungry. Get him a sandwich or something. Better yet, make it a steak dinner. Actually, make it two.”

You barked orders to a passerby and the confused but obedient soldier threw out a quick salute in response before scurrying away to do your bidding. By now, he knew better than to question you (they all did); it was common knowledge that any command you gave, no matter how bizarre or seemingly random, was to be followed immediately if one wanted to avoid risking your wrath. Even Caleb was only half immune to this rule.

Once, you advised him to flank the left side of the enemy and he’d flanked the right instead. Besides the ground sliding out from beneath him because the right sight of the field had softened significantly more than the left due to recent weather conditions, he also had to suffer the consequences of your cold shoulder for the next week. Now he only disregarded you when he wanted to tease you; he’d never risk doing it out on the field again. You were many things, but you were almost never wrong when it came to battle strategy and that made you invaluable to him. At least, that’s what made you invaluable to him at first. As time went by, you became so much more to him than just sound advice.

You turned to face your superior only to see him attempting to stifle his snickers with a gloved hand. “Did I say something funny, Colonel?”

He attempted to clear his throat but it was to no avail. The slight shake in his shoulders gave him away. “It’s nothing- at ease, soldier.”

You stared at him, unamused.

Realizing it was futile, he finally let himself laugh aloud. “The Colonel is hungry, huh? Last time I checked, I was the Colonel. And I’m not hungry.”

You crossed your arms stubbornly. “You’ll be hungry soon; you always eat around this time anyway. And besides, I’m hungry.”

He smirked. “Are you telling me you’re throwing my name around just to get yourself a free dinner? Tell me, my oh-so-lovely-adjutant, does that sound like abuse of power to you?”

“Nope. Like I said, you’re going to get hungry here soon anyway.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

His stomach growled right on cue.

You raised a brow at him as if to say “I told you so.”

He laughed again, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. Who knew you had my eating schedule all memorized?” He nudged you playfully with his elbow and you couldn’t help but relax slightly at his familiar touch, biting back a smile.

You knew he was supposed to be your boss, but he’d always made you feel more like equals than anything else. You were always the first person he greeted when he walked into work, and you were the only person he bid farewell to when he left. He kept you at his side almost constantly, seeking advice when he needed it, or simply company when he wanted it. This line of work could be gruesome at times, but somehow he felt that life was a little less gray when you were there to make him laugh.

Sometimes you’d pretend you were the only one who could make him open up like this. If anyone had seen the two of you at work, they would’ve agreed. To anyone else in the Farspace Fleet, he was the Colonel- calm, cool, collected. To you, he was Caleb- silly, stubborn, sensitive. Sometimes you’d even pretend he was your Caleb. But then you’d see that damn necklace around his neck and that familiar pain would trickle back into your chest like a poison seeping into your veins.

He wasn’t yours. He was never yours. He was… hers.

Every time he left for Linkon, every time he gave you that mock salute before grinning widely and telling you to “hold down the fort” until his return, every time he waved at you as he boarded the train, you felt your heart sink more and more. You wondered if maybe one of these days, he just wouldn’t come back. If maybe he’d run off with her, marry her. And then he’d forget all about you.

It wasn’t until he bounded off the train with a souvenir in hand for you ( he got you one every single time, without fail, whether he was gone for a day or a week), that you felt you could breathe again. It wasn’t until he was in the passenger seat of your car, letting you drive him home, listening to an album you’d both discovered together, that you felt you could relax again. It wasn’t until he was making you dinner in his home, the way he always did as thanks for picking him up, that you felt you could finally forget about her for a moment.

But it didn’t help that he always wore that damn thing everywhere he went. Even now, as you waited for the soldier to bring you and Caleb dinner, you couldn’t help but glare at the stupid hunk of metal. What an ugly design- she couldn’t have picked something more classy? It was the most unrefined thing he owned; you were sure you would’ve picked something more suited to him had you been given the chance. But you knew he’d never give you the chance.

Without meaning to, you let out a small sigh as you sank into your desk beside him.

“I don’t plan to return to Linkon anytime soon.”

You froze in your chair. Had he really caught on that quickly? You must not have been as subtle as you’d thought. “What do you mean?” You asked nonchalantly.

“That sigh. You always sigh like that whenever I say I’m going to Linkon. Well, I have no intention of making any visits in the near future.”

You had only meant to glance over at him briefly but when your eyes met his, you found it impossible to look away. You reminded yourself to breathe. “You’re not? How come?”

“No reason to.” He shrugged.

Bullshit. He had a reason. He had a good fucking reason and you hated it. You hated her. Without ever knowing her personally, without ever meaning to, you’d begun to hate her for the simple act of having him. “Oh really? No one to visit?” You asked innocently.

He chuckled. “Just say it if you’re gonna think it.”

“Think what?”

He raised a brow at you. “Really? We’re gonna play that game? Fine, I’m good at games. What should we play, 21 questions? Shall I guess what’s bothering you?” He moved to pinch your cheek and laughed when you swatted him away.

You could tell he was about to press the issue so you were grateful when the soldier finally returned with your meals. “Eat.” You commanded Caleb.

He saluted you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You ate in silence, but you could feel him sneaking glances at you. You didn’t dare reciprocate the eye contact for fear you’d never be able to look away.

“Hey.” The sudden solemnity in his voice surprised you.

“What is it?” You picked at your food some more as you waited for him to speak.

“Would you say I’m… needed?” His voice cracked slightly.

Well now you had to look at him. Just what on earth was going on in his head? You were just talking about Linkon, and now he was breaking out some existential philosophy? “Needed as in what?”

He winced. “Never mind.”

“No, I’m serious. As in what? As in the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel? Or as in Caleb?”

He picked at the edge of his desk. “I dunno. Both, I guess.”

“Honestly?”

He hesitated and then nodded slowly.

“The Farspace Fleet has never been more impressive in its entire history than it’s been under your command. But does it need you? No. So if you wanted to do something else, be something else, you could. You could do anything you wanted.”

“And… Caleb?”

You smiled warmly. “I’ll always need Caleb. He owes me a date, by the way; if you see him, tell him he’s not allowed to bail on me like he did last time; concert tickets are nonrefundable and expensive, and his oh-so-lovely-adjutant doesn’t make as much money as he does.”

He cracked a smile. “Caleb doesn’t get a break even when he’s sick, huh? Alright, I’ll be sure to tell him. No one messes with the Colonel’s adjutant, after all.”

And just like that, you were back to normal.

“He really did bring us steak dinners,” Caleb laughed as he cut up his food.

“I said steak, didn’t I? You should know better than anyone there’s consequences when you don’t listen to me.” You wagged your finger at him in warning and it only made him laugh harder.

“When I brought you on as my adjutant, I didn’t think I’d be hiring a comedian as well. Tell me- do you play venues or am I the sole viewer of your comedy act?” He teased.

“Neither. Both would imply I’m getting paid to be funny and unfortunately I am not. Unless you’d like to add my humor to your bill.” You winked at him.

He shook his head, grinning. “Unfortunately, my dear, I don’t think the Farspace Fleet can afford such quality humor. Will you accept payment in Caleb’s homemade dinners instead?”

Your eyes lit up. “Absolutely! Tastes better than this shit anyway.” You gestured to the food before you.

He chuckled. “You’re the one who made a big deal out of requesting it and now you don’t like it? So hard to please.”

“This steak is so well done, you’d think a crematory cooked it. I like Caleb’s medium rare steak much better.” You made a point out of chomping aggressively on the chewy hunk of meat.

He shook his head, grinning. Then he glanced down and began to poke the food around his plate, and you knew it was time to ask.

“So why wouldn’t you be needed?”

He choked on his water. “Wh-what?”

“You asked if you were needed and it was right after we were talking about your visits to Linkon. Did something happen?” You knew this was a sensitive topic, but you also knew him. He’d beat around the bush until the day he died. He’d tell you a million things, but never how he felt. He’d allude to it, dance around it, but never outright say it. Not unless you dragged it out of him.

“Not… not really.” He cleared his throat and continued to jab at his food with his fork. There it was. The famous Caleb avoidance tactic.

“You get into a fight with her or something?”

He bit his lip. “Nothing gets by you, huh? Yeah… something like that.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re not doing that shit with me, Caleb. She might let you get away with it, but I won’t. You know damn well I won’t. Come on- spill.” You demanded.

He gave you a sheepish look. “I’m fine, really.”

“You start getting all existential on me about if you’re needed and then you tell me you’re fine? You think I don’t know you any better?” You were starting to get annoyed, but you took a deep breath, trying to be patient with him. You knew this was hard for him. “It’s me, silly. I won’t tell anyone. Hell, I didn’t even tell anyone you cried during that dog movie.”

He snorted. “It died! It’s not my fault I cried. They make those movies specifically so you cry.”

You laughed and nudged him with your elbow. “So, if I can keep a secret about the all powerful Colonel of the Farspace Fleet blubbering like a baby, I can surely listen to you rant about your girl for one minute. C’mon. Let loose.”

He hesitated but then he gave in the way he always did when you persisted like this. “She… she said she didn’t need me anymore. She said she could take care of herself. She didn’t like the way I’ve been ‘acting’ now that I’m Colonel. I was just… I was just trying to protect her the… the only way I know how.” His fork clattered onto the plate as pain flashed across his eyes. “Anyway, point is, she doesn’t want me around anymore. So I’m… I’m here.”

Your brow twitched. “I’m sorry- the fuck does she mean she doesn’t need you? What, she thinks she’s all grown now and doesn’t need anybody? Even adults need to lean on each other sometimes, getting older doesn’t mean you stop relying on others. She’s too immature; only immature people go around claiming that they’ve ‘matured’ and don’t need help anymore. I’m telling you Caleb, I’ve been telling you, you seriously need someone older.” You paused to see how he was taking your ranting. He only listened in silence.

You set a hand on top of his and very gently said, “I could blow up her house if you wanted.”

That made him smile a little. “You know that’s not what I want. But I appreciate the offer.”

“I know, I know. You’re too good to people sometimes, Caleb. I think between the two of us, I’m the meaner one. I’d march right up to her -if you’d let me- and tell her exactly what I thought of her bullshit.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s entirely accurate. You’re definitely the better one out of the two of us. You don’t… you don’t know the things that I’ve…”

“What- the things that you’ve done? Honey, I’m your partner in crime. The things you’ve done, I’ve done them with you.”

“But you don’t know what I… what I tried to do to her.” He admitted weakly.

“So lay it on me. What’s so scary that you think you can’t tell me?”

“I told her-” He swallowed, eyes darting away from yours. “That I’d lock her up to keep her safe. That it’d be safer for her by my side.”

“And?”

His eyes flicked back up to yours, wondering if he misheard you. “What do you mean, and?”

“And what else? Was that it?”

He huffed slightly, but there was no annoyance in his voice. “Of course you would think that’s fine.”

“But you’re right though. There is no safer place in the world than by your side. Besides the fact that you’ve got the coolest superpower in the world (seriously- it’s such a cheat), and that you’re a great fighter, you also just have the sway that comes with being the Colonel. She’d be an idiot to not realize that. Yeah, sure, you could’ve maybe worded the whole ‘lock you up’ thing better, but it’s like you said; you were only doing the best you could in the only way you knew how. I wouldn’t fault you for that.”

He stared at you for a moment. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

You gave him a wink. “Absolutely batshit, thank you.”

He laughed. “How is it that you always know how to make me feel better?”

“Umm, maybe because I’m the best adjutant in the world and you should pay me more?” You teased, nudging him again.

He snorted. “You wish. But seriously. Thanks. I needed that.”

You nodded. “Now, let’s go get drunk and talk about how much women suck. I’ll buy.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “But… you’re a woman. And you don’t drink. And you’re broke.”

You shrugged. “But my best friend drinks and he looks like he could use a drink and a good, old ranting session. And again, if you just paid me more, I wouldn’t be so broke.” You grinned unabashedly.

He took in the sight of your grin and couldn’t help but smile himself. You always had the brightest of smiles. It was damn near impossible to be upset around you.

The two of you soon found your way to a bar; Caleb specifically picked one near his house because he was sure he’d have to carry you home drunk. You insisted that you weren’t that much of a lightweight and even proposed a drinking competition but by the time you’d gotten one and a half drinks in, you were already dozing off in his arms. He chuckled as he gazed down at you fondly. Signaling to the bartender to close out his tab, he scooped you up in his arms and walked you to his house.

When he got inside, he laid you on his bed and simply watched you for a moment. He was tempted to crawl up beside you, as he was sure you wouldn’t mind, but then he thought better of it. He’d sleep on the couch instead. He turned to leave, but then decided instead to bend down and kiss the top of your head before whispering, “Thanks again for tonight. I had fun.”

He began to pull away, but before he could get too far, you latched onto him in your sleep and yanked him into bed beside you. He tensed up, unsure of what to do in this situation, but the sound of your even, happy breathing made his heart lurch in his chest. He could listen to it all night. He probably would be listening to it all night, because he wasn’t sure he could sleep with how tightly you were clinging to him. Did you even know what you were doing?

“Caleb…” You murmured in your sleep, nuzzling even closer to him.

He covered his mouth to stifle his chuckle. Yeah, you totally knew what you were doing. What was he going to do with you?

He brushed your hair to the side gently, wanting to get a better look at your slumbering face. You were adorable, there was no other way to put it. He wasn’t sure why he was thinking these things, as he was sure he would never dare to in broad daylight, but somehow, as you dozed off beside him, your perfume soaking into his shirt, he couldn’t help but enjoy it. Enjoy you.

He wondered if things could’ve been different, if you would’ve been the only one in his heart and in his bed like this, had he grown up in Skyhaven like you had. Would you have gone to school together? Would you have sat beside him? Would you have had lunch with him? Would he have had the nerve to ask you to the prom? He shook his head, laughing softly to himself. Probably not. He was plenty outgoing, but a pretty girl like you? He’d choke over his own words. It seemed he never had enough nerve when it came to matters of the heart. All he ever did was hold back how he was feeling and what he was thinking. But not… not with you.

His brows furrowed suddenly at the realization. Did he have a single secret from you? He swore he only had the one, and you’d just coaxed it out of him only hours ago. Now that he thought about it, you were the only person who truly knew him. The only one he shared everything with. Of course, he had someone he loved, someone he’d loved his whole life, but even she didn’t know all of his secrets. You were the only one he told them to. You were the… the only one he wanted to tell them to.

He tensed up again. How could he let this happen? This couldn’t happen. Besides the fact that he was already in love with someone, he shouldn’t have been sharing so much with one person anyway. You could betray him, you could leave him, or even worse, you could hate him. One day, he could share too much, and you would never look at him the same way again. And he couldn’t stand that.

Carefully, he pulled your arms off of him and made his way to the living room. He stared at the ceiling until sleep eventually took him.

In the morning, he woke up with a blanket around him. He blinked, still groggy from sleep. He hadn’t remembered to grab himself a blanket, where did it…

Suddenly he heard the soft sound of an inhale and an exhale, then another inhale and exhale. He quickly turned on his side. There you were, sleeping on the floor. You’d given him the blanket he’d had on his bed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. What the hell were you doing? Why were you on the floor? Didn’t he leave you in the bedroom? How long had you been here? He hoped to god you hadn’t been here long, otherwise you might get a cold from the lack of a blanket. He quickly scooped you up in his arms, attempting to settle you on the couch where he had previously been laying, so that he could wrap you up in the blanket, but you slowly began to stir.

“C-Caleb? What’re you-” You rubbed your eyes. “What’re you doin?”

He sighed. “What am I doing? What are you doing, why were you sleeping on the floor when I clearly put you on the bed, huh?”

You gave him a sleepy smile. “That’s an easy one. Cuz it’s your house. You should get the bed, silly. I tried to wake you up to get you to come to bed, but you were knocked out. Was like talking to a pile of bricks. So I brought you the blanket and slept on the floor.” You said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

He groaned. “You dork, I put you on the bed on purpose. How long have you been sleeping out here with no blanket on?”

“I dunno… couple hours?” You sat up slowly.

He rested his hand on your forehead, brow creased with concern.

“Watcha doin?”

“Making sure you’re not sick or something, cuz you slept in the cold like a dumbass.”

You grinned. “And? What’s my diagnosis, doc?”

“You’re not sick; you’re just stupid.” He flicked you in the forehead.

You laughed. “Good morning to you too, Cap’n Cranky.”

“Morning, goofball. I said I owe you one of Caleb’s homemade meals, right? How ‘bout I make you breakfast? I’ll make it nice and warm to make up for you sleepin in the cold.”

You straightened in excitement, nodding your head enthusiastically.

He cracked a smile and then got to work cooking.

No matter how many times you’d watched Caleb cook, you never got tired of it. You loved the way he expertly diced his vegetables, the way every cube was the same size. You loved the way he flicked his wrist out and flipped the pan. You loved the way he’d dip a pinky into the sauce to taste its flavor. You loved the way he hummed to himself when he got really into it. You loved everything about him.

“You know, I think I just might be your biggest fan, Chef Caleb.” You called out.

He grinned. “Only cuz I bribe you with my food. You wouldn’t like me so much if I didn’t feed you.”

“Hey- that’s not true. I’d like you no matter what.” You declared.

You might’ve imagined it, but you swore you saw him hesitate for a moment.

“Caleb?”

He blinked and his smile returned. “Sorry, spaced out.”

You stared at him carefully.

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “What? Why’re you staring?”

“Caleb, it’s too early to be doing this.”

“Doing what?” He asked innocently as he stirred the pot.

“To be hiding things. You know you can’t hide things from me, you have a terrible poker face.”

“Hey- I have a great poker face, I’ll have you know.” He said, putting a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“Says the guy who is trying to avoid the topic by continuing to talk about poker faces.” You retorted.

He sighed and turned the stove off. “Fine, fine. I should know better by now, nothing gets past you. I was just… I was just thinking last night about some things.”

You sighed. “Caleb. You’re going to have to elaborate on ‘some things.””

“I know, I’m getting there. It’s just… do you think… there would ever be a day when you don’t like me anymore?” He asked quietly.

You snorted. “Nope. Never.”

“But what if… what if I did something really bad? What if I hurt you?”

“I’d forgive you.”

“But what if I hurt someone you care about?”

“You’re the only person I care about.”

“But what if-”

“Caleb, where is this all coming from? What’s going on? Don’t you trust me?” You cut him off suddenly. You could tell he was starting to spiral.

He winced. “I do… it’s just… sometimes I think I’m not cut out to have any sort of close relationship with anyone. My… my hands are far too stained with blood and I-”

“Well, if I stain my hands right beside you, who’s to say whose blood it is?”

His eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“I’m saying, I’ll hold your hand no matter what. I’ll stand by you no matter what. I don’t care what you do, I don’t care what you’ve done, I don’t care what you’re going to do. You’re stuck with me. If you’re in it, I’m in it too.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him, enveloping him in a tight hug. “You dork, is this why you left the bed last night?”

He tensed up. “You… you knew I was lying with you?”

“Yeah and you were warm and then you left and it was cold. So it’s your fault if I get sick.”

“I just said you weren’t sick,” He grumbled, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t bottle your feelings up again, okay? Just tell me if you’re feeling down. I don’t care if I’m asleep, I don’t care if I’m mid-shit, I will drop anything and everything for you.”

“Well I definitely wouldn’t interrupt you if you were mid-shit,” He laughed. “But I will keep that in mind… thanks. I really do appreciate it. You… you have no idea what it means to me to know that you’re there for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you. And my offer still stands; I will totally blow up her house if you ever want me to. I never liked her anyway.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “What’s with you and explosions? I really will have to keep you in line, won’t I?”

“Keep me in line? Who’s the one who flanked right when I said left and went down the hill in a landslide?” You raised a brow at him.

He groaned, palming his face with a hand. “I said I was sorry, how many times you gonna keep bringing that up?”

“As many times as it takes for you to know that I’m always right.”

“Yeah, yeah- you’re always right, eat your damn breakfast.” He laughed as he shoved a bowl of food at you and directed you to his dining room. Then he slid into a chair beside you, nudging you gently with his arm.

The two of you ate in silence but it was a comfortable silence. The kind you can relax in when you know the other person is waiting for you on the other side of that silence. The kind you can only enjoy when you truly cherish the company you have.

“This is nice; I should bother you for breakfast more.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Is that right? What should I charge you for in return?”

“Is my undying attention not enough?”

“Undying attention is pretty good. But my home cooked meals are a hefty price. How about your undying attention and no more secrets between the two of us?”

You stared at him curiously. “We already have no secrets.”

“I think we have a grand total of one.”

“One? That’s one I’ve never heard of.”

“You still haven’t told me why you get upset every time I go to Linkon.”

You choked on your porridge. “Upset? I don’t get upset. The weather is just terrible there and I don’t want you to get sick.”

He raised a brow at you. “Now who’s got a bad poker face?”

“I think we should have no secrets except for my one. It’ll be the only exception. And then no secrets after that.” You mumbled in between bites. You were now feeling the need to stuff your cheeks so full that it was physically impossible to answer him. God, your behavior was ridiculous, and you knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself. How was it that you could control an entire fleet and yet you couldn’t control your own feelings? You weren’t even sure you could control your face right now. You were sure your cheeks were as red as the sunrise.

“What’s so big a deal about your one secret? I told you I was willing to lock someone up for the rest of their life, and your secret is worse than that?”

You nodded quickly. “Oh my god, so much worse.”

He crossed his arms, unconvinced.

“You’ll honestly never look at me the same way again, I think it’s probably for the best if we keep this one under wraps.” You said weakly. You didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

“You said you’d like me no matter what. Well, I’m the same way with you. I’ll like you no matter what.”

“That’s-” You cleared your throat. “Kinda the issue.” You mumbled under your breath.

He tilted his head towards you, straining to hear your last words. “What did you say?”

“I said I need a tissue. Too much porridge. Messy stuff.” For good measure, you let some of it drip down your lip, shrugging your shoulders as if to say “What can you do?”

He rolled his eyes before grabbing a napkin. You thought he’d just hand it to you but instead he gently wiped the porridge from your face. His fingers brushed against your lips once. Then twice. Then again.

“Um… I think you got it.” You blushed.

“How long are we going to keep doing this?” He murmured, eyes fixed on the fingers that were still caressing your lips.

You swallowed. “Doing what?”

“Pretending.”

Your eyes widened and you pulled away suddenly, standing up straight instead. “Anyway-I-think-everything-is-going-to-work-out-great-your-girl-will-be-over-herself-in-no-time-at-all-and-you’ll-be-back-in-Linkon-before-you-know-it-okay-great-talk-I’m-gonna-go-wash-my-dishes-now-thank-you-so-much-for-the-meal.” You blurted out hurriedly before escaping to the kitchen.

“This is my house, you know. You can’t run and hide from me!” He called from the dining room, his voice getting louder as he made his way towards you.

“Not hiding!” You called back.

“Bullshit.” His arms wrapped around your waist, turning you to face him. He backed you against the kitchen counter. “Tell me the truth.”

You flinched. “I can’t.”

“You can, you just won’t. But if you’re gonna go and bottle up your feelings, then I can too, right?” His voice dropped to a low tone, almost like he was threatening you with his own feelings.

You sighed. “Fine. Fine, no secrets. But just… could you turn around and look the other way? I can’t say it when you’re looking at me like that.”

“No- you made me spill my guts to your face yesterday. It’s only fair you do the same.”

“Caleb!” You whined.

“No. Come on. Just tell me. I promise that whatever it is, it won’t make me think any less of you.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Alright. Okay. Fine. I’m in love with you. There. Happy?”

“Immensely.”

Without another word, he kissed you.

Your whole body froze. What? What was going on? Oh. You had to still be sleeping. That had to be it. There was no way he was actually kissing you. He was still in love with what's-her-face. There was no way he was-

His tongue slid into your mouth.

Your eyes squeezed shut as a whimper tumbled past your lips. Oh god, he was actually kissing you. And he tasted good. Kinda like porridge. But good. Oh god, why was he kissing you? Did you even care? Wait, yes, you very much did care. You very much did not want to be a rebound. No way in hell. You’d rather be in the friend zone than the rebound zone. God no.

You quickly pulled away from him, gasping for breath.

“Did you not like it?” He asked, eyes looking slightly hurt as they skimmed over you, trying to find an answer.

“Ha… did I like it? Of course I liked it.” You grumbled under your breath, still looking away from him.

“So then why-”

“Because I’m not her. I’m not sure if you realize that.” You’d snapped and you hadn’t meant to snap. Oh fuck, you really hadn’t meant to snap.

You heard him exhale a shaky breath.

Oh no. No, you really weren’t trying to hurt him. You immediately turned to reach for him.

“Ha. Got you to look at me.” He smirked.

Oh, you bastard. You scoffed and flicked him in the forehead. “Jackass. Why are you acting all hurt?”

He leaned in towards you, grinning. “Why are you acting all sensitive? Aren’t you in love with me? Usually, people wanna kiss the person they’re in love with; I mean, I get that you’re new at this love thing-” He teased.

You pinched his cheeks, interrupting his speech. “Yeah, yeah. You’re being a pain in my ass right now, you know that? And besides, I refuse to be your rebound, so maybe you should be careful who you go around kissing.”

His grin faded. “What do you mean? It’s not like I’m going around town kissing people. Just you. You’re the only one I want to kiss.”

You raised a brow at him, unconvinced. “You were just in love with someone else, only moments ago.”

“Hey, that was yesterday. I’m a whole new me today.” He attempted to joke lightheartedly but he couldn’t help the feeling of heaviness that had begun to settle in his chest. You didn’t believe him. Of course you didn’t believe him. He didn’t blame you, but it still hurt.

“Caleb- you were in love with her for years. That doesn’t just go away. I’m not gonna be the bandaid on a gaping wound.”

His expression grew serious and he straightened. “I know. I don’t expect you to be. But I think… I think we’ve been done for a while now. I just didn’t want to accept it. I was always… changing myself to be whatever I thought she’d like. When I finally got comfortable enough to show her who I really was… well, you know how that went. But you…you’re the only person who sees me and loves me anyway.”

“So what? Doesn’t mean you love me back.” It killed you to say the words, but it was true nonetheless. As badly as you wanted to be his, as badly as you wanted him to kiss you nonsensically until you forgot all rationale, until you forgot your own name, until you forgot what day it was, as badly as you wanted him to cuddle you to sleep, to be there when you woke in the morning, you didn’t want it if he didn’t want it. He’d had enough of pretending in his life; he didn’t need to pretend to love you back just to appease you. It’s not like you would quit your job if he rejected you. You’d already stayed by his side regardless of your feelings and his lack of return on them. You didn’t want to be just one more person he had to change for.

“No, you’re right. It doesn’t mean that. But I do love you, regardless. Love is a choice; I choose you.” He said it so simply. Like he was reciting a book, like he was just stating a fact.

“But what if I don’t want you to choose me just because I’m the only one who understands you? If someone else comes along who understands you just as well as I do, will you want them instead?”

He shook his head. “I’m not choosing you because you’re the only one who understands me. I’m choosing you because you’re the only one I want to understand me. You’re the only one who makes me laugh every damn day, the only one I want to laugh with every damn day. You’re the only person who tells me when I’m being stupid, and the only person I listen to when I’m being stupid. Hell, you’re the only person I can’t live without. I’ve already been living without her this entire time, between the long distance and the long missions, but from the moment I met you, I knew I’d need you. So let me need you. Let me love you.” He held his breath as he waited for your response. “It’s also a no charge on Caleb’s homemade meals for his girlfriend,” He added on lightheartedly, hoping you’d laugh.

You bit your lip in attempts not to.

But he knew you better than that. He grinned. “There she is. Hi, baby.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Caleb! You can’t just call me that- I’ve not even said yes yet!”

He smirked. “Yeah, but your cheeks already did.” He kissed each side of your blushing face.

“No charge on meals and you’re paying for concert tickets.” You grumbled, attempting to remain serious.

He laughed heartily. “Only you would attempt to put a price on a relationship. Fine. Sounds like a deal to me. I still think I got the better end of the bargain anyway.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him before beaming down at you and peppering you with light kisses here and there. “I get a woman who’s both generous and gorgeous. She just gets Caleb.”

“Well, Caleb is more than enough for her. She loves Caleb exactly the way he is.”

“He’s starting to love Caleb the way he is too. All because of her.”

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