#I’m fairly happy with it so far!!
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Hehe I’m so excited to work on my spread page :,)
#abt that wip from earlier#unfortunately I am busy tho#I’m fairly happy with it so far!!#I recently listened to the trial script reading and aaaaaa it was super cool
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Syrax is the mother of Danny’s dragons!
Uhh… not what cannon has told us so far, but apparently it’s Condal’s world and GRRM is just living in it.
Mind pointing out which egg is which?
I see a red with black and gold shading, gold and white, black with green highlights and lavender.
Danny’s eggs are black with scarlet ripples and whorls, deep green and bronze, and pale cream streaked with gold.
You can argue that the red and gold ones are Drogon and Viserion, but there is no bright green egg like Dani has in GOT. Drogon’s egg is also mostly black with red highlights. So is the black and green meant to be Rhaegal? Did fossilization somehow change the egg colors this drastically? Wouldn’t they turn back into the colors they were before they turned to stone? What happens to the lavender one? That one just gets stolen or broken somehow since Rhaena claims Sheepstealer at some point this season rather than hatching her own? While we are on that, why get rid of a whole ass dragon in a show about dragons?
Like, they knew exactly what Dani’s eggs looked like. If they wanted to somehow retcon that Dani’s eggs came from Syrax, the least they could have done is make them the same colors and design instead of doing their usual “close enough!” Dragon color scheming.
Also, are we even going to see the green dragons aside from when they are in battle? We have the black dragons in spades, but this season we have seen Vhagar from like two miles away. Where is Sunfyre? Why can’t we watch Dreamfyre react when Helaena’s son is murdered in front of her? Why don’t we even get to see Dreamfyre light her son’s pyre? Rhaenyra got a whole episode to grieve, and Helaena got paraded around during a funeral procession where her son’s wagon gets stuck and almost dumps his body onto the street.
We get it, Condal. Green = Bad. We are told Aegon assaulted a servant before we are introduced to him, literally ass first. We understand that you don’t want us to like him. You’re about as subtle as a cannon. Thing is… I’m really stubborn. The more you try to tell me how horrible they are and how pure and gIrLBoSs Rhaenyra is… the more I root for the Greens.
Go ahead, make them as bad as you want. At this point, it’s so far removed from cannon that we can laugh at it. It’s straight up just Rhaenyra fanfiction. I will gladly sit here and twirl my cartoon villain mustache and cheer while they do the most fucked up shit and attempt to blame it on Rhaenyra.
Here’s hoping Condal stops sucking his own dick and sticks to the book cannon for season 3 instead of making this travesty.
Like, I don’t know GRRM well enough to have an opinion on him, but as a fellow writer… what Condal is doing is just disrespectful. He was supposed to adapt the story he was given. Not make his own.
#anti hotd#hotd fandom#fuck Ryan Condal#and his shitty writing#I’m no longer invested in the plot#I’m just fascinated to see how far from the source material he can get#they need to change it to ‘the Rhaenyra Show’ though#fuck even the black scenes suck#just Rhaenyra whining that no one will listen to her and continue doing nothing#still waiting for that all out war we were promised#the leaks have been fairly reliable so far#and I’m not happy with where this is going
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you had surgery? are you doing ok?
yeah!! i’m doing great recovering well etc. the anesthesia made me really sick yesterday but 2day i was feeling well enough 2 go 2 the grocery store w my mom…made pasta…played a bit of piano answered some emails etc…been up & about :•)
#as far as surgeries go it’s like. fairly easy recovery period 4 most people#nothing much 2 worry abt etc & the worst should be over…#mostly i’m just v excited & happy that it’s done <3#& i’m staying w family thru the weekend while i recover so ive got people looking after me etc��honestly feeling a bit spoiled xx
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i don’t think I’m like actually allowed to be happy or that I even know how to be anymore
#whimsy whispers#this isn’t me asking for permission to be happy by the way#it doesn’t matter if everyone in the world told me I was allowed to be happy I wouldn’t believe them and it wouldn’t make me like able to#suddenly be happy either#idk this post hasn’t got a point#everything just feels bad and hopeless and sad and idk what to do anymore when existing sucks so much and I know I’m never going to be happy#I just feel like I’m being suffocated or drowning or something#rn is actually a better day because I feel fairly empty which is far preferred for being in tears#like I just don’t know what to do at this point I feel so unhappy and unloved and alone and there’s nothing I can do#I can’t just fix anything I can’t just be happy I can’t make myself be loved I can’t do anything#all I can do is let each day pass by either feeling like it’s the end of the world and wishing that it really were or feeling empty#there’s no relief#it’s not that i want to be like this but I can’t help it#I want to be happy and loved and surrounded by people who love me but as I am I’m unfit for love and I honestly haven’t felt genuinely loved#I’m so long and at this point all I’m doing is making those around me feel worse so isn’t it best if I just stop being in peoples lives#so that’s what I’m up to now#I’ll be unhappy regardless but at least other people will hopefully be happier without me being so sad around them all the time#I make myself tired so I can only imagine how tired everyone else is of me
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the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader
Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!
“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.
Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.
“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.
“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”
They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”
Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”
“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”
It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts.
You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.
He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.
“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.
With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”
Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”
You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.
“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.
Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”
You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”
“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.
By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder.
“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”
You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate.
“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”
Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”
Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”
“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”
He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”
“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”
From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.
“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.
“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”
You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased.
“Ty?”
He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”
“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”
Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”
The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research.
You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”
“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”
Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”
Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”
“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”
He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”
You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder.
“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot.
“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.
You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.
You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others.
“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.
It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”
Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.”
You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing.
“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.”
“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.
“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”
You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on.
It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck.
He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.
“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.
You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.
“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries.
But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.
The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you.
“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.
Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.
When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.
You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”
You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.
“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”
You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.”
“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”
“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”
Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.
Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”
You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door.
“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”
You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore.
Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”
“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.”
You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange.
“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.
Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”
You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”
You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself.
It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.
“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”
You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”
Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”
You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.
“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”
“I wasn’t flirting–”
“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”
You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”
Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”
For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide.
“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.
You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.
He frowns. “Why is that?”
You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”
As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are.
“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.
You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”
Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before.
“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.
You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.
“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain.
“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes.
You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”
Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”
“You’d do that?”
He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”
“And what you said over the radio this morning?”
“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”
“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”
Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”
You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.
“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.
Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”
“Name it.”
“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”
You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”
“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”
#twisters#twisters x reader#twisters x you#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x you#twisters 2024#twisters fanfic#tyler owens fanfic
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Hear me out reader who only feels comfortable getting sloshed/drunk when Remus is there cause she loves that she can trust him enough to take care of her <3 or reader accidentally gets super drunk and remus takes care of her and finds the situation very amusing cause reader usually isn’t this free. love ur work!
Thank you for your request gorgeous!!
cw: alcohol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 573 words
You’re giggling, nearly hanging off Remus’ arm as you walk a ways behind your group of friends. “I’m really sorry,” you say again, eyes turning up to his with a sheepish smile tickling your lips. “I never usually get like this.”
“It’s really okay, lovely.” Remus smiles. He doesn’t mind that he has to keep reassuring you, only that you seem to think you have to keep apologizing. “It happens to everyone.”
You’re not even that sloshed, he doesn’t think. Enough to be walking funny and to be giving him far more sweet looks than you would be otherwise, but Remus thinks you’ll still remember all of this tomorrow. All in all, it’s not a bad deal for him. You’ve been clinging to his arm all night, hiding smiles in his shoulder and preening each time he drops a kiss on your head.
“No, but honestly,” you go on, “I don’t want you to think I do this every time I go out. I don’t usually need taking care of.”
“I don’t think that,” he says. “Not that I think it’s such a bad thing to need taking care of from time to time, either. Do you want your cheesy chips?”
You’ve forgotten he’s holding them for you, and your face lights up when you remember. Remus hands them over, watching as you open the takeaway container with your arm still looped through his and steam wafts up to your face. A drunken James had insisted he needed a burger to complete his night, so most of your friends had gotten some snack or another for the walk home from the bar.
You nearly moan as you take your first bite, and Remus has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “I think that’s part of it,” you say through a mouthful. “That you don’t think it’s such a bad thing.”
Remus hums. “How do you mean?”
“Well, I just—” You cover your mouth, chewing. “I didn’t set out to get drunk, honestly, but I did sort of have a sense that I could if I wanted to. I trust you.”
Remus’ chest warms. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, kissing cheese sauce off your fingertips. “I mean, I know you’d always watch out for me if I needed you to.”
It’s a good thing none of his friends are looking back, because Remus is fairly certain the smile that takes him would earn him at least three days of jokes and teasing. He loves that you feel that way. You and Remus have only been dating for a handful of weeks, but he does want to look after you and it makes him happy beyond reason that you feel safe enough to let him. The kiss he presses into your hair is heavy with affection.
“I’m glad,” he says. Understatement of the year.
You curl closer to him, your arm pressing against his through your coats. Remus treasures the closeness. He wishes you were like this more often. Not drunk, necessarily, but free with yourself, with asking for and occasionally taking what you want.
You look up at him, eyes glittery in the low light. “Would you like a chip?” you ask him sweetly.
When Remus agrees, you try to feed it to him, missing by a mile. It’s a plot; he lets you kiss the cheese sauce off the edges of his mouth for as long as you like.
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 6
Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, you get your very own samantha from her (2013) lol, time skips as a plot device!, this has an arc i promise, if anybody here plays disco elysium you’ll find that i took concepts of “the pale” as inspo at some points in this chapter lmao A/N: Oof this one’s a little longer than any of the previous chapters. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 (and just a heads up, this might be the last chapter I post before I kick it off for the holidays. advance happy holidays! if you guys celebrate that sort of thing.)
Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8
There’s a quiet stillness brought by the morning after that makes the problems of a heavier night seem like a fairly distant memory.
For at least a few minutes past the moment you blink away the stubborn grit in your eyes—you don’t remember the last time you’ve been this well-rested in ages—you lie, listless, on the soft powder-blue bedding of your twin-size mattress, watching specks of dander and dust drift from the amber sunlight that filters through the cracked panes of the casement window.
It floats aimlessly; unhurried. Much like you.
The echo of last night’s events return to you in sporadic flashes—fragmented and unsteady. The whispered exchanges, the playful banter between you and your unlikely conversation partner play back in your mind, like some half-finished supercut.
And the more you recall, the more awake you feel, chipping away the last traces of daytime lethargy weighing you down.
“So, what happens now?”
The sound of a car backfiring breaks through from the outside, like a starting pistol signalling the beginning of another day. A familiar, heavy weight presses against your side, and you thread your fingers through the scraggly fur of the purring feline who’s taken the empty space on your left, just above the covers.
You breathe in deeply, closing your eyes.
“I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”
You realize how many questions still linger, a lot more left unanswered. Far more than what you were able to glean, at least. From what little you’ve learned, an entirely new moral dilemma emerges—one you never imagined you'd have to contend with.
There’s a lot of things you’ve never expected to happen. Yet here you are.
“Seems we’re at an impasse.”
It’s an odd thing in itself. You keep waiting for the disbelief to catch up, for a shred of sanity to surface and make you reject the situation you’ve found yourself entangled in. You should be feeling the same, pesky feelings that pulled you sharply out of your flight of fancy last night; a sense of trepidation for what lies ahead in this tenuous game of two.
But instead, you’re here. Now fully awake, and already looking forward to the day with wary acceptance. Looking forward to resuming where you’ve left off with that charming anomaly who’s upended your world, and left you suspended in an exhilarating limbo of uncertainty and excitement.
“...Indeed.”
You crave it—like the first stirrings of a neophyte druggie teetering on the edge of an irreversible habit.
You need another hit.
“Why the long face, little dove?”
Because if desire could manifest into being, it would’ve been Sylus.
“We can figure this out together, can’t we?”
You pick up your phone.
––––
“You’re here? Make yourself at home.”
You look at him, deadpan. He looks back at you serenely.
Your voice takes on a dry monotone when you respond, “Keep talking like that, I’m about to cum.”
There’s a shocked silence; then––
Sylus barks out a surprised laugh, immediately breaking character.
You snort. “Good morning to you too, I guess.”
He meets your gaze with a look of scandalized amusement, his smile wide enough to flash teeth.
"Good morning, indeed."
––––
You two fall into a natural rhythm even before the day comes to a close. Perceptive as he is, Sylus hasn’t let you linger in the unease left over from last night any longer than necessary—which to say, should be left buried and forgotten, past its provenance.
“So you could, like–hypothetically, top up my ascension materials… indefinitely?” There’s a manic shine to your eyes when you confront him back at the home screen, gleeful and triumphant after you boost almost all the 5-star cards you have of him up to max level. “Like an infinite glitch?”
He’s content to just simply listen to your excited chatter from his languid perch on the seat, one palm resting against the side of his face as he watches you—half-lidded and relaxed. Utterly entertained by your antics.
The slight twitching of his mouth, the subtle tilt of his head… each minute shift in his expression makes a whole world of difference from the version you’ve known him longest—almost a lifetime ago.
Now he acts so human, so alive, that it’s almost unreal.
(It’s almost imperceptible, but you swear the air also feels different; like the pixelated space around him is bending, stretching, to accommodate this newer him.)
“Sure,” he shrugs, lips quirking up into a half-smile as he notices the deep crease forming between your brows.
He knows the question you’re about to ask—curious thing that you are.
“How, though? Like, what are ‘materials’ to you?” You make air quotes with your fingers, making you appear all the more endearing to him look at, in your process to make sense of a world that’s unfamiliar to you.
“Think of it as upgrades,” Sylus explains patiently. “You place the order to modify the equipment I use, in whichever situation calls for it.”
“And Memory Cards?”
“... A video reel, maybe. Or a restricted case file—locked until you’ve got enough to trade for the information you want.”
“And I suppose the dealer in question here is you?”
He arches an eyebrow. “Who else?”
“Huh,” you say, considering. “So, Deepspace Trials. That’s something you do on the daily? Because I… make you?”
“More or less.”
“And you never thought to question that?”
“Mm, maybe I’ll start charging for my services this time around.”
You roll your eyes, already accepting his analogy for what it is. “Oh, please. With the amount of money I’ve spent on this game, consider yourself paid in full.”
––––
You were right about your earlier prediction—this new Sylus in combat mode is something else.
For starters, he’s a lot chattier.
“Ouch, kitten– don’t charge in like that.”
“Why are you using a sword? Don’t you like the guns I’ve given you specifically for this?”
“What are you waiting for? Make her resonate with me now.”
And, instead of sticking to his lines and responding to whatever the MC’s programmed to say during battle, he focuses on whatever you’re fussing over—no matter how… moronic it is.
“Ah, fuck! I hate that spinning thing!”
“Move, then. Let me handle it.”
“Block it, block it!”
“I would, if you weren’t halfway across the field. Stick closer to your partner next time, yeah?”
He doesn’t say any of his usual lines. Nothing from his scripted prompts. When all Wanderers are defeated, there’s no post-battle banter between him and the MC.
“Goddamn, you’re strong!” You whoop giddily, completely energized by straight winning almost twelve Orbit trials in a row. I guess that��s what a fully awakened Solar pair gets you, huh?
Sylus lets out a chuckle, infected by your enthusiasm. He doesn’t sound the least bit winded, despite all the damned fighting you’ve put him through.
“We make a good team,” he allows. And because he likes the little nose scrunch you do when you’re annoyed— “Although your dodging really needs more practice, sweetie.”
Before you could think of a comeback, the pop-up window for the next stage comes up. Ass.
––––
Come Monday morning and you’re once again swamped with work.
You barely have enough time to scrounge something up for lunch—if it weren’t for the persistent reminders from Sylus, chiming in every five minutes once the digital clock on your phone had hit eleven-thirty, you’d probably skip eating altogether.
And make something else than just boiling a pot of instant ramen, sweetheart. You’re on track for an early grave at this rate.
“I could… add an egg?” You suggest, unsure. “Maybe cut up some tofu, make it gourmet?”
He doesn’t even dignify the egg suggestion with a response. Tofu’s a good start. Now, what else do you have in your pantry that has nutritional value?
“I despise that,” you mutter, but start rifling through the cupboards anyway.
After amassing enough ingredients—or what looks more like a sad pile—that might, with some effort, turn into something healthier than your usual go-to fix, you start Googling recipes online.
‘tofu easy lunch recipe’
‘10 mins tofu recipes’
‘begginer recipe using tofu frozen dory mixed veg—’ Ping!
… Really, kitten?
You don’t even have to see him to know he’s giving you that look, the one that’s practically dripping with judgment over your dubious life choices.
(You know it all too well. Personally, in fact. You see it on some relatives' faces at the family get-togethers you’re always required to attend.)
Great. Heat creeps up your face as you mumble defensively, “Stop. Not everyone’s a culinary genius, okay?”
After that, he lets you be – something you’re thankful for, really. He’s being too distracting anyway.
Swallowing down the–stubborn and suffocating–embarrassment that's now stuck in your throat, you keep scrolling through Tasty dot co, praying you can whip up something edible with what (little) you have. You’re fully aware that you’re a grown-ass woman who can’t manage a basic life skill and that you’re probably about to burn down your kitchen—
Another notification pops up.
Pull up your tabs, sweetie. I think you’ll find something there that we could put together easily.
Confused, you do as he says. Sure enough, four tofu-related recipes are neatly grouped together in your Chrome browser, ready to be tried and tested.
Your eyes widen. “Wait—you did this? How?”
He doesn’t answer your question. He does, however, offer: Want me to coach you through it? Cooking’s more fun done with a partner, I’d say.
-
-
In the end, you manage to make something that tasted way better than you thought you could do by yourself. You have him to thank for that.
“You happy with it?” Sylus asks, grinning at the satisfied look on your face.
“Mhm!” you hum around a mouthful of food. “Fanks, Sy.”
“Anytime, darling.”
––––
“Do you really have to call me ‘kitten’? You sound like a Discord mod.”
Sylus has no idea what a Discord mod is, but judging by the contempt in your voice, it’s clear that you’re not giving him a compliment.
"What do you prefer, then? Princess? Poppet? Sweet thing?" He pauses, tilting his head. "Baby?"
You blush and look away. "... Ugh, whatever. Kitten's fine."
––––
Your routine with Sylus settles into a seamless, effortless flow as the days go by; it’s almost second nature, talking to him. So much so that you’d think nothing could faze you anymore.
Well. Almost nothing.
A message bubble from an unknown number appears on your lock screen: Hi, sweetheart. X
You almost ignore it—brushing it off as some dumb prank from a bored rando—when, not even five seconds later, another text pops up.
+0063-XXXXXX: Its Sylus.
… Huh?
“Is someone fucking with me right now, or…”
+0063-XXXXXX: Nobodys ‘fucking with you,’ kitten.
Then–
+0063-XXXXXX: Send a reply so I can see how it shows up on my end.
Your jaw drops. “Holy shit—you can text?? How are you doing that?” and, “Did you just cuss...?”
+0063-XXXXXX: 👍
+0063-XXXXXX: And Ill let you know if you text me the question 🙄
So you do. You tack on a now spill?? at the end for good measure.
You watch the “typing…” bubble appear, holding your breath.
+0063-XXXXXX: Its a complex mix of technical code and harnessing the energy from a dormant protofield Ive discovered, just south of Vagrants Land.
+0063-XXXXXX: The energy I got from it felt different somehow from your normal protofield. I figured I could put it to good use.
+0063-XXXXXX: Oddly enough, theres an… indescribable effect to oneself when youre nearing the centre of disturbance, shall we say.
+0063-XXXXXX: I can only decrypt the waveforms by the rarefield border surrounding the AoR. Any further and Im afraid the adverse effects may do more harm than good.
+0063-XXXXXX: But if amplified, it seems responsive to the filament of what connects your signal from deep space to this planet.
+0063-XXXXXX: Who knew it could act as a transmitter to send you something as rudimentary as a telegraph?
… Sometimes you forget how smart Sylus really is.
You: that’s pretty amazing ?? wtf sylus
+0063-XXXXXX: I get by OK.
You could practically feel his smugness radiating from those four words. You scoff, shaking your head in a mix of awe and begrudging admiration.
He sends two more messages.
+0063-XXXXXX: Im just glad we can communicate through other means, sweetie.
Sy-Sy (??): Now save my number. Sy Sy will suffice 😉
––––
Since your latest discovery that Sylus can now text (!!), you’ve been talking to him outside the game non-stop. It’s like talking to a very active friend who never leaves you on read, and you couldn’t be more ecstatic.
You: so no one else in ur universe knows anything abt ur situation?
You: no one else acting funny or sumn ? >.>
Sy-Sy (??): None that I know of, no. I prefer to keep it under wraps.
Sy-Sy (??): Now that you mention it, Mephisto has been acting quite suspicious lately.
You: ?? suspicious-suspicious or just reg suspicious??
Sy-Sy (??): Hes with his other crow friends now. They might be attempting a murder.
You: ………. is that…. supposed 2 be a joke……….
Sy-Sy (??): Im running on 3 hours of sleep, give me a break.
Sy-Sy (??): Also your textspeak is horrendous, sweetie.
"Um, hello—?"
Your gaze snaps back to the–very real, very present–person sitting across from you at the table, sporting box-dyed blue hair and a frown. You're at the Annex House; a sleek, new-age Japandi-style bar downtown, just an easy five stations away from your place. You both decided to try it for their infamous Rotten Apple cocktail and, of course, your weekly catch-up.
Khol, your friend of eight years since college, is currently giving you a mildly annoyed look.
Oops.
They point at you accusingly while complaining, "Ugh, we don’t use our phones when we’re hanging out! That’s the rule!"
You smile at them, sheepish, pocketing your phone as discreetly as you could. “I know, I know. Sorry.”
Then, puffing out your cheeks, you meekly ask, “You were talking about Anna...?”
They roll their eyes but go over the gossip a second time, much to your benefit. Phew.
Your phone vibrates. Twice.
…
You sneak a quick, final peek.
Sy-Sy (??): Enjoy your night out, darling ❤️
Sy-Sy (??): You let me know when youre back home, OK?
Biting back a grin, you send out one last text in reply.
You: will do !:9
Sy-Sy (??): Good girl.
––––
"Um–so this is my cat, Maru," you say by way of introduction, holding the plump, orange tabby in front of your phone that’s propped up against a carton of Koko Krunch. There’s a slight struggle in lifting his left paw between your fingers to wave at the man on the other side of the screen. "Say hi, Maru."
“Hello, Maru,” Sylus greets amicably in return, watching the both of you with clear amusement in his eyes. “Care to tell me the origin of this proud beast?”
You recount the story where you’ve first seen Maru five years ago, nothing more than a scraggly little runt at the time, hiding in the gap between a dumpster and the interstice of a cragged wall. You were walking home from a night out drinking with your uni buddies, when you heard the incessant meowing.
It drew you in like a siren’s call. If the siren in question had the vocal prowess of a warbling whale on the brink of death.
Upon closer inspection, the grimy fluffball revealed a stubby, crooked tail and wide, beady eyes. In your alcohol-fueled haze, you briefly wondered if you were staring at a tiny ginger rat.
“Well, it’s definitely all cat,” your friend Bee declared by noon the following day, calmly retracting a scratched and bloodied hand from the disgruntled feline, which promptly hissed and darted right back under the bed.
You hummed in agreement, passing her a wad of tissue.
"I couldn’t decide between Nospurratu and Catpin Meow," you say matter-of-factly, giving your capricious son a scritch under his chin. "Bee suggested I stick to something simpler, like Maru. Hence the name."
Your explanation is punctuated by an offended nip on your pointer finger.
Sylus is covering his mouth, but nods solemnly. “I think Maru is a nice name.”
There’s a moment where the two seem locked in a silent standoff, neither breaking eye contact nor making any sort of outward reaction. Just as you’re about to step in and interrupt the bizarre staring contest, Maru gives a slow, deliberate blink.
Sylus takes it as a sign of victory—or perhaps a ceremonial seal of approval.
With a faint smirk on his lips, he offers the cat a small bow in respect.
––––
You’ve practically emptied the entire arcade of plushies—enough to put it out of business if it were actually, you know, real—and you’re bored to tears.
“Another round of Kitty Cards, perhaps?” Sylus suggests, but a single glance at your face is enough to let him know that you’d rather gnaw off your own hand. Or his. He might just let you.
Sighing dramatically, you complain about the limited playability of the “mini-games” in-game.
“There’s literally nothing else to do. Same old shit, over and over again.” There’s a pout on your face that Sylus wants to nibble on, not that you’re aware of the forming thoughts in his head. “No new banners. I’m stuck between Kitty Cards and the claw machines... I’m bored, Syyyyy,” you whine, stretching the last syllable for effect.
To be fair, he has tried to make it a bit more challenging for you. He stopped fucking around during Kitty Cards—no more extra two cards in exchange for one of yours, no longer placing different colored kitties deliberately in the wrong cups.
After six straight losses, your frustration is palpable. The fun is gone.
He makes audible commentaries during each of your six tries at the claw machine. Every time you manage to snag a plushie, he praises you for a job well done (It flusters you—not that he needs to know that). When your luck runs out and you grab onto nothing but air, he wryly points it out through some slight ribbing, but nothing that’s actually hurtful (This flusters you too—again, not that he needs to know any of this).
There’s nothing else to do. It’s like you’ve exhausted all you could in this small, curated window of his that you’re privy to. If only there’s a way to leave the mini-games behind, to do something new, perhaps outside of what the game has to offer…
Oh, wait.
“Hey, Sy,” you call the man to attention. “Wanna try something out?”
-
-
You beat him at Words with Friends by a small margin.
“Ha! That’s thirty-nine points, buddy.” You crow proudly, after putting down Devotees in a straight column.
He eviscerates you at Zynga Poker.
“... How are you so good at this??”
“Comes with the package, sweetie,” he says with faux-modesty after revealing (yet another!!) full house, winking like he hasn’t just wiped the floor with you.
By the end of it, both of you are in high spirits—except, maybe, for your bruised ego.
––––
“Say my name, say my name… If no one is around you, say baby I love you…”
“It’s nice to know that we have another thing in common, little dove.”
It takes you a moment to process what he’s implying.
You stop singing, affronted. “Wh—how dare you.”
––––
“Are you having fun?” Sylus asks, his tone droll as he stands there, hands on his hips and a small scowl on his face. You’re too busy spinning him around, thoroughly entertained by the number of outfits and accessories you’ve forced upon your slightly reluctant model in the photoshoot that's currently taking place.
It’s more amusing, knowing that he’s fully-aware of what’s happening. And that you know he’s aware of what’s happening.
He’s like your personal, sentient Ken doll—if Ken had ashy grey hair, red eyes, and a mercurial attitude.
“I am, actually,” you shoot back, grinning as you plop a tomato stuffie on top of his head. “Look, you two match!”
He exhales a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head in mock exasperation.
Not that it stops you. Fluffy bunny ears, a fish headband, an uncharacteristic halo—you’re relentless. “Hey, can you try a different pose?”
“That depends on the pose… and how nicely you ask.”
“Dear Sylus,” you sing, jutting your bottom lip forward and fluttering your eyelashes exaggeratedly, “could you please, pretty please, flip the camera off?”
He snorts but obliges, raising his hand to deliver the most effortlessly cool middle finger you’ve ever seen. “Happy?”
Woah. That’s… hot. “Oh! Uh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s—”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your reaction. You giggle nervously. “You look… hot.”
“Mm?” His smirk grows, teasing and predatory. “What was that?”
“Nothing!” you blurt out, but the pinking of your cheeks betrays you. He’s definitely enjoying this now.
“I could be convinced to do another one,” he murmurs, voice pitching a little lower.
You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to say the first thing that comes to mind. Stop, you whore.
Your nerves get the best of you. Without thinking, you switch to putting the MC back on screen.
Sylus blinks, red eyes narrowing as he looks at you, perplexed.
“Uh,” you shift your gaze between her frozen stance and his idle figure. The sudden silence hangs a little heavy in the air. “Would–would you like to do poses? With her?”
He opens his mouth, an automatic response—but he stops, expression flickering into something unreadable. Confusion? Hesitation?
His brows knit together, and for a short while, he just studies you, the space between you thick with unspoken questions.
“Do you want me to?” he asks finally, his voice quieter, almost careful.
No–I don’t want you to— To pose with someone who looks so-–
perfectperfectperfect by your side—I only want to see you—
I want to see you––
Why do I care–?
I don’t care––I care, I care so much––
“Why not?” you choke out, the forced cheer in your voice grating even to your own ears. You shrug, nonchalant in all the ways you’re not. “I’ll dress her up real nice, and then—” You slap a pink bow onto his head. “You can try to keep up.”
He doesn’t move, not paying the offending accessory any attention. His gaze is solely locked onto yours.
I don’t care. I don’t.
You take the first shot.
____
“What’s the song you’re playing?”
You pause mid-mop, cocking your head to the side in slight surprise.
“Uhh—Pedestal,” you answer unsurely. “By Portishead. You like it?”
He hums, eyes glinting with interest. “I do. Play the rest.”
And just like that, you’re introducing Sylus to modern twenty-first century music—and to Spotify.
____
From that point on, Sylus begins using your Spotify account to discover a whole new world of music—quite literally, in his case. Sometimes he steals the control from you, overriding what you’re currently listening to, just to hear the most random track play from your speakers.
In the middle of a mundane afternoon while you're completely locked in at work—hyperpop synths blaring in your ears—you’re suddenly jolted by the sound of heavy mandolins as an honest-to-god Russian military march blasts through your headphones, shattering your focus like a damn rhino in a china shop.
And so with the level of patience that could put the Virgin Mary to shame, you painstakingly explain to your friend the courtesy of not stealing the proverbial AUX cord from the “driver,” especially when it’s their turn on the radio.
The two of you reach a compromise, and thus the birth of your “shared” playlist. Sylus reluctantly agrees to explore on his own time—when you’re not using the app. Like when you’re busy with other things. Or when you're asleep.
-
-
-
You wake up to the first strings of a Muse song. One of your favorites, in fact.
Sy-Sy (??): Good morning, sweetie.
Sy-Sy (??): Last night was enlightening. I have you to thank for that.
Sy-Sy (??): Oh, and I hope you could indulge me. I added some songs to our playlist. I think youll like them. We both seem to have a thing for alt-rock.
Sy-Sy (??): Give me time and Im sure Ill acquire a taste for electronic music too. Be patient.
You huff out a laugh, lazily rolling over as you check your shared playlist. Sure enough, there’s twelve new songs on it.
You: awe that’s great sy :)) and these songz r rly good !! u got sum of my faves here
You: based on what u like maybe u can try looking up sum david bowie, probz massive attack idk
You: i’ll add stuff later for u to listen 2!!! <2
You: <3*
Sy-Sy (??): Alright, sweetheart. Im looking forward to it.
Sy-Sy (??): ♥️
____
From the outside, the studio is just another unit among endless rows of dull grey—small and unassuming. Tucked away on the sixth floor of a nondescript building, it’s built as unremarkable as the rest.
Through a window stained with a mix of corrosive ochre and burnt sienna, there’s a quiet hum—the presence of something that wasn’t there a week ago. Life has shifted, ever so subtly, from an oppressive achroma to a much warmer vibrancy.
There’s a faint hint of movement. Inside, the young woman wears an almost-permanent smile, her phone an extension of her hand as she taps away with no semblance of rhyme nor rhythm—only in a continuous staccato. Her eyes are locked on the screen, as if drawn by an invisible force.
It’s elusive; this connection—something beyond. Supranatural. It weaves through the room like whispered secrets shared in the dead of the night, beneath a city blanketed in deep ultramarine. Soft, like a wind brushing through a still everglade.
The apartment, once steeped in a self-inflicted solitude—one that went by unnoticed for a long period of time—comes alive as an intangible presence fills its nooks and crannies with the steady warmth of companionship. There’s a gentle heat to the space now, like the glow of an invisible hearth.
The flickering of the string lights, the muted laughter shared with a voice through the tinny speakers of a handheld device, a slight signal interference… all feel like the genesis of an impossible story.
Outside, the evening sky is fading into twilight.
And as one looks out onto the street below from the sixth floor window, it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t quite matter anymore.
Inside, the air is full of life, in ways it has never been.
____
“Come to me, just in a dream
Come on and rescue me
Yes, I know I can be wrong
And maybe you’re too headstrong
Our love is––”
Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @tinyweebsstuff @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean
(if..... for some damn reason..... the tags still don't work i rly don't know what i'm doing wrong T_T i'm posting this from a macbook is that it, is the ghost of steve jobs fucking with me rn)
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lads x you#lads x reader#love and deepspace fic#sylus qin
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄.
logan howlett x fem!reader
summary: when you wake up sick on your favorite day of the year, logan tries his hand at a romantic gesture
OR the time logan howlett gave you the best at home halloween you could ask for
contains: so!! much!! fluff!! soft logan, friends to lovers, some angst, mentions of past trauma, reader has telekinetic powers, kissing, swearing
!! there’s a scene in here inspired by “room for rent” by @hauntedhowlett-writes ! go check out their amazing work !!
word count: 5.5k (i got insanely carried away)
a/n: sorry for this little period of inactivity!! i’ve been feeling under the weather and lacking some inspiration and motivation, but luckily i think i’ve got my groove back! i hope you all have a happy halloween & enjoy this sweet story of everyone’s favorite wolvie <3
mutant feelings on halloween were fairly divided.
it was a love or hate kind of thing. many viewed the holiday as a hypocritical mockery; how could humans be so outward in their distaste for mutants while dedicating an entire day to parading around as the very creatures they despised? others, like yourself, saw it as a joyful occasion. a day where everyone could be as authentically themselves as they wanted to be, and not get judged for it.
safe to say, it was your favorite holiday. something you looked forward to every year, especially since you never really got the opportunity to properly celebrate it growing up.
you had the whole day planned out for weeks. your costume decided far before that. much like how a child felt on christmas eve, you felt a similar excitement and anticipation building within you on the night of october 30th.
but it would appear the powers at large weren’t feeling too generous. because at a little bit past 8, your throat started feeling scratchy.
it was easy to blame it on the changing weather, maybe some seasonal allergies if you were feeling particularly delusional. you knew exactly how your body behaved when you were feeling sick, and it always started with a sore throat. still, you snuggled under the blanket in hopes that it would pass by morning.
by the time the sun rose, your nose was blocked and it felt like you were swallowing glass.
so much for a happy halloween.
you stumble out of your room in sweatpants and a cardigan, significantly less presentable than your normal attire. all you wanted was to stay in bed, but there was a group of young students that weren’t going to teach themselves. so you dragged yourself from the comfort of your cocoon, splashed some cold water on your face, and hoped you looked presentable enough.
the glimpse you catch of yourself in the mirror on the way out didn’t appear very promising. it seems your suspicions are confirmed when a familiar face spots you.
“you look like hell,” logan calls from the other end of the hallway. he makes his way over to you in long swift strides, the heavy sound of his boots echoing in the rather quiet space.
“sure feel like it too,” you utter back weakly, your voice hoarse and tired. unexpectedly, the back of his palm presses gently against your forehead, a crease forming between his brows when he feels how warm you are.
“jesus, you’re burning up.”
“funny, because i’m absolutely freezing,” you croak, wrapping your sweater tightly around your body to prove your point. when you suddenly sneeze, everything in the hallway shakes. from the paintings on the walls, to the vases on tables scattered about. you flush in embarrassment and logan frowns.
he places his hand on the small of your back, nudging you in the direction of your bedroom door.
“logan, i have a class to teach,” you argue weakly, followed by a nasty sounding cough.
“you can’t teach them anything if you’re like this the whole time bub.”
silence on your end, because you know he’s right. you just hate caving when you’re feeling under the weather, always trying your hardest to persevere. especially, on today of all days.
“but it’s halloween,” you counter with a whine, on the verge of pouting because you were so annoyed and fed up. “i had a fun lesson about edgar allan poe planned.”
“had the whole damn day planned,” you huff to yourself, though you should’ve known logan’s enhanced hearing would catch it.
he shoots you a sympathetic glance, unlocking the door and motioning you inside.
“i know,” he soothes you with the rubbing of his thumb against the base of your spine. “maybe if you get some rest now, you’ll feel better later, yeah?”
you sigh, flopping onto your mattress dramatically.
“i suppose you’re right.”
logan chuckles at your grumbling against the bedsheets. he makes his way over to you again, brushing away the hair that was stuck to your forehead. crouching down, he presses the sweetest kiss against your temple, and his heart swells at the tired little smile you give him.
“i’ll come back to check on you in a bit,” he promises. “in the meantime, you try and get some shut eye.”
you nod from your position against the pillows, eyes already fluttering shut in hopes that maybe logan was right. you’d feel better in a few hours, and today could be saved after all. in your mind, you were optimistic.
your body, however, had other plans.
before it was even noon, you went through a whole box of tissues, and sneezed so hard and violently that it damn near shook the whole entire floor. any glimmer of hope for getting better was snuffed out quickly, meaning you’d be a prisoner to this bed until you got better in a few days.
when logan came back to check on you, he was surprised to see the state of your bedroom. the usually clean, tidy space was ridden with tissues, your comforter was on the floor, and everything hanging on the wall had been turned every which way. and to top it all off, you were curled on the side of your bed, sniffling with washed out cheeks and a bright red nose.
“do not, say i look like shit,” you warn him, though you lack any sort of intimidation. logan shoots his hands up in defense from his place in the doorway.
“wasn’t planning on it.”
you open one eye and raise an eyebrow.
the corner of his lip turns up in a smirk. “i was going to say your room looks like shit.”
one of your throw pillows feebly comes into contact with his head. not nearly as hard as you intended, but your powers were always a little out of wack whenever your immune system was.
“s’ not funny logan,” you squeak, fully peaking your head out from it’s place in your blanket burrito.
logan picks the pillow up from the floor, mindlessly tossing it between his hands as he walks towards your bed.
“you know i can’t help teasing you when you’re grumpy,” he jokes, coming to sit on the corner of your mattress.
“i’m grumpy because this is my favorite day of the year and i’m stuck in a purgatory of snot and mucus,” you groan. the pout on your face is unmistakable, and logan would think it was the cutest thing he’s ever seen if there wasn’t genuine sadness in your tone.
“why do you even like this stupid holiday so much anyways?” logan questions. it comes out a bit meaner than he wants it to, like he’s making fun of you. it only adds to your upset state, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“because it’s fun,” you bite. “especially when you’re a kid that never got to experience it until you became an adult. i do the same thing every year because it brings me comfort. people like us don't get a lot of that.”
logan knows how true that is better than anyone.
“plus it’s a day mutants don’t have to worry as much,” you continue. “we can be ourselves and it looks like we’re just blending in with everyone else.”
you mumble this last part with a glumness he’s never heard from you before.
“it’s like we’re normal.”
logan doesn’t say anything in rebuttal. he just nods his head in agreeance, letting your words sink in. he never thought about it that way, and a wave of guilt suddenly washes over him for not considering that your feelings about today ran deeper than he initially thought.
the sound of a pill bottle shaking snaps you from your wallowing. your eyes flick back to logan, who’s holding medicine in his free hand.
“stole these from the infirmary,” he gets up to place the bottle on your bedside table, picking up a few stray tissues and tossing them into the small trash can next to your bed. “figured you could use something to help you feel a little better.”
you croak out a “thanks” before that dreaded tickling in your nose starts again.
“oh no,” you whisper, bracing for impact. logan looks at you with a puzzled expression at the exact moment when you sneeze. the entire room shakes, sending the wolverine stumbling back a few paces. there’s a couple seconds of vibration afterwards before everything returns to normal.
after regaining his footing, logan makes a beeline for the bathroom. you hear the faucet running and he returns to you with a glass of water.
he nods at you wordlessly, head motioning back and forth between you and the cup. you sniffle as you shuffle yourself upright. you take the medicine without a word, letting the cold water soothe your irritated throat. logan’s eyes don’t leave your face the entire time. he stares at you with something unfamiliar, to both you, and to him. it makes a new kind of warmth coat your body, one that has little to do with your current state.
your relationship with logan was hard to explain. you weren’t quite lovers, and labeling what transpired between you as friendship didn’t feel adequate. friends surely didn’t kiss each other on the cheek, or occasionally doze on each other’s shoulder during long sleepless nights. it was so painfully obvious to everyone else that there was something between you two.
but knowing logan and his track record of emotional unavailability, you always doubted whether or not he really shared those feelings.
clearing his throat, he dissolves any buzz you were feeling. logan offers you a tight lipped smile before slowly backing away. there’s a part of you that misses the closeness already, but you shove it down.
“if you need anything else, you know where to find me,” he says quietly, his body halfway out the door.
you nod with tired eyes. “thanks again logan.”
he simply nods his head once more before shutting the door completely.
you slink back under the comfort of your blanket, allowing the weight of your own words to take their effect. today wasn’t just special because it was a way to heal your inner child. today was important to you because you could feel safe in a world that normally didn’t accept people like your family. people like you. as cliche as it sounded, it was the truth.
as you try to fall back to sleep, you can’t help but dramatically wonder if being sick today was the universe’s way of punishing you for your optimism. for believing there could ever come a time where people accepted mutants.
it was a silly notion that would have to be pried from your cold dead hands. because though you didn’t have much comfort, you always had hope.
when you succumb to the drowsiness, you dream of being a child that didn’t have to be locked away in a lab on all hallows eve.
the smell of cookie dough rouses you from slumber.
slowly, you come to, stretching out your tired limbs as you shrug off the blanket that was wrapped around your figure since this morning. you’re still tired, but the fatigue that burdened your body was much less than it was a few hours ago. the medicine that logan brought you had worked. you smile to yourself, remembering to thank him the next time you saw him.
orange light bathes your room in a sunkissed glow, signaling that the day is coming to an end. the disappointment from before creeps its way back in, a reminder that all your plans for today were a wash. you squint your eyes in the direction of your alarm clock, trying to make out the time.
6:37 pm.
it was still early enough that you could try and put on a movie at least. scott, jean, and ororo, were set to take all of the kids trick or treating around 6. you were supposed to be joining them, but from the stark silence that seeped in from under the door, it was clear they were already well on their way without you.
you know it's because you weren’t feeling well, but that didn’t make it sting any less. you stare at the costume hung over your desk chair, and suddenly it feels like you’re a little girl again, sad and disappointed because you couldn’t go out with all the other kids.
maybe next year, you tell yourself.
after a moment of self pity, it hits you just how gross you’re feeling. staying in bed all day always sounded good in theory, but in practice, it just made you feel like a slob. in a flash, you kick all the covers to the foot of the bed, making your way to the bathroom and stripping off your clothes as you went. you were in desperate need of a hot shower, a leg shave, the whole nine yards.
steam cakes the mirror with condensation, the soft sound of water trickling down the drain relaxing you almost immediately. you take your time washing the day away, letting the scalding hot droplets soothe your tired muscles. you stand beneath the stream until the water goes cold, shutting the shower off and reaching for a plush towel.
the cold air of your room erupts goosebumps on your skin. whether it was from the change in temperature, or the fact that your room was now completely back to normal, you’re not sure.
strange. you don’t recall hearing anyone enter. surely this much reorganizing would’ve created some noise, something audible over the sound of running water, but you can’t remember hearing the slightest peep.
you cling to the towel around your body like a lifeline, afraid someone was going to jump out from a corner and startle you. after a quick once over of the room, you accept the fact that it’s empty. your eyes settle on a set of clothes folded neatly on the corner of your bed.
your comfiest pajamas. an old baggy t-shirt with yellow and orange plaid pants.
too tired to question it, you slip them on without a second thought, relishing in the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. you felt more like yourself than you have all day.
the sweet aroma from before catches your attention again. no one was supposed to be here still, not anyone you’d expect to be baking anyways. curiosity gets the best of you, and you make your way out of your bedroom and down the main staircase to the kitchen.
the last thing you expect to see is logan howlett fussing over a tray of cookies.
he grumbles something incoherent under his breath. probably a swear word or two, given he looked frustrated and out of his element.
“what are you doing?” your voice manages to startle him, a first you have yet to see since logan arrived at the mansion.
the man scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, gesturing to the tray before him on the counter.
“i was uh,” he stumbles over his words. another logan first. “just pulling these out of the oven.”
you eye him mischievously. “since when do you bake?”
there’s a beat of awkward silence that passes while logan struggles to conjure up a logical answer. because no, he didn’t bake, not now, not ever in his life. but what’s the alternative? the much scarier conversation about his feelings?
from the knowing glint in your eye, it might just have to be the latter.
logan sighs. a sound of defeat, coupled with a flash of teeth. he leans back against the edge of the counter, thick arms folded across a broad chest.
“marie helped me put ‘em in,” he admits a bit sheepishly. “was afraid i’d burn the place down if i tried to do it myself.”
you laugh at the memory of scott storming into the kitchen with a fire extinguisher last month after logan tried to cook eggs. it sparks a fondness in your chest, connecting the dots as to why logan would go through all this trouble.
“i’m glad she stepped in before you could manage to start a fire,” you joke, stepping further into the kitchen. it grants you a better look at just how messy it was, from the flour sprinkled across countertops, to bowls thrown askew. your brows pull together in confusion, a question on the tip of your tongue before you turn in the direction of the common area.
your eyes nearly water at the sight.
the living room had been turned into a heaven of pillows and blankets, little tealights placed around the edge of the table in the center. there was a stack of movies nearly as tall as you sitting in the middle, and when you squint, you could make out a few of the titles.
a nightmare on elm street, hocus pocus, friday the 13th.
they were all your favorite halloween movies.
logan comes into your peripheral vision, carefully gauging your reaction with nervous eyes.
“what’s all this?” you breathe out, a surprised smile forming on your face. it brightens even more when you see how shy logan looks from his place against the wall.
“i know you were bummed that things didn’t go how you wanted today,” he speaks lowly, somewhat unsure of himself. it was almost heartwarming to see such a rugged, brooding man be so timid. clearly this was something way outside of his comfort zone.
and yet, he did all this for you.
he looks around the room, stalling on meeting your gaze out of nerves. when he finally does, there’s so much adoration, so much tenderness in your eyes that he’s overwhelmed by it.
it’s something so foreign to logan, but it feels so right. something that he’s unknowingly longed for, and now that he has it, he’s determined not to let it slip from his grasp.
he’s got a little bit of his regular confidence back now. it's evident in the way he straightens himself out, his natural smirk returning.
“figured this might cheer you up a bit.”
the warmth in your cheeks is inevitable. it always was whenever logan was around, but this felt different than your normal exchanges. you thought maybe you had been imagining the lingering touches and stolen glances, that you were a fool for thinking logan could reciprocate the feelings you harbored for him.
but as he stands before you, with a small bashful smile and hazel eyes filled with warmth, you know that it’s not one sided. never was, and never could be.
logan nearly falls over when you jump into his arms, his hands coming to wrap around your waist on instinct. the embrace is unexpected, but not unwelcome. once logan takes a second to get his bearings, his body relaxes and molds into yours, lifting you an inch or two off the ground as he envelops you fully. your own arms wrap around his neck, face buried in his shoulder as you take in the feeling that you’ve wondered about for so long.
“thank you,” you whisper against the fabric of his shirt, smiling into the worn material.
with his enhanced senses, logan can feel the rapid thrum of your heartbeat against his own. months and months of dancing around each other finally coming to a head. he gives you one final, tight squeeze before pulling away, though he makes no move to let go of your body.
when he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, your knees feel like they might buckle.
“s’nothing much,” which was essentially logan speak for “i’d do everything in my power to keep you happy.”
you’re well aware that he’s not the best with expressing how he felt. but this simple, sweet gesture was worth more than any lengthy monologue in your book.
you catch him eyeing your mouth briefly, and you do the same, letting your mind travel to that familiar place of wondering. thinking about how his lips would feel against your own. how they would feel in other places. just as you find yourself leaning in, a kitchen timer buzzes, startling you both.
logan can’t hide his annoyance at the interruption, reluctantly removing himself from you to stop the incessant chiming.
“this damn thing,” he grumbles, shaking his head.
you stifle a laugh when he throws the timer back onto the counter a bit too harshly, sending it bouncing into a stray bowl.
deciding to take the reigns, you walk over and reach for his hand. logan’s eyes widen a bit at your outstretched palm, even more so at the confident grin you wear. he doesn’t hesitate to lock his hand in yours, trying his damndest to ignore the electricity he feels from such a small thing.
“come on,” you nod your head in the direction of the couch, playful sarcasm in your tone.
“we’ve only got all night.”
“i don’t see it.”
you whip your head in logan’s direction, shrieking out a “what?” as you look back at the tv screen.
“you look just like him,” you argue, leaning forward to grab a cookie from the plate he brought into the room. “it’s uncanny.”
logan laughs to himself, shaking his head at your antics. “you keep telling yourself that bub.”
as the credits of van helsing start to roll, you decide to try your hand at a bit of flirting.
“y’know, you should take that as a huge compliment,” you state, sinking further into the couch cushions.
logan raises a brow, taking a sip of his beer and experimentally scooting closer to you.
“and why’s that?”
you try to maintain your confidence, but logan doesn’t make it very easy. not when he’s a human furnace that’s inching into your space. not when he already makes you warm in the face in nearly every situation.
clearing your throat, you shrug a shoulder, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.
“i had a huge crush on him growing up. thought he was super hot.”
oh. if this is the game you’re playing, logan knows for sure he’ll win.
“really?” he exaggerates, placing his arm on the back of the couch. the tips of his fingers brush against your shoulder, and he relishes in the goosebumps they create.
“mhm,” you hum, eyes not wavering from the screen. “you should be super flattered right now.”
logan chuckles again, reaching for a cookie of his own. he decides he’ll space out his teasing, be a bit generous. you were in a poor position right now, still being a little sick and all.
he’d much prefer to see you really keep up with him anyways. still, he can’t help himself.
“whatever you say darlin’,” he murmurs.
your breath hitches ever so slightly.
jesus christ it feels like this couch is on fire.
you can see his smirk out of the corner of your eye, and you feel like a schoolgirl over the way that one simple word was making you feel so giddy. tucking your legs underneath your body, you shift more to your side so you were now fully facing logan.
as you take in your surroundings, from the coziness of the living room, to the beauty of the man beside you, the inquiry that’s been floating around your head for the past couple hours falls from your lips.
“how did you even know all of this?” you question him while biting the head off of one of the bat cookies.
“know all of what?” he repeats, half of his mouth filled with cookie dough.
“that this is what i do,” you gesture to the television screen and the plate that was sitting on the table. “movies and cookies, specifically these, every single year?”
logan feigns realization, despite knowing what you meant the first time you asked. he was just too self conscious to explain the reason why. his coyness from earlier returns, the apples of his cheeks showing a tinge of pink.
“overheard you talking with ororo a couple days ago,” he begins, sliding his palms over the expanse of his denim clad thighs. “about the movie thing and stuff.”
you think back to that conversation with vague memory. you recall discussing your halloween plans, but never diving into such specifics.
logan answers your next question before you can utter it.
“i asked her this morning what all your favorite things were.” he clears his throat a bit awkwardly. “i wanted to do something once i realized you were sick.”
he trails off, not sure if he should venture into this territory again after his remark from earlier. he moves around so his position mirrors yours, making you both unable to avoid each other’s faces.
“i didn’t mean to be a dick before,” he starts to apologize. you know it’s taking a lot for him to admit his faults, and it makes all the effort he put into this even more meaningful.
“this,” he motions around the room, “was my way of trying to say i’m sorry.”
you tilt your head to the side, eyeing him empathetically.
“you don’t need to apologize for that,” you reassure him, placing a hand on his arm. “though i’m enjoying it. these cookies are really good.”
he smiles a little at your joke, soft crinkles forming in the corner of his eyes.
“i can’t take credit for that,” he admits, cocking his head in the direction of the staircase. “it was all marie.”
the thought of logan recruiting the teenager for assistance was sickly sweet. knowing marie, it was probably her idea to help. you can picture the pair of them in the kitchen, her seeming more like the adult and him like the child.
“still,” you assert. “just the fact that you thought of all this means a lot.”
his thumb rubs featherlight circle on your exposed skin. “it’s nothing, really.”
there he goes again with the undermining.
sighing, you drag your fingers up and down the expanse of his arm, eyes drawn to the motion rather than the man. you feel like your heart might burst if you go a second longer without being a bit more direct. but god was it nerve wracking. especially when logan looked at you like you were the only thing in the whole entire universe.
“this is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you admit lowly, toying with the hem of his sleeve, too nervous and overwhelmed to meet the wolverine’s intense gaze.
your hand moves towards his again, lightly tracing the outlines of his veins. you muster up the courage to look back up at logan, who somehow moved even closer to you in the 15 seconds you’ve spent fixated on his flannel. the soft glow of the tea lights illuminated the amber flecks of his irises, highlighted the structure of his nose, the curve of his muscles. made him look like something out of a dream. it sure felt like you were in one.
when his hand clasps around yours, you realize that this isn’t a dream. it’s your reality, and you better take advantage of it.
you let ten words convey everything.
“i’m really glad the person who did it was you.”
that’s all logan needs to hear before he decides he can’t hold back any longer. his lips find yours with a tender urgency, like he wanted to savor the moment and devour you whole all at once. the hand that was once on the couch moved to cradle your jaw, just about entirely encompassing the side of your head.
that place of wondering was correct in its predictions. despite all of his rough edges and gruffness, logan’s lips were softer than you ever could’ve imagined. your hands find purchase in the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, your bodies smushed together on the couch. logan wants nothing more than to pull you onto his lap, but he knows that’s more than likely to lead to some rather ungentlemanly activities. no, he wants to do this properly, take things nice and slow. so he settles for keeping his hands above the collar, and from the soft sighs he can hear you let out, it seems to be doing the trick.
it feels like you’re on cloud 9 as your lips move together, your disappointment of today’s plans long forgotten. all you could focus on was how perfect this moment was, how perfect logan felt. his thumb teases the corner of your mouth, a silent command that he wants to explore you further and you open yourself up with ease. his tongue prods between your lips gently, a contrast to the feeling of his calloused palm against your skin.
you move slow and syrupy, not wanting time to pass. if your mutation was time manipulation, you surely would’ve halted it, letting yourself stay in this little bubble of bliss for as long as you wanted.
but of course, all good things must come to an end. because as much as your brain had turned to jelly for the time being, the tiny functioning part that was left blossomed a new worry.
logan fears he’s done something wrong when you pull back quick and unexpectedly, your eyes wide with something he can’t quite place.
“everything okay?” he asks cautiously, frozen in position. the answer you provide is far from what he had in mind.
“i don’t want you to get sick,” you mutter, clasping a hand over your mouth. the fact that that’s what you’re worried about right now, makes logan’s heart flutter a little, as silly as it was.
all of his anxieties fade in an instant, amusement taking its place instead. logan barks out a laugh, probably one of the most sincere sounding ones you’ve ever heard from him.
“what’s so funny?” you ask, confused as to why he’d be laughing when you were dead serious. the saliva swap that just transpired was sure to pass along whatever germs your body was still harboring. the last thing you wanted was for logan to feel as shitty as you felt this morning.
“honey,” he cuts through his laughter, clutching at his sides. “i don’t get sick.”
“what do you mean, ‘you don’t get sick’?”
“regeneration,” he states matter of factly, calming down a bit. “anything that could harm my body, my mutation takes care of.”
right.
for what feels like the millionth time today, you blush. not in flattery, but in embarrassment. you hide your face behind your hands, cursing yourself for halting a damn good makeout.
“i’m such an idiot,” you mumble into your palms. “i cannot believe i just ruined the moment like that.”
“hey, