#I’m bad at talking on stuff but I wanted to show my support

[caycanteven]

I’m pretty bad at talking when it’s real serious, but I’m gonna try to be direct.

My blog is a safe space.

Transphobes ARE NOT welcome. I’m open minded, but that’s one thing I’m not willing to be open minded about.

As an artist and writer in the UT fandom, I’m extremely supportive of Monsters being genderless and presenting as they choose. Many have already expressed and explained it well enough that I don’t have to, but I wanted to make it clear that it applies to my content.

Treat others the way you wanted to be treated. Be respectful to others and to yourself, but don’t let your values dictate how you treat another human being.

To my fellow LGBTQIA’s, you are welcomed here and supported!

[lilgynt]

went to that horror thing at that dudes house - it was fine and i had fun but it was just a groups of older white dudes and what comes from that like mostly fun! but watch out

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[lovebugism]

Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

[angelyuji]

stan pines dating headcanons

18+ minors dni!!

cw // sexual content under the cut!

MY LOVE

he is sooo my man i need him so bad

very old fashioned

asked you out first not cuz he thinks he’s the hottest guy in the world. but because “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take”

he told dipper and mabel he made that up first (he didn’t, he saw it on facebook) (they know he didn’t make it up, but they pretend they believe him)

“heya there, toots.” stan leans on your desk. you look at him, an eyebrow raised.

“hey, stan. need something?” you smile at him.

“yeah, you. me. date. whenever you’re free.” stan looks away, suddenly nervous.

“hmm, yeah, alright! i’m free tonight after work.” stan looks back at you, eyes wide in surprise, before collecting himself. he smiles.

“great, great, i’ll pick you up at 8, dollface.”

calls you pet names that were popular in the 70s/80s: dollface, sweetcheeks, baby, cutie, sugar

stan believes you deserve the world so he yk he’s treating you soooo well

he doesn’t think he deserves you, so he tries so so so hard to treat you well

he believes he’s fucked up every good thing in his life, so when you guys get together, he tries so hard to be a good partner to you

takes you out anywhere you want, even if its something he hates.

you tell him you want to see some movie in theaters, he’s gonna say no and be huffy cuz he’d rather stay home and save money. but the next day he’s gonna show up at your door with the tickets, rolling his eyes, telling you to get in the car

takes you with him to break laws and steal stuff with him

you’re a total nervous wreck but stan’s laughing and holding your hand and you know that everything’s gonna turn out alright.

he buys you clothes sometimes but he’s not up with fashion, so not usually.

any time he does, its usually because he took mabel shopping and he saw something that he thought you would like

more of a listener than a yapper like he’ll listen to you go on and on about something without stopping. you’re his personal podcast. he also loves when you watch his soap operas with him

hehehe im gonna fuck this old man so hard he’s gonna stop breaking traffic laws

sooo smooth and flirty, but he gets over obviously red in the face and its cute asf

he was kinda insecure about his body at first, but seeing how obsessed you are with him when you guys sleep together, he’s all like “heh, i still got it” and he smirks cuz he’s a little shit

likes to be on top, call him old-fashioned, but he likes looking down at you and seeing your face as he makes you feel good

he’s a man of routine, however you can convince him to do different positions or things in the bedroom because at the end of the day, you’re his everything

he goes slow, doesn’t go crazy and jackhammer into you

last time he went too fast, he threw his back out and you had to run through the shack butt-naked looking for his lumbar support pillow

he doesn’t like to talk about it, it was super embarrassing for the both of you lowkey

you were sweet about it tho, i mean, he is in his 70s and you found it sweet he almost destroyed his back to make you feel good

absolutely lovessss receiving head

he’s alsooo a giver dw, certified muncher??? or wtv they say, but he personally likes getting more

anyway back to the cutesy stuff

sometimes he asks you to help him build some stuff for the shack

you get to see stan be creative and create art, as well as fix stuff around the shack (if soos isn’t around)

a lot of duct tape related fixing, but watching him work is hot so u don’t care

i love u stanley pines i need u so bad pls pls pls ruin my life

[thefirsthogokage]

Fuck AMPTP and the bullshit going on. I'm tired, might not do this well:

(link to article in above picture) From The Article

Receiving positive feedback from Wall Street since the WGA went on strike May 2, Warner Bros Discovery, Apple, Netflix, Amazon, Disney, Paramount and others have become determined to “break the WGA,” as one studio exec blatantly put it.

To do so, the studios and the AMPTP believe that by October most writers will be running out of money after five months on the picket lines and no work.

“The endgame is to allow things to drag on until union members start losing their apartments and losing their houses,” a studio executive told Deadline. Acknowledging the cold-as-ice approach, several other sources reiterated the statement. One insider called it “a cruel but necessary evil.”

The studios and streamers’ next think financially strapped writers would go to WGA leadership and demand they restart talks before what could be a very cold Christmas. In that context, the studios and streamers feel they would be in a position to dictate most of the terms of any possible deal.

[Image IDs: Twitter thread by David Slack posted July 12th, 2023 that reads in totality:

And right on cue, here’s the inevitable Deadline article claiming that the AMPTP and their CEO bosses are ready to wait us out and let us “go broke.”

They’re not. They can’t. This studio propaganda, and here’s why.

In the increasingly mega-merged and hedgefundified Hollywood, these companies live or die on their quarterly earnings reports. It only takes one bad quarter for their stock price to plunge, putting the company and the CEO’s job in jeopardy.

But their stock prices are holding steady, right? Right. For now. Because our industry is a pipeline that starts with writers. The TV and movies they’re releasing now are shows we started making for them 4-12 quarters ago. But what happens when that pipeline runs dry?

What happens is they run out of product. No new shows in streaming to drive and sustain subscribers. No new shows in broadcast and ad-supported to bring in ad revenue.

No shows, no money.

No money, bad earnings report.

Bad earnings report, bye-bye stock price. Bye-bye CEO.

After 70+ days with no writers to create their product for them, the pipeline is running dry.

Their stock price isn’t tanking yet. But if they don’t make a deal with us, it will.

And they know it.

If they make a deal soon, they might be able to weather it. Stretch out releases. Rush some new stuff through.

But the longer they keep us out, the longer that pipeline runs dry, the more unavoidable a catastrophic dip in new high-quality shows becomes.

And they know it.

So yeah, the studios are planting articles in the trades that make it sound like they’re so determined not to pay us the 0.02% of company revenues we’re asking for that they’re willing to hold out forever.

Bullshit.

I’m sure the AMPTP bosses would love to break our union. But they love their jobs more. They love money more. They can’t make that money without us.

And they know it.

Ignore the trades, walk the line, stand together, and win. #WGAStrong

/End ID]

Bonus: John Rogers' Reaction

[Image ID: A tweet from John Rogers that he posted July 12th, 2023 that reads:

I was trying to be cool and professional about this strike, but this AMPTP “we want to drive them to homelessness” shit means I’m going to be dug in at WB Gate 4 like Hiroo Onada. They’re gonna have to send @ellenstutzman with a bullhorn to order me out of the bushes.

The second image is Ellen Stutzman's Twitter bio that says:

Cheif Negotiator for WGA MBA, Assistant Executive Director, Writers Guild of America, West; Cornell ILR and UCLA Anderson alum. Views are my own.

/End ID]

EDIT: Please see the update on this HERE

[louiseolivier]

08x06 Delulu

Tevan are at the Italian restaurant. The Hot Waiter flirts with Buck. Buck's kinda oblivious. He unintentionally flirts back. Buck pays this time, and inside the folder with his card and receipt is Hot Waiter's phone number. Buck is a little weirded out because he feels like it's obvious he and Tommy are on a date.

For the most part, Tommy watches Buck and Hot Waiter's interaction in amusement. He jokes whether Buck is he's going to call him, and Buck is taken aback. Then Tommy gets serious.

"We haven't really talked about the kind of relationship you want."

Buck's confused. "What does that mean?"

"Just that there's more than one way to be in a relationship. I've been in a couple that were open."

"Open?"

"We were allowed to sleep with other people."

"I know what it means, Tommy. Is that what you want?"

"I want you to be happy. I want you to know I'm amenable to that if you're interested. Truth be told, Evan, the most important thing is that you're in my life, whether we’re together or not. 

Suddenly, the Ironside siren goes off in Buck’s head, and he’s spiraling.  

Tommy clasps his hand and looks at him like he’s the goddamn sun, moon, and stars. “Think about it. It’s not like it’s something you have to decide today.”

Cue Buck, going to Bobby. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck, but I’ve seen you two together. I don’t think breaking up is something Tommy is even thinking about. The other stuff...you should talk to Tommy. Be upfront. Be honest. 

Cue Buck, going to Maddie. “Buck, he kissed you while you were still covered in boils. I saw that with my own eyes and wished I hadn’t. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but he does seem very committed to you. And to be perfectly honest, the open relationship doesn’t sound like something he’d suggest out of thin air. Maybe you said something...”

“You’re blaming me? Come on, Maddie! You know damn well that’s not how I roll. I slept around, yeah, but not while I was in a relationship - and don’t you dare bring up Taylor! Besides, an agreed upon “open” means consensual. I just - how did I miss that this was something he was interested in? Why would he wait six months to bring it up?”

A sound of disgust emanates from the corner of the call center's breakroom, and the Buckley siblings' heads swivel to its location. Josh is sitting at a table, sipping his coffee and rolling his eyes. “You sweet naive baby bi.” He gets up from his chair, sidles up to Buck, and eyes the donuts he brought for Maddie. “I don’t suppose there's a Bavarian cream in there?”

“There’s a jelly,” Buck says. 

“But jellies are my favorite,” Maddie complains. 

“Too bad. I’m about to help your chaotic brother out, so I deserve it.” Josh bites into the donut and gives an appreciative moan. “Oh god, I haven’t had refined sugar in three days. How I missed you.”

“Back to me, please,” Buck says with a whine.

“Look, it’s pretty simple. There are only two types of guys who want to open up a relationship after the six-month mark. Assholes carrying multiple red flags or..”

“Tommy’s not an asshole,” Buck tells him firmly. 

“Considering he’d whittle a rocking chair if you asked him to, I’d agree. Buck, my guess is he’s scared. He's worried that if he doesn't give you a free pass, that you'll get bored with him and leave.”

“That’s so stupid,” Buck cries in dismay. 

Maddie lays a supportive hand on his bicep. 

“It is,” Josh agrees. “But just because your man is a solid L.A. nine doesn’t mean he’s not carrying around a lot of insecurities. Talk to him. Tell him. And hey, if it all blows up on you, send him my way. I’d love to be that man’s shoulder to cry on.”

Buck shows up at Tommy’s door. Tommy is supposed to come to his after finishing his laundry, but Buck doesn’t want to wait that long. “Hey,” Tommy greets him with that scrunchy smile Buck loves so much. 

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else,” Buck tells him as he barges through the door. 

“Oh-kay,” Tommy says, closing the door behind Buck. 

“Do you want to have sex with other men?”

Tommy crosses his arms, and his head tilts towards the ground. “No. I’ve come to learn that’s not an ideal situation for me.”

Buck scoffs. “Then why suggest it?”

The buzzer on the washer goes off, and Tommy moves towards it to switch out the load. “I don’t know. I’m pretty used to you flirting with everyone.”

“You think I flirt?” 

“Evan, you told the waiter you liked his chinos while eyeing his ass. Most of the time, I think it’s cute how you rile people up without realizing it, but then I have a thought like, what if Hot Waiter would be a better match for you? So I panicked and threw out that suggestion.” 

“Jesus, Tommy. For the past six months, my brain has been consumed by nothing but you. Yet you think I can be swayed by some guy in a comfortable pair of pants? I only want you.”

“I know. I do. You prove that to me every day. I didn’t suggest it because I don’t trust you.” Tommy tosses one of Buck’s hoodies into the dryer and starts it. He can’t keep eye contact with Buck for more than a few seconds, and he looks paler than when Buck first arrived. Tommy’s also picking his middle fingernail with his thumb, and that’s Tommy’s tell that he’s feeling overwhelmed. “Uh, so like, I’m in this for the long haul. I think you’re it for me, Evan, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you’ve settled or...”

“I love you,” Buck tells him with a certainty he doesn’t think he felt even eight hours ago, but it’s the god’s honest truth. “Just seeing you makes me feel so full I could combust. ”

Tommy’s eyes are glossy and he blinks rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He finally locks eyes with Buck. “Loving you has been living in the back of my mind since...I honestly don’t know how long. I’ve been trying to temper my expectations because I haven’t been super successful in relationships. But then you started leaving clothes here, and suddenly you’ve infiltrated my life like no one else has been willing to. Next thing I know, I’m at a funeral for a long dead cowboy. I watched you embrace the memory of a forgotten man, and I realized I couldn’t love you more, Evan. Boils and all.”

Aaaaand that’s it. I’m tapped out.

[edenfenixblogs]

On the status of my “The Antisemitism Experiment” tag:

So, when something is a straight up experience that someone had, I reblog it and add it to the queue.

When it’s something that’s full of misinformation that I need to fact check and provide sources for, I often put it in drafts until I have the emotional capacity to deal with it. I have never even used the drafts function before starting this experiment. Everything in my drafts is from the experiment.

My Queue currently has 23 items.

My Drafts currently have 828 items.

Not even including the amount of antisemitic stuff I’ve already posted to the queue and removed from drafts, I want all the people who have sent me inbox messages or posted about experiences or felt like I’m not including enough in my queue: I know.

I see you. The amount of insane misinformation we must combat is so unfair. The amount of grace under pressure and distress we must show in order for others to take our suffering seriously is unfair. The amount of misinformation that people uncritically take as fact is so harmful and unfair.

And that’s all JUST the stuff I think is bad enough to be queued. The amount of insane bullshit I see every day is sickening and inexplicable.

This is why we Jews are so desperately asking for IRL visible support from our friends. We know how much antisemitic bullshit is out there. And the fact that non-Jews aren’t talking about it regularly makes us wonder if it’s because you believe it and agree with it.

It’s too ever present. It’s too widespread. And if you haven’t even privately reached out to your Jewish friends to check in or acknowledge their pain proactively, you’re part of the problem. If you’ve actively distanced yourself from Jewish friends, you’ve done more damage than you’ll ever know. And it’s something that should haunt you for a lifetime. It’s something you should learn from. It’s something you need to make amends for.

It’s never too late to reach out to a Jew you care about. It’s never too late to apologize to a Jew you’ve abandoned and to do better by them. Nobody acting in good faith is asking you to stop caring about Palestinian life. All we are asking is for you to care about Jews. Because we are people too.

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

So Wrong, Yet so Right

TW/CW: MDNI/ 18+. Step bro Geto x Gojo x Reader. Stepcest. AFAB Reader. Slightly dubcon, dirty talk, spit kink, praise, degradation, oral (m giving, m receiving, f giving, f receiving), Geto and Gojo action, fingering (vaginal, anal) vaginal sex, anal sex, DP, hair pulling, choking, dirty talk, pwp, filth. Pure absolute filth. (If there’s anything else that should be added, please bring it to my attention)

NSFW below 🤭

Suguru absolutely 100% did NOT plan on spending his evening trying desperately to drown out the sounds of his step sister being fucked by his best friend. No, he figured him and Satoru could finally have some down time and actually hang out. But you just had to show up. Suguru almost didn’t let you in, rolling his eyes when you showed up, but if he told you to go home he knew he’d hear it from Satoru.

Suguru had been about 90% sure he wasn’t into women, having fallen head over heels for his white haired best friend back in their teen years, but then his dad remarried and you came in, like a steam roller. There was something about you that just, did something to him, but of course he never acted on it, you were younger than him, and he was your STEP sibling. How vile would that be?

But it didn’t take long until you hit your twenties, blossoming into an adult,and Suguru couldn’t take it anymore. The way your fingers would dance on his arm when you laughed at something he said would make his dick jump in his pants. How absolutely adorable you’d look, shuffling out of your room in the morning, wrapped in a blanket, yawning consistently until you had a cup of coffee, it simply took his breath away. And when your parents were gone, and he could hear the lewd noises you made, drove him crazy. He knew he could do a better job than your fingers, and you’d certainly feel better than his hand. Countless times has he gotten off to the sound of you, biting down on a knuckle as he came to muffle his groans.

So when Satoru offered Suguru a room in his house, Suguru jumped at the chance. Plus he was in his mid twenties now, and needed to leave the nest. He can support himself with his job, but Satoru already said he didn’t have to worry about money, since he was practically bathing in the stuff.

And so he departed, perhaps he could finally work up the nerve to tell Satoru how he felt. Suguru knew he swung both ways, but he was always so worried about damaging their friendship, that he kept his feelings to himself. Sometimes he asked himself if he was fucked up. How could he want both his best friend, and his step sister.

So suffice to say, he was a fair bit shocked when he answered the door a week later and you were standing there.

“Sugu!!!!” You had gushed, practically leaping into his arms for a hug. “I missed ya so much!”

“You should have texted me, I would have-“

“Oh shit yeah, my bad, I figured Satoru would have let you know I was coming.” You had cut him off, chewing on your lip.

“Huh?” Geto had questioned. He knew you and Satoru were friendly, always getting along when he had come over. You’d often join them to hang out, and Suguru knew you’d sometimes meet up with Satoru for a coffee.

“Anyways,” you had ignored his puzzled look, kicking your shoes off, and taking your jacket off. “I’m gonna head upstairs, I’ll see you later Sugu.”

Suguru watched you head upstairs, already knowing how to get there, before also heading upstairs and heading to his room. He laid down on his bed, processing everything, and less than twenty minutes later his suspicions were confirmed.

“Oh fuck Satoruuu!” Your moans somehow seeping through the walls. His emotions were haywire right now, he felt jealous, sad, angry, and turned on.

Suguru wanted to go do or say something, but instead he found himself pulling down his sweats and fisting his cock. He could hear nearly everything, the headboard hitting the wall, Satoru’s groans, your moans. He felt so disgusted at how fucking turned on he was. Using two hands to satisfy himself, one working on the tip, oozing with pre, and the other pumping his thick, veiny length. He closed his eyes, visualizing your mouth on his tip, while Satoru strokes him, talking you both through it.

“Aw look how cute your lil step sis is, taking your cock like a good girl. N look at you. So fuckin needy for us both Suguru.” Gojo would purr, while Suguru held a fistful of your hair, his eyes locked on Satoru’s.

“Y’gonna cum for me princess?” Suguru heard Gojo groan, and fuck, he would give anything, absolutely anything even just to watch.

Suguru had spat on his hand, swirling it over the tip of his cock and let a soft moan out. He would love to watch Satoru cum in your mouth, then have you kiss him. He had quickened his pace when he heard your moans increasing, wanting to cum with you.

“Nngh! Fuck m’cummin fuckohshit ‘Torruuu!”

Suguru’s balls had tightened up as he stroked himself furiously, allowing himself to moan, as his load shot all over his chest. His breath coming in short bursts. Yeah, this about confirms that he’s fucked up, who even does this kinda shit.

He had cleaned himself off, thanking Satoru in his head for having an en suite bathroom in his room. He ran the shower as hot as he could stand, hoping to wash away whatever the fuck it was that came over him. But he knew that he was tarnished. Thankfully he was able to go to sleep not long after his shower, and you were already gone when he woke up in the morning.

Suguru had gone downstairs, finding Satoru already tearing into some food he had ordered.

“Hey, I didn’t know if you were hungry or not but I ordered you some food.” Satoru had said, around bites of his food.

“Thanks.” Suguru had sat down, grabbing a breakfast sandwich from the take out bag. “So quick question. When were you gonna tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Satoru had paused to think. “Oh shit yeah, man I thought you knew?”

“That you were fucking my sister? Nah, nobody thought to inform me of this situation.” Suguru had rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal, would have been nice to have a heads up though.”

“Hey if you don’t want it to be a thing, you can tell me, it’s not like we’re dating or anything, it’s just casual.” Suguru had looked apologetic. “I can call her right now and-“

“Satoru. It’s fine honestly. I’d rather her be hooking up with someone I trust, rather than some idiot. Not that you’re not an idiot but still.” Suguru had smirked.

Satoru had playfully punched Suguru, before ensuring that next time they would be quieter.

But it didn’t matter. It was the same thing everytime. Suguru listening to his best friend making you come undone, fisting his cock and trying to shower away everything. Eventually he started feeling such shame that he started throwing on his headphones whenever he knew you’d be over, but he could somehow still hear you.

So tonight, he’s actually pissed. You had shown up, totally unplanned, and Suguru didn’t feel like dealing with it, so after rolling his eyes at you, he had let you in. You hadn’t even said hi to him at all, just sashayed your way upstairs. Suguru knew he could just easily go out somewhere for a few hours, then come back, but he enjoyed his time spent at home.

Finally, Suguru has had enough, tossing his headphones on the bed unceremoniously before standing up and walking to his door, opening it and walking down the hallway. Suguru’s heart was pounding, and he wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety or anger, but as he marched towards Satoru’s room he didn’t really care.

Suguru rapped on the door loudly, hoping that you both get the hint, but before he can turn on his heel to leave he’s met with Satoru’s voice.

“Come in!”

“Huh?!” Suguru’s jaw dropped.

“You heard him Sugu, come in.” Your voice is seductive, almost like a siren.

Suguru swallows, his throat feels tight, his palms have a sheen of sweat on them. He reaches for the doorknob, and turns it slowly while pushing the door open. And he’s taken aback by the sight that greets him.

Neither of you are naked, you’re in your bra and panties, and Satoru is shirtless but wearing sweats. Probably the weirdest thing is that you’re sprawled out on Satoru’s bed, typing something on your phone, while Satoru sits at his desk with his laptop open. Suguru furrows his brows, utterly confused by the whole situation.

“Oh fuuuuck Satoru!” Comes from the speaker conveniently placed at the foot of the bed.

“Huh? What’s going on?” Suguru questions, being met by smirks from both you and Satoru. That’s when he notices the video on Satoru’s computer. Showing you and Gojo lying on opposite ends of the king sized bed, rocking around, groaning and moaning while you both were on your phones.

“We figured some day you’d come in and tell us off,” you start explaining, “since neither of us wanted to be the ones to approach you.”

Suguru looks totally lost.

“Suguru, did you think you weren’t obvious?” Satoru grins. “We’ve known that you’ve wanted us both for the longest time. You’re not very subtle. And when we heard the groaning coming from you the first night she came over, that pretty much confirmed it.”

Suguru’s cheeks flush, and he feels like he could curl up in a ball right there and just simply pass away. He was an absolute idiot, and he had no idea how he would live this down. He turns to leave the room but you spring up and grab his hand.

“Where are you going? The whole point of this was to get you in here.” You explain.

“Why? To ridicule me? To taunt me about it? To tor-“ Suguru hadn’t noticed Gojo getting up from his chair and walking towards him, so absorbed by his secret being in the open. So when he was spun to face Satoru, and met with his lips, he didn’t know what to do. He parted his lips and let Satoru take the lead, placing a hand on the back of his neck, while he kissed his best friend. Suguru has never felt like this, it feels so perfect, so right, so calming, yet invigorating.

“Gojo! You’re such an ASS! I wanted to be the first one to kiss him.” You pout.

Satoru breaks the kiss to stick his tongue out at you. “Could you even have reached his lips from down there?”

“SHUT UP GOJO!” You shout.

“Why dontcha make me?” Gojo shoots back. “Anyways, if you wanna kiss him so bad go for it.”

Suguru turns his attention to you, and you find yourself getting lost in his dark eyes. You’ve been wanting to do this forever, the feelings between you seemingly mutual.

When you first told Satoru about your feelings for your step brother, you felt so awkward. Of course there was also an attraction to Satoru, but he already knew about that. And Satoru had surprised you, confessing mutual feelings of attraction. So it seemed that all three of you were pining for each other. And that’s when Satoru schemed up the plan, which actually worked.

“Suguru, please kiss me.” You breathe.

And he does and oh my god it’s magical. He tastes slightly of cinnamon, and he wastes no time pushing his tongue into your mouth, exploring it. You moan into his mouth, and he pulls you in closer to him, you suck on his tongue and his hand wraps around your hair. You press your body into him, feeling his muscles even in between your clothes.

“Fuck you two are so hot…” Gojo announces before pulling you away from Suguru. “But I want a taste too.”

With that, he easily lifts you, placing you on the bed, before diving in to kiss you. Satoru is rougher than Suguru, biting down on your lip, tracing your lips with his tongue, and when you try to put your tongue in his mouth, he nips at it while smirking into the kiss.

Suguru watches feeling himself grow hard. Watching his best friend kiss his step sister should not affect him like this, but he’s past the point of caring now. Almost as if in a trance, he sits down on the bed, as places a hand on your thigh. Your skin is so soft, it drives him crazy and he can’t help but want to taste you. And so he repositions himself between your legs, after spreading them open trailing kisses on your thighs.

You moan into Satoru’s mouth, feeling yourself clench around nothing. You’ve barely even been touched yet you’re dripping. Satoru breaks the kiss to bite your neck and suck on it, before undoing your bra and pulling back to admire your tits. Then his mouth is on your nipple, sucking the bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

Suguru licks a stripe up your panties, feeling the wetness through them. He groans before ripping them off you.

“S-Suguru!” You protest. “Those were expensive!”

“I’ll buy you new ones, doll.” Satoru offers, before readjusting himself so he can lift you onto his lap. “Looks like I get front row tickets. Suguru~ are you gonna keep her waiting or?”

“Satoru you need to be muzzled.” Suguru chides.

“Tell ya what Suguru, I’ll watch you two, then she can watch us, then we can have her at the same time…Sound like a plan?” Satoru grins.

Suguru rolls his eyes before finally licking your exposed pussy, and it’s like nectar from the Gods themselves, fuck of course you tasted amazing. His tongue probes in and out of your hole, pulling soft mewls from your throat while Satoru trails his fingers up and down your body. Suguru finds your clit and god, the way your body jumps, the way your hands pull at his hair.

“Mmmhn Suguru, feels so good fuck.” You moan.

Satoru presses his lips against your ear. “He’s good at that isn’t he? You should have done this a long time ago huh? Now you’ve got us both, what a needy little slut.” Satoru pinches your nipples just as Suguru pushes a finger inside of you, and pleasure shoots through you.

“Keep talkin’ to her like that Satoru, I think she likes it.” Suguru offers before getting right back to his feast on your cunt.

“Is he right? D’ya like this? Like being between me n your step brother huh? Been such a tease to us both for so long n now you’re ours. Can’t wait to have you creamin’ on both of us.” Suguru drawls, his lips brushing against your ears with every syllable. “Actually, yknow what, I can’t wait. Open your mouth.”

You do so, just for Satoru to spit in it.

“Aht! Don’t swallow it. Suguru, why don’t you get some too?” Satoru orders.

Reluctantly Suguru pulls away from your pussy, taking his clothes off and coming to a seat, while you hold Satoru’s spit in your mouth.

“That’s it don’t be shy, kiss her n take my spit.”

Suguru does so, somehow feeling himself get even harder as you swap the spot into his mouth, pulling you into a messy kiss.

Satoru smirks as he watches the two of you, his hands creeping up your legs before pushing a finger into you and palming Suguru. His plan worked out just perfectly, nobody would have to choose and the three of you would be a power throuple.

As Satoru’s fingers curl and scissor inside of you, you feel pressure building. You break away from the kiss. “M so close, Suguru, please go down on me n Satoru don’t stop.” Your words come out in a whisper.

Suguru angles himself so Satoru can still finger you and ravishes your clit. The sensations are amazing, like nothing you’ve felt before. Both men are incredibly skilled and it’s not long before you can feel your orgasm come to a high. Satoru grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Eyes on me while you cum. Don’t fuckin’ look away.” And you do as he says, while he pushes a second finger inside you and that’s all it takes.

“Ohhh fuckkkk! Suguru! Satoru! Shit fuck fuck m’cumming, m’fucking agh!!!” It shoots through you like a firework, like a loose wire connecting to still water. Your muscles tense and release, you’re babbling incoherently, and both of them continue working you through your orgasm until you’re panting and begging them to stop.

“Mmm, looks like our girl needs a little bit of a break.” Satoru suggests.

“Yeah and I’ve got the perfect idea of what we can do.” Suguru smirks, grabbing the back of Satoru’s head and pulling him towards his cock. Gojo opens his mouth, eager to please, sucking on the head of Geto’s cock. “Sh-shit. I told you you needed to be muzzled.”

You watch with blown out pupils as Gojo slowly starts swallowing Geto’s length, like he’s an expert at this. Geto’s hand wrapped around a shock of white hair, biting on his lower lip and looking down at his best friend. The sounds of sucking and slight gagging filling the room. You find yourself crawling over and wrapping your lips around Gojo’s cock, taking him as far back into your throat as possible, before pulling away, spitting on it, and sucking him down again.

“Oh f-fuck that’s so hot. Satoru, throat fuck her.” Geto commands.

Suguru’s dick twitches at the sight and sound, Gojo on his knees, sucking him dry, while your body was curled around so you could give Gojo head. Gojo holding your head in place as he thrust into you, not even allowing you a chance to adjust to his size as he buried his shaft inside your throat, your gags were like music. But Suguru couldn’t let Satoru have all the fun so he held onto the back of his neck, giving Gojo the same treatment you were receiving. Watching as tears filled those crystalline eyes and drool seeped out of the corners of his mouth.

Without any sort of warning, Gojo shoots his load into the back of your throat, moaning around Geto’s dick. You continue sucking him, milking him for every drop before pulling away and kissing Suguru with the last bits of Satoru’s cum in your mouth. Suguru stops throat fucking Satoru, instead pushing you onto your back, and climbing on top of you, his tip sitting right by your entrance.

“Please.” You breathe out shakily. “Please Suguru.”

“Please what? Use your words princess.” Suguru teases his cock against you, rubbing it against your folds.

“Please fuck me Suguru, fuck me stupid please. You and Satoru, please.” You cry.

Suguru aims himself and pushes in, and it feels like a vice. He’s only gotten his tip in, and you’re already clawing at the bedsheets. You grit your teeth and turn your head to see Satoru facing his phone at you. You smile and look directly at the camera.

“Oh fuck, you two are so fucking hot. Hey Suguru, how’s it feel to finally be fucking your step sis?” Satoru asks, while pulling out a tripod and setting his phone up.

“Feels so tight, feels like I shoulda fucked her ages ago.” At every syllable he pushes his cock in a little more, meeting a bit less resistance. He’s stretching you out so much, you feel like you might break.

“Sugu s’big, s’too big.” You protest.

“Shhh, it’s okay, just lemme get it all in.”

Suguru pushes into you quickly, and you scream into Satoru’s mouth as he buries his tongue as far as it will go, while wrapping a hand around your throat.

Suguru pounds into you slowly as Satoru continues kissing you, his free hand trailing down to your clit, rubbing it at just too slow a pace. Your moans being swallowed by Satoru as Suguru fucks into you. Satoru breaks the kiss.

“My turn.” He says to Suguru.

Suguru obliges, pulling out of you with a POP! And Satoru takes his position, impaling you on his cock, hand still wrapped around your throat, not breaking eye contact with you.

“You’re such a slut aren’t ya? Taking our cocks so good, so cock hungry huh?” Satoru babbles.

“Y-yes.” You mumble.

“Words, princess.” Suguru instructs.

“Y-yes I’m such a slut, I’m both Suguru and Satoru’s slut. I want both of you at the same time, PLEASE!” You beg.

“Flip her over Satoru.” Geto suggests as he opens Gojo’s drawer to grab a bottle of lube.

Satoru does so, still fucking into you. “How’d you know that was there?”

Suguru just rolls his eyes while squeezing lube onto your ass and his fingers. You feel his finger fondling your asshole, and your muscles immediately tighten up.

“Relax princess. I’m not going to hurt you. Just breathe for me, and focus on how good Satoru is making you feel.” Suguru calms you down.

As he slowly inserts a finger, Satoru slows down his pace, preferring to thrust longer and deeper while he watches Suguru’s lithe finger prep your ass. He feels you gush around him, and moans.

“Knew you could take it. Fuck Suguru I can feel your finger on my cock.” Satoru giggles.

Suguru pulls out, adding another digit, scissoring inside of you. Satoru isn’t even thrusting anymore, just rotating his hips, entranced by the scene in front of him. When Suguru is able to pull his fingers out and push them back in he figures you’re prepped enough.

“I think she’s ready.” Suguru lays on his back, pulling you on top of him. “Satoru start fucking her.”

Satoru pushes into your pussy, feeling you clench around him, as you moan his name and wrap your arms around him.

Suguru lets you adjust and whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna put it in now, bite down on Satoru’s shoulder if it hurts.”

You feel him push in, and your body spasms. You do bite on Satoru’s shoulder but quickly back off. You’re absolutely stuffed full and oh my god. There’s pain, pleasure, everything in between. You’re sandwiched between the sexiest men on this planet, both of them fucking into you as though they needed to fuck you to live.

“S-Satoru I can feel you inside of her. Fuck.” Geto moans, his eyes becoming glazed over with pure lust.

“Y-yeah I feel you too. Shit it’s so tight, y’both gonna make me cum again.” Satoru groans.

“We gotta make our princess cum first. Can y’do that for us? Cum on both our cocks at the same time?” Geto asks.

“Yeah, cum all over our cocks, fuck make it real sloppy for us.”

The dirty talk, the pressure, everything has you seeing stars, words aren’t even forming as you lose yourself to another orgasm, an absolutely bone shattering, tremor inducing crescendo of pleasure. Sweat coats your body as you drool all over yourself, your orgasm coming out in a wet sticky mess.

“Good fucking girl.” Geto growls into your ear. “Y’gonna take both of our cum?”

You moan feebly. You can’t even think at all. You just know that you are theirs, their little fuck doll.

“Oh fuck, m’cumming. Fucking gonna breed you full y’slut, put my baby into you, fuck. Show the world you’re ours.” Gojo stammers his words out as he shoots ropes into you, fucking them back into you before pulling out.

Geto stops fucking you just to switch holes, burying himself deep inside your pussy, his cock pushing into Gojo’s cum.

“Fuck princess, you’re so fucking tight, god I love you. M’cumming.” Shooting his own seed into you, mingling with Satoru’s cum. Panting, and huffing as he stills beneath you. If you did get pregnant, you wouldn’t know whose it was.

Your eyes becoming heavy as Geto raises your body to slip out from under you. Feeling both men on either side of you as you feel yourself drifting off, your face being peppered by kisses.

(A/N I’m probably going to do a second part with more detail in the smut, I wanted to have more Geto and Gojo action but I was becoming burnt out.)

[superiorsturgeon]

Jaune: *walks into Arc family living room to confront his mother* Mom, we need to talk!

Pyrrha: *following behind Jaune*

Mama Arc: *folds her arms* 🤨

Jaune: I know you’re just trying to protect me, and I know it’s not what you wanted for me…

Jaune: But Pyrrha is my partner and she’s not going anywhere!

Pyrrha: Yeah! How do you like THAT?! 😜

Pyrrha: *immediately hides behind Jaune* 😣

Jaune: *slowly turns* …Pyr…we talked about not doing that… 😑

Mama Arc: Look, Jaune, I’m not trying to control you, but you’re just so young! You don’t know what kind of hurt you could be setting yourself up for! Fame and celebrity can destroy a relationship, and I don’t want you to have to go through that!

Pyrrha: 😥

Mama Arc: Pyrrha may be your partner now while you’re both in school, but once you’re out in the real world-

Jaune: Mom, that’s enough! 😠

Mama Arc: *pulled up short* 😦

Jaune: *straightens up* Pyrrha is strong, skilled, and the greatest huntress I’ve ever met! But she’s also the sweetest, kindest, most loving and caring person in the world…

Jaune: *turns and takes Pyrrha’s hand* I know that she’s a celebrity, and a lot of people expect a lot from her, so there’s going to be a lot of tough stuff for us to deal with, but we’re partners and we’re going to figure it out together!

Pyrrha: 😳

Jaune: *smiles at Pyrrha* …I’m the luckiest person ever to have her as my partner, and I want to spend the rest of my life trying to be the partner Pyrrha deserves! 🥰

Pyrrha: 🥹

Mama Arc: *puts her hands on her hips and steps closer* …well, it sounds like you’re all grown up and making decisions now, aren’t you, Jaune? You left home for the first time and suddenly my little boy knows what he wants for the rest of his life? 🤨

Mama Arc: *somehow looming over her much-taller son* Well, Jaune, you’ve said your piece, and now it’s time for you to listen to your mother! 😡

Jaune/Pyrrha: 😰

Mama Arc: …I’m proud of you, Jaune! 😌

Jaune:

Pyrrha:

Jaune: …wha…?

Mama Arc: I did everything I could to change your mind about combat school, becoming a huntsman, and dating Pyrrha, but you stuck to your guns and showed me how much your partner and becoming a huntsman mean to you!

Mama Arc: You two have my blessing, and if you’re really determined to make this relationship work, then you have your mother’s complete support.

Jaune: *sags in relief* Wow…! Mom, thank you so much! I can’t begin to- 😮‍💨

Mama Arc: AH-AH-AH!!! But remember, I will be watching you both! I expect you to buckle down and treat combat school and your relationship seriously!

Mama Arc: And if you do something stupid…

Mama Arc: …like get Pyrrha pregnant while you’re still in school…

Mama Arc: …then I will be there like lightning to drag you home by your ear! 😠

Pyrrha: …oh…then I guess this would be a bad time for…the NEWS…😖

Jaune: 😨

Mama Arc: 🤯

Pyrrha: …I’m kidding! I’m just so excited!! 😆

[lovelookspretty]

not so bad

college!rafe cameron x reader au

— in which rafe and y/n absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned y/n as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.

warning(s): nothing bad at all !! just cute stuff. lots of friendship. rafe admiring y/n lowkey

authors note: OKAYY??? EHHEHEHEHE, ty for all the support lately. i appreciate u guys sm !! <3 lmk if u want a follow back or to be tagged from now on. all u have to do is comment underneath or send me an anon msg (whatever ur comfy with) and i’ll see it !!

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

“so you and rafe cameron are just friends now?” aria asks as you two sit in the dining hall together for breakfast. it’s the the morning after and you told her just an hour before this that you and rafe are on new terms. new, relieving terms.

you nod as you pick at your food with your fork. “yeah, and hopefully for a while,” you say before frowning, “being someones enemy is not easy work.”

she giggles at you, “well i’m glad you two have started over.”

“me too,” you agree with a desperate nod, and she giggles once more before she picks up a phone call and eats while talking to her sister most likely.

your eyes trail around the dining hall as you dig your fork into your food and eat. after the brief phone call, aria sets down her phone and you take the opportunity right away to bring up your soon-plans.

“so, um, speaking of new friends, i wanted to talk to you about something,” you begin, your voice tentative. “rafe invited me to some coffee shop slash live music show with him and his friends later today, and i was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

arias eyes widen from across the table, “hanging out with his inner circle? wow you two move fast!”

you roll your eyes, but your cheeks flush at the tease. “it’s not even like that,” you insist with a wave of your hand. “i can probably get rafe to pay for both of our drinks if you go with me. it’s at five.”

aria gives you a ‘you don’t have to do that look’ as she shakes her head, her voice clear, “i’m a little booked and busy, i have to call my mom as soon as she gets off of work today at five. maybe another day?”

you nod with a smile. “whatever works,” you tell her. aria smiles back at you. you have no problem with her being busy, it just would’ve been nice to have her there so it wouldn’t just be ‘rafe and his friends . . . and you’. you’re grateful that aria was at least considering it.

“so how about you?” you ask her. “what are your plans for today, miss booked and busy girl?”

aria perks up. “oh you’ll absolutely love to hear what i’m doing,” she says immediately, earning a laugh from you.

as aria begins to recount what’s on her planner, as well as the green beans on her plate, you nod along, your attention drifting as your gaze wanders around the dining hall.

you can’t help but feel a pull towards a certain table in the corner, where rafe and his friends usually sit. you watch as rafe breaks out into a smile, with lorenzo seeming to be telling another big story to rafe and elara who’s in a fit of laughter.

you feel excited. like actually excited. and it’s weird. usually finding out that you had to be in rafes presence back home would end in you telling your friends about how you wanna just go back to bed. you can smile at the memories but you’re actually looking forward to befriending rafe and the others now.

however your thoughts are interrupted as soon as rafe stares back at her from across the room. lorenzo and elara are too busy conversing with one another to notice he ever shifted gaze.

it’s like your breath is caught in your throat as your eyes meet, and it basically feels like you’ve been caught. it’s like he’s smiling with his eyes though and he nods at you to say ‘hey’. you quickly look away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“are you even listening to me?” arias voice breaks through your reverie, and you snap back to reality. you quickly plaster on a smile and nod, hoping to mask your distraction.

“yeah sorry, i got a little lost there for a moment,” you half-lie, forcing yourself to focus on arias words. “okay so you were saying about your day?”

you spend a good amount of time deciding on what to wear that you nearly miss the text from rafe that says you’re leaving in ten minutes. you get comfortable in lorenzo’s car as he and elara accompany each other in the front, you and rafe having to sit in the back.

“it’s so nice to officially have a girl to hangout with,” elara says as she turns around in her seat and grabs the side of her chair, staring directly at you.

elara is gorgeous, you’ve always thought this since you saw her the first day of class. her milk chocolate hair is flowing in waves with her money pieces braided all the way down. her eyes are green; and you’re jealous. she’s sporting a pair of golden earrings that dangle and compliment her skin tone beautifully. this girl knows her color theory.

no wonder why lorenzo likes her so much; at least that’s what rafe’s hinted at before.

“this kind of stuff isn’t really his scene, so thank you y/n for coming with us so he can too,” lorenzo says, and in your peripherals you can see rafe smile and look out his window.

lorenzos hair is a little curly. it’s dark and his features are too. you can’t see much from your view behind elaras seat but it’s not like you have to when you’ve already seen him. you can see he cleans up well though. he’s a little opposite to elara’s outfit, whose colors are light and her clothes are airy with her dress and knitted cardigan. lorenzo’s in some hoodie layered with a racing jacket.

when you look to your left, rafe is in a collared denim jacket and some jeans. as soon as you saw him you’d joked about how he looked like a cowboy.

“who’s even playing tonight?” rafe asks the two in the front as he rests his elbow on his door while rubbing his chin. “was there a setlist?”

“for a coffee shop?” lorenzo asks, and he seems unsure about it himself. he shrugs, “we’ll see when we get there.”

you take a few pictures of the view of the town and the shop itself for your mom, but you plan on sending them to your family groupchat later, probably when you’re on the way back to campus.

you follow the others inside. elara finds you guys a table immediately because she predicts the shop will be packed soon. the coffee shop is new, and usually these things on top of supporting small artists are popular.

there’s already people seated at different tables near the stage where there’s two performers—a singer and their guitarist. they’re playing some kind of country music, you think. you really can’t recognize the genre.

you seat yourself with elara at the table and rafe joins lorenzo at the front counter to take a look at the menu. you’re just about to continue discussing classes with the girl when lorenzo speaks up.

he turns around from his spot, calling out to elara, “there’s a honey lavender latte.”

she gasps and excuses herself from the table, and she darts over to the front in such a hurry that she has to pull her cardigan back over her shoulders, marveling over the neat menu.

rafe pats lorenzo’s back and leaves to join you at the table, settling down in the seat with a sigh. you’re facing the performing stage at first but you turn to face him across the table.

“thanks for coming,” he says, his voice low and quiet that you almost don’t hear him over the music. you perk up and tilt your head in question, so he continues, “if you couldn’t tell, this is way more enzo and lara’s kind of spot more than it is mine. i wanted to go anyway but i thought it’d be better if you were here too.”

you shake your head. “i should be thanking you for the invite,” you insist. “it’s nice to get off campus and hangout with some friends instead of staying inside my dorm doing homework . . . or tutoring someone again.”

he rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat in denial. “alright alright,” he says, earning a laugh from you. “you didn’t even tutor me yesterday.”

“right, but i still stayed to help motivate you to apply yourself more often,” you remind him.

elara approaches the table with a smile, her hands clasped together as she stands behind her chair. “hi, so lorenzo’s ordering for us. do you guys know what you want yet or . . . ?”

you and rafe tell her your orders, which are your drinks plus rafe’s sandwich ‘cause he says he skipped lunch earlier. he pulls out his wallet and hands elara enough cash to cover both yours and his, like he said he would, and she hurries back to her friend.

you’re back to your conversation with rafe, and you lean forward to speak directly to him, “thanks for that by the way.”

he shakes his head and doesn’t say anything, like he doesn’t want to make it a thing. he stuffs his wallet into his back pocket.

“thanks for helping me.” you can tell that he’s referring to staying with him to do your english assignments. this time you wave it off like it’s nothing.

he thinks back to what you said specifically just a moment ago—about staying to motivate you. he doesn’t even argue with you, despite wanting to. to tell you that the truth. to tell you why he’s been failing despite being able to take clear notes and participate just fine in class discussions to prove he’s been doing his reading too.

you turn away to face the performers again, and rafe just stares at you. you look so content, just enjoying the music, the café.

you admire the new coffee shop and its entirety. the customers are clearly enjoying it too, especially the coffee. they’re rounding up orders quick. everyone must be good at what they do here.

most have coffee already, in the middle of being gulped down, having photos taken of them for their feeds and groupchats, but some have empty spaces in front of them. either their order is on the way or they’ve managed to finish their drink and still stay because the atmosphere is that attractive.

the menu uphead is clear and concise, handwritten for sure, and there’s a display of treats that have cute little doodles on the sign that reads that some are organic, locally sourced, and delicious. it’s a ‘buy one, get one!’ deal that has you spotting a few cookies on small paper bags or slices of some cake on people’s plates.

the aroma inside the café makes you melt. you can smell it from outside too. it’s the smell of coffee beans and baked goods mostly, which is literally what they sell anyway, but it’s all so fresh.

you can sit here for hours.

and soon, it’s been hours and you’re still there with the group. it’s late but you’re grateful there’s no curfew at your university or else you would’ve left by then.

people are standing from their seats to surround the stage. some are dancing with their partners, you can see, but others are just swaying to the sound, much like you are.

your fingers are intertwined together as you rest your chin on top of your knuckles, and you watch what looks like the singer serenading her guitarist, who looks back at her with the same glint in her eye. it’s the cutest thing.

“you and i need to hangout more often,” elara’s voice is loud from beside you, and you look over to where she and lorenzo are dancing, elara’s back pressed against his chest. lorenzo is too busy filming the performers to pay attention. “i’ve been meaning to go shopping sometime. you can come with!”

you hesitate, especially if she means like tomorrow. you aren’t totally prepared for one-on-one with her but at the same time, maybe it would be nice to just be impulsive about it.

“we can work it over text,” she tells you like she’s read your mind, and you’re relieved. she shared her number with you a bit after you and her started chatting it up in the car. she’s probably the kindest soul you’ve met since you started school here.

as elara goes back to swaying with lorenzo who’s finally put his phone down, you look to rafe. he’s on the other side of you with his hands in his pockets, but he’s not swaying. he’s just standing still.

you give him a look that tells him to move more and he does, but only with a sigh. you show him by moving your hands too, but you’re so close to the stage that the singer takes your hand into hers.

it alarms you and you stare forward in awe, laughing when you realize how caught off guard you were when she was just connecting with the audience. lorenzo pulls out his phone again to record you, and you giggle with elara.

the singer lets go of your hand and you look at rafe who’s just smiling. you can’t tell what kind of smile it is—if it’s because of your reaction or because of something else. it’s kind of hard to read him nowadays.

he leans in, speaking to you privately. “i told you you’d like lara,” his voice booms in your ear, and you nod.

“she’s great, thank you for introducing me,” you reply, and he nods back. “thank you for tonight.”

as elara repeatedly pokes your shoulder to get your attention, you face the two to appear in lorenzo’s recorded video of the girls together. he even pans over to rafe whose attention isn’t even on them, but on you.

he didn’t realize what he’d been missing all this time. you’re fun to be around, it’s one of the only things he thinks when you’re on his mind. the other, however, just lingers over and almost makes him feel guilty. it benefits you both even though he sacrificed his grade for it. all he wanted to do was grab your attention after that first time you tutored him.

maybe failing english on purpose was just the thing to get you back.

@svnsetcrve @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @lalalalala33 @darkcolorexpert @babyflockaaaa @lifeofleasaasa @ilyrafe @mkiverd @wxn-drlst @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @thepopcultureaddict

[merlucide]

BLLK BOYS W/ A THEATER NERD S/O

notes: HELP I H8 THE DRABBLES..🥲 (og ask)

characters: Reo, Isagi, Rin, Bachira

warnings: cursing?, implied fem, cringe

bllk mlist

MIKAGE REO

oh, he just LOVES watching your performances. 

Wether your on stage or not- he comes to EVERY show (drags nagi w/him too LMAO)

Helps you memorize any of your lines / helps you gather stuff you’ll need backstage.

He loves seeing you thrive in theater, and how happy it makes you ><

He always listens intently when you talk about your favorite broadway show, amazed how you remember even the smallest details

Sings your favorite musical songs with you, he will even act out the scene with you

Brings you a BIG bouquet of assorted flowers when the performance is over— rambling about how just wonderful it was

He is really proud of the effort you put into you craft, and the outcome always amazes him

Everyone had gathered on stage for the final bow, the crowd clapped and cheered. You smiled when you spotted your boyfriend holding up a limp Nagi. Reo clapped with a bright smile on his lips— and Nagi squinting at the bright lights. Everyone headed backstage and the crowd cleared, most left but close friends and family stayed and came backstage.

“Y/N that was wonderful!” You hear the familiar voice of your boyfriend praise, him running to you and hugging you tightly. He pecked your cheeks and held onto your arms. “My love that might just have been your best performance yet,” You snorted at his comment “Reo, you say that after every performance.”

“Well every performance is perfect my love,” Reo quips, his face into a smooth grin. Behind him trailed Nagi, who slurred a ‘good job’ with a thumbs up. Reo pulls back a bit and hands you a beautiful bouquet you can’t help but smile at. It was so pretty, full of tulips and lillies and smaller flowers complimenting the main ones.

“Thank you Reo,” you smiled before kissing his cheek. “Of course my love, just doing my job,”  <3

ISAGI YOICHI

oh he is so cute

You 100% get him into the world of theater

Thinks that it’s really cool how you’re passionate about this

Super supportive— tells all his friends about your plays and all of the stuff you like

His favorite broadway shows are Dear Evan Hanson and Hamilton— he thinks King George is hilarious

He likes being involved with your plays anyway he can—he will be try to be involved if he is free

Tells his family all about your performance!!

The whole family goes to your shows (≧∀≦)

Tries to memorize your lines / the plays lines with you but forgets them 💀

(or) Tries helping you with props/technical stuff but doesn’t know what to do so he just stands there 😭

“Yoichi- can you pass me the yellow please?” You asked from sitting on the floor, paint brush in hand. On the floor was props you were tasked with making. 

“Here,” Yoichi hands the paint bucket to you as he watches you pour some on your pallet. You guys were supposed to go out tonight but you still had some props you needed to finish— so Yoichi offered to keep you company. “Uhm, are you sure you don’t need any help..?” He nervously asks. 

“Oh no I’m okay, thanks though,” you happily replied, you already felt bad for canceling date night and didn’t want to ‘burden’ him with helping you. “Oh okay,” he sits back down on the floor and continues to watch you. 

“…Did you wanna help?” You slowly asked. 

“I dunno,”

“Yoichi”

“Yeah..”

You softly sighed and handed him a brush. “Here, you can paint the moon,” You stood up and grabbed the unfinished moon set-prop. Yoichi nodded eagerly as he started painting. His strokes were in all directions— you’d have to go over them later but you didn’t mind too much. He looked so cute with his brow slightly furrowed when he concentrated on painting the edges.

“How’s this?” Yoichi asks, pointing to his moon with a little grin. “It’s perfection,” you praise, which he responds with a soft ‘thanks’ as he admires his work. <3

ITOSHI RIN

lmao he does NOT get it 😭💀

like you showed him a clip of your fav musical and he was like ??? Ppl ACTUALLY like that..?? (Ignore him he’s stupid)

but SUPER supportive of your performances!! he just lacks artistic appreciation, aaaand he has as much creativity as a wet sock, so yk

When he comes to your performances, he always brings a small but pretty bouquet (he’s beet red when he hands them to you >< )

You have desperately tried to get him into the arts— which just continued to confuse him🫠

He likes Shakespeare though??? which is probably like the only plays he will willing watch (aside for yours ehe:3)

You call him your Romeo ;) (he gets embarrassed and gets mad at you LMAO)

Lmao he should’ve never voiced his ‘like’ for Shakespeare bc when ever he asks you a simple question you’ll end up going “To be or not to be, that is the question” (que rin groaning)

“Rin, you need to put more emotion into it!!” You exasperatedly said, flinging your paper up. You had asked Rin to go over your lines with you, which was a stupid idea to begin with. He ticked his jaw, fingers firmly pressing into the paper.

“tch. This is stupid,” Rin answered, glaring at you. You sighed, “I can’t feel the scene if you sound like a robot!”Rin huffed, his pride clearly wounded. He groaned and flicked the paper back and examined it again.

“What. do. you. mean he’s. been. lying?” Rin reads, his voice flat. 

You internally sigh, “I’m not sure, but when I asked him he was acting strange..” you spoke, already memorized your lines. “Could. it have. something. to do .with his. sister?” “No- he wouldn’t tell her about something like that… Unless!!” You clapped your hands.

“YAAAY!! I FINALLY NAILED MY TIMING!!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands excitedly. You then tackled Rin, who was sitting on your bed, catching his lips in a fat smooch. “Thanks honey, I really appreciate you tryin,” you praise, hands resting on his shoulders. 

“Tch.. It’s nothing..” Rin muttered, his hand coming to rest on your waist. “I’m never doing this again,” you snickered at his mood change  (he’s gonna end up helping next time you ask <3)

help Ik that was so bad 💀

BACHIRA MEGURU

AJHSNJANANNRNE 

HE MATCHES UR FREAK!!!!

LIKE HE GETS IT FR!!!

omg you wanna binge watch Chicago, Six, and Heathers? WELL SO DOES BACHIRA!

yall sing musicals together all the time like- yall are in character doing the choreography and all

He loves watching musicals sm

And he LOVES watching you perform/work in theater

Like- seriously goes to all of your shows, even rehearsals if he can

Gets super immersed in your performances- thinks it’s 10x better than any broadway show

Loves seeing your/the costumes- will definitely try to try them on (before he gets caught and gets in trouble lmao)

After every performance he takes you to go get ice cream- a little ritual you guys have :3

OH. And he tries to match his outfit to what your play is >< (keyword, tries)

He brings his mom to your plays and she whistles and claps so loud when the plays over 😭💗

“Y/N you were friggin’ awesome!!!” Bachira exclaimed, hands swinging yours back and forth. “I wasn’t even on stage for 5 minutes,” you snorted. “Well you were the best one there! Being a tree takes a lot of skill y’know!!” He grins, pulling you along faster. 

You finally arrived at the sacred land, Benny’s Ice Cream Parlor. Bachira ordered for both of you, handing you one cone of (Fav Flavor). You sat down on the bench, already licking your cone. Bachira put his foot on the bench, “Ahem, Ahem,” He began, lifting his ice cream up. “I would like to make a toast!,” You smile at his antics, waiting for what he’ll say next. “A toast to the best play in the history of the plays!” You snickered, raising your cone “A toast!” You said, ‘clinking’ your ice creams together. 

“Ah, being Tree #4 is no easy task…” You dramatically sighed, licking your ice cream. Bachira shook his head. “Tut tut..,” you both snickered, finishing your ice creams and heading back home. <3

bllk mlist

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark @soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @rinitoshisgirl @someprettyname @nikomelo

kanakakannakkkse ive rewritten the Drabble so many times bro 😭😭 ARGH AJSNSNANANA

made August 22nd 2024

[koolades-world]

Helloooo it's me again back with another obey me request :)

Could I get the Demon bros with a depressed MC? I'm having a rough time rn and I just need some comfort but ofc feel free to ignore if u don't do requests like these!!

Have a nice day/night!! ♡☆♡☆♡

hi! of course! sorry I'm so late on this!!! also love your pfp (huge pjsekai fan)

Part of the reason I took so long is because I just didn’t know where to start

I love the demon bro I wanna squeeze them like a squishmellow and they’ve gotten me thorough some tough stuff

it's hard for me to articulate anything relating to depression just because I struggle to open up about it especially after my diagnosis. I don’t think anyone except my mom knows only because she was in the room at the time, and all you guys now of course haha

sorry if that was worded so weird and if anything below is worded weird but it’s just hard for me to find words to put together how I’m feeling but writing is my therapy so thank you for this request :)

Brothers with a depressed Mc

Lucifer

would def notice something was up right away from the first meeting, not because of how you acted, but just because it's Luci

once he officially found out, he made all arrangements needed right away

you need a few days off school? you got it, he's already talking to diavolo

you need a break from chores? you got it, he distributed the work among the rest of the family

there's only one thing you feel like eating? you got it, it's what everyone is eating for dinner

supportive in a quiet way, and does all sorts of little things to lighten the load

Mammon

as your first and best man, he acts as your knight and is willing to do anything to help you out

he tries his best to correct his own bad habits so you can work together on yourself

like, for example, if you struggle to get out of bed in the morning, he will get up and moving earlier so you can be up at the same time

nobody is perfect! he tells you this all the time because he knows how dark everything might seem sometimes

he partially understands how you feel since being the family punching bag for hundreds of years takes a toll on someone

he’s with you in every step of your journey, ups and downs, no matter what

Levi

he often has his own self deprecating thoughts, so he knows what you’re dealing with

everyone copes in their own ways but he hopes by sharing all the things he loves, he can bring some happiness

he shared everything with you, both his physical possessions and his thoughts

if you prefer to just sit together, he can do that, but if you want to talk about it, he will do his best to also share how he’s feeling

he wants you to be able to use him as a support system and as someone to fall back on

he always tries to bring a smile to your face and to be someone you trust, despite his own flaws

Satan

he shows you the little joys in life, the ones you might struggle or forget to see like sunsets and how the clouds change color with the sky, or how soft flower petals can be, or how a smile can change someone’s entire day

often he invites you out to places, for no reason at all so you can enjoy everything, especially the sun

he takes you on trips to the human world to visit your favorite places and occasionally see your favorite people if he’s allowed

he helps you with school work and takes the load when ever he can

if you asked him, he would do anything for you <3

Asmo

he always helps you out with your personal hygiene since often, that's what goes first

it's much easier to keep a routine if someone is doing it with you, and Asmo would never forget, so he help keep you on track

but, he's also not pushy about it. if you'll let him, he'll do some of the tasks for you, no strings attached

he's with you at your worst and best. he's not going anywhere

he's determined to be your personal cheerleader and will celebrate all the small things with you

Beel

at first, he's a little shocked at the changes in eating patterns, but supports you when ever and where ever you need it

if he knows there's only one food you will eat, he will physically restrain himself from eating it because he knows how much it means to you

exercise helps but he knows it's probably the last thing you want to do, so he helps you though little bits at a time and takes you out to get a reward afterwards

spending time with you makes him happy, so he figures it must be the same the other way around so he makes an effort to just be with you, even if its just sitting together while you do different things

often finds himself seeking you out just to ask how you are by instinct, proving what a sweetheart he is

Belphie

an interrupted or strange sleep cycle is something he would for sure notice

he becomes the biggest cuddle bug and will often give you sleepy kisses

when you're resting, he'll give you sweet dreams that will leave you feeling warm and fuzzy afterwards

he makes an effort to make the bed just how you like it, and before long makes it a habit to join you in your room for naps and bedtime

he doesn't mind if you wake up at weird time and will wait with you as long as you need to get up

thank you again for such the long wait! hope you enjoyed and hope you're feeling better now <333

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for tricking my grandma into misgendering her cat?

Background: my (19F) grandma (67F) is a southern baptist and pretty conservative. My cousin (Matt, 24M) is trans, he came out to his parents and mine about two years ago because he knew we would be supportive, but he waited until he was on T a couple months and was mostly transitioned socially before he officially came out to our less supportive relatives, like my grandma.

Since Matt came out to everyone else (which he did by showing up at family Christmas with a “hello my name is” sticker on, which I thought was hilarious) my grandma has refused to use his correct pronouns, name, or anything, saying “it’s hard to switch” as an excuse. Matt has cut off contact and everyone else in the family just kind of avoids talking about him around her.

I am in a weird situation because my family lives the next street over from where she does, and we have always been pretty close. Since she started being so shitty about Matt, though, I’ve put more distance and just stay polite when she’s over.

Okay so now to the AITA part. About two months ago my grandma wanted to adopt a cat, and my best friend volunteers at an animal shelter so we were helping her. We showed her pictures of some of the cats and she saw an older male who was all black with longer fur and said she wanted to adopt “her.” I started to correct her saying it was a male cat, and then realized the opportunity I had so I kept my mouth shut. I made a point to handle all the adoption stuff for my grandma so she never saw anything indicating the cat’s male-ness, and then brought home her new “female” cat, pink collar and all.

Last week “Miss Kitty” (such a creative name) got a paw injury and at the vet they told my grandma the cat was male. My grandma told me and my parents about it when she was over for the Fourth of July (we had family and friends over for barbecue, including Matt’s parents). I made a point from there on to continue using “she” for the cat and still calling “Miss Kitty” instead of “Mister Kitty.” It took her a minute to notice but finally she called me out and said “he’s a boy, stop saying she.”

I immediately snapped back with “oh so it’s easy for you to switch the name and pronouns of your cat but not your own grandson?” Everyone got quiet and she got all flustered, trying to say it’s different, but I just said “oh okay, so you put more effort into using the right words for a cat who doesn’t even know English, got it.”

My mom told me to stop and leave it alone. I said “I’m just saying, it’s pretty clear who she cares about more.” And then my mom told me to leave the table if I was going to act like that. I just got up and took my plate in the kitchen and finished eating.

After everyone left my mom lit into me and told me that what I said was cruel. I said I was just teaching her a lesson and that maybe now she would think about it different. My mom said that I just made things worse and humiliated her on purpose in front of everyone. My dad had been quiet but then just started laughing. He realized that I had been playing the long game, and it wasn’t a mix up at the shelter- I led my grandma to believe the cat was female. He basically said “that was wrong but also hilarious” and now my mom is mad at both me and my dad. When Matt’s parents told him he thought it was super funny and said he isn’t mad at all.

My mom wants me to apologize, but I am not sorry about what I said. I don’t know if I should feel bad about tricking my grandma, because I didn’t technically outright lie, I just didn’t correct her when she assumed the cat was female. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[webshooterrr9]

Dating Ushijima Wakatoshi as the Club Manager

Headcanons + fic for male!reader

Commission for @crashgrav1ty

w.c: 2k

content warning: none!, fluff, cheesy highschool romance with ushiwaka

Headcanons:

I feel like Ushijima would be a soft dom when dating you, not like in a sexual way, but in a romantic way. He’s just so kind and smart and he would be so gently protective of you. He would pull you closer by the waist if you were walking through a crowded area, not to turn you on, just to make sure he doesn’t lose you. He would 100% be the one to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, he follows the sidewalk rule by heart.

He would also be an incredible listener. Ushijima is a very quiet guy and I don’t think that would change when he’s with you, but if you’re a big talker that’s a good thing. He’d sit there and listen to you yap with a small smile on his face, just admiring the gleam in your eyes when you talk about your little anime crushes and current video games you enjoy. He’s lowkey very oblivious to any fandom culture, but he’d let you chat about the drama all you want.

As far as volleyball goes, he always wants to impress you. Which isn’t hard, given that he’s one of the top three hitters in the nation, but whatever. He’s always giving it his all during practice and at games because he knows you’re watching. I think he took very good care of his health before you started dating, but after you started dating and became the club manager, he was taking any opportunity he could to hydrate and stretch - because he knew that meant that he could be next to you, even if you don’t talk. He loves just holding you after games, silently hugging you close to him and resting his head on top of yours. Ushijima would stay like that forever if he could.

As far as PDA goes, I don’t think he’d be super into it, but not necessarily against it. I think it would mostly be just small displays of affection like hand holding. As a guy who doesn’t say many words, I strongly believe that his love language is physical touch and gifts. Ushijima would leave cute little notes on your desk, sometimes with nothing more than a smiley face and a heart, and he’d share his lunch with you everyday. You’d never be lonely at school, and he’d always help you with homework that you struggle with.

Fic:

Today is the big day! Well, not really. It’s just another practice game against some other school in Miyagi - but still! Even if it’s not a part of an official tournament, you were always excited to see your boyfriend do what he loved most.

Ushijima holds your hand in his as you two walk through the hallways. Your last class, Art History, just ended and now you’re both heading to the locker room to get ready for the game. He doesn’t say much, but you can see in the quick glances he keeps giving you that Ushi is very happy that you’re here with him. You don’t always make it to practice games due to family stuff, so he’s excited to know that you’ll be there to support him - even if he doesn’t do a good job at showing it.

“Hey, Waki?” you say, turning your head up towards his. His ears perk up at the nickname and he turns to look back at you while the two of you walk. “Do you think we’re gonna do good today?”

He pauses for a moment to think. “I assume so. Nobody on the team is injured.” he turns his gaze back to the direction in which you’re walking, but he’s still listening to you. “Why do you ask? Do you think we’re gonna do bad?”

“No, no! That’s not what I’m saying.” you quickly defend, waving your non-held-hand around. “You just seem a little down, that’s all.”

“Down?”

“Yeah. Down as in sad, not as in syndrome.”

“Oh,” he replies in that same monotone voice as usual. “I didn’t realize I appeared that way, my apologies.”

You two enter the locker room, and he lets go of your hand for a brief second to open the door, immediately returning it to its rightful place after you two have entered. “No need to apologize, I just want to make sure you’re okay is all.”

“I’m alright. Don’t worry.”

You both head over to your lockers, which are conveniently next to each other. Your eyes wander to the floor as he changes from his school uniform into his practice clothes. Even though you’ve been dating for a few months now, you’re still shy about changing. Ushijima sees you avoiding his gaze and lets out a small laugh, speeding up the process of putting his new clothes on so that you don’t have to be awkward for any longer.

Once he’s done changing, he puts a hand on your shoulder to signal that it’s okay to look. “Hey.” he says, trying to get your attention. You look up at Ushiwaka, and your cheeks flush when you see him. Maybe it’s the way he’s towering over you, or maybe it’s the quiet confidence he exudes, but something about him is just so appealing to you. Handsome. That’s the only way to describe him. His short hair is neatly styled with hazel eyes softly looking into yours. There’s a gentle smirk on his face, one that would be missed by anyone but you.

“Yeah?” you ask, trying to be nonchalant. I mean yeah, you’re dating, but you still don’t want him to know that you’re crushing on him hard. Is it even possible to crush on your boyfriend? Or is that just love? Love. Woah. Big word. Not yet.

“I was wondering if maybe, after the game, you wanted to go get some taiyaki with me.” he took his hand off of your shoulder, but still maintained the eye contact that made your knees weak with joy.

A smile creeped up on your face. You jump up in excitement. “Duh, of course! I love that stuff!”

He chuckles at your excitement. You were always known to get a bit aggressive when passionate, and he found that cute. The way your face lit up when he mentioned food is a sight Ushijima will never get tired of. Ever.

“Great,” he smiled, putting his hand back in yours. “Let’s get out there then. To the game, I mean.”

You watch intently as your boyfriend and his teammates score point after point in the practice game. There were a few moments where they slipped up, but all in all, the match was a success for the team. You’d always be amazed by just how not tired he seems, even after running and jumping everywhere. You wonder if this guy even has the ability to sweat, or if he’s some sort of superhuman, volleyball machine.

The game was winding down, with the current score being 24-20 to Shiratorizawa. You were happy to cheer your boyfriend on, making sure that his water bottle was always full. After the visiting team got back on their bus to go home, you walked over to Ushiwaka.

“You did it, Waki!!” you beam, bouncing over to him with a spring in your step now that you two can hang out one-on-one. He smiles at you as he grabs his bag and water bottle.

“Ready to go?” he asks, and you nod your head excitedly. The two of you walk out of the school, getting on your bikes and riding down to your nearest Taimu to get those yummy desserts you were promised. By the time you two arrive there, the sun is already starting to set. Ushijima pays for your taiyaki and you both take a seat on a bench out front. You dig into the fish-shaped confectionery eagerly, not wasting a single crumb. Ushiwaka eats with you, although much slower.

You two talk about anything and everything, with most of the words being spoken by you. He watches the way your dark eyes seem to shine in the light of the setting sun, and the way the high points of your skin gleam. The way your smile stretches across your face, and the loud laugh you give when telling him a funny story. All the while, he has his hand on yours, lightly rubbing over your knuckles with his palm.

The pink and orange sky starts to fade into purple, with the cotton candy clouds clearing the way for the moon. You notice the streetlights turn on, and decide to wrap up your outing before your parents get mad at how late you’re staying out. “We should probably head home. I don’t want my parents getting mad at me.”

“Yeah. We wouldn’t want that.”

Ushijima goes to stand up, but you grab his wrist to stop him. “Wait.”

He turns back to look at you, with a quizzical expression on his face. You stand up with him, letting go of his hand for a moment. “Was this a date?” you ask, somewhat timidly.

Your boyfriend takes a moment to think before smiling, and even laughing a bit under his breath. “Of course it was.” he smiles, leaning down to plant a small kiss on your forehead. You blush furiously at the gesture, but try to play it off. “Right. Cool. Thought so.”

He smirks again at your reaction, but says nothing more. The two of you bicycle back to your house, and he walks you all the way up to your front door. When you step inside, your pets are all there to greet you. You wave goodbye to your lover, blowing him a little kiss goodnight - something you cringed at yourself for later. Ushijima waves back, waiting until you’re fully inside before he heads home.

As Ushiwaka returns to his small farmhouse, all he can think about is you. When he sets down his bag, all he thinks about is you. When he returns the animals to their pens, all he thinks about is you. Even as he’s drifting off to sleep, you’re the only thing on his mind.

He just can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. Someone who understands him, someone who supports him unconditionally. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s thinking, and for that he thanks you. Listening to the crickets outside his bedroom window, all he wonders is if you’re asleep already. Probably not. And honestly, he’s more than happy to be there for you in the morning when you complain about how tired you are. He’s already prepared to pack a lunch for you.

And as Ushijima finally slips into unconsciousness, all he can think about is how much he loves you. It’s cheesy, he knows, but he’s so grateful to be able to experience teenage love with you. And one day, he’ll show you just how much you mean to him.

this was a commission for a friend!

my commissions are not currently open, i only accepted this one because i've known this person for years

in the future, i plan to open commissions for those who want a personalized fic!

the original fic was more detailed to the commissioner's life, but i edited out the private details for security.

hope you enjoyed!

much love to all my supporters mwah

[soulscollection]

'𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲' 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.

prompts designed around the concept of a character having a difficult day and another character arriving to help/support/care for them! i made these prompts on @soulprompts. DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST NOR REPOST IT OR CLAIM AS YOUR OWN.

DIALOGUE PROMPTS.

" you look like you could use a hug. "

" please tell me you didn't cancel your plans for me... "

" don't be silly, you're much more important than some tinder date! "

" where's your jacket? i'd like to show you something, and it'll involve a bit of walking. "

" you know i'm always here for you, don't you? no matter what. "

" hey, now... i'm only ever a phone call away. "

" come on. let's get you to bed. "

" i'm listening. "

" hey, do you have any spare pajamas? i'm going to sleep on your couch tonight; that way you just need to shout if you need me. "

" what are your nightmares about? they may not be so bad if you talk about them. "

" another nightmare? "

" hey now, no more apologizing. i'm glad you called me; i meant it when i said any time, any place. "

" you know you're never a nuisance nor a burden. not to me. "

" i'm helping you, and that's final. i'm not taking no for an answer. now. where's your kitchen? i'm making us some comfort food. "

" maybe you think it's your job to look after everyone else. but it's not supposed to be like that. it works both ways. and now it's my turn to look after you. okay? "

" hey, now. you've been helping me ever since we met. it's about time i started repaying the favor. "

“ i’m so proud of you. i know it’s hard to get past these rough days, but... i still want you to know that i’m proud of you. “

“ you know, i reckon our bond is definitely strong enough to endure whatever it is that you need to get off your chest. “

“ it’s alright, now... i got you. “

“ you don’t need to worry about scaring me off. i’m not going anywhere. you can try as hard as you want, but there’s nothing you can say that’s going to make me like you any less. “

“ you know, i make the best hot chocolate in the world. seriously, i’ve asked absolutely everyone on the planet. everyone except you... what do you say? wanna make it a global fact? “

“ let’s go smash some stuff until you’re ready to talk, okay? “

ACTION PROMPTS.

[ TEA ]: sender prepares a mug of hot tea for the receiver.

[ BLANKET ]: having found the receiver either sleeping or just lying on the couch, sender gently takes a blanket and drapes it over them.

[ BATH ]: sender runs a hot bath for the receiver after a particularly challenging day.

[ DINNER ]: having learned that the receiver has had a difficult time lately, sender arrives at their door with their favorite dinner and drinks.

[ COOK ]: in an effort to boost the receiver's spirits, sender arrives with all the ingredients needed to make the receiver's favorite comfort food, with the well-intended intentions of cooking it for them.

[ FORT ]: sender builds a blanket fort for the receiver following a long and difficult day.

[ HUM ]: sender hums gently under their breath to soothe and comfort a distressed receiver.

[ WIPE ]: after the receiver has stopped crying, sender tenderly leans forward, cups their face in their hands, and wipes their tears away.

[ JOURNEY ]: noticing the receiver has had a particularly rough day, sender invites them to accompany them on a walk or drive to get out of the house.

[ HAIR ]: as the receiver leans against them/lies in bed, sender begins to run their hand through their hair to soothe them until they relax or fall asleep.

[ CARRY ]: sender lifts a (nearly) sleeping receiver and carries them into their bed, tucking them in in the process.

[ GUIDE ]: sender physically guides an exhausted receiver into their bedroom, following weeks of very little sleep and very high amounts of stress.

[ BESIDE ]: receiver wakens from their first genuinely restful sleep in weeks, to find the sender asleep next to them, having been holding the receiver throughout the night to help them fall asleep.

[ BEDSIDE ]: receiver wakens from their first genuinely restful sleep in weeks, to find the sender asleep in an armchair by their bedside, having stayed there for the night in case receiver had a nightmare or needed them in any other way.

[ KISS ]: as a gesture of comfort and affection, sender leans forward to kiss the receiver on the forehead.

[ HAND ]: noticing the receiver is close to tears, or otherwise struggling with an unseen but considerable burden, sender gently takes their hand and holds it in an attempt to comfort and encourage them.

[ RUB ]: sender gently rubs receiver's back in a soothing motion.

[ TV ]: sitting next to the receiver on the sofa, sender joins them in watching their favorite show/movie on the television.

[ HOLD ]: as soon as the receiver opens the door and realizes the sender is there, sender wordlessly opens their arms out, and gives the receiver a warm, sorely needed hug.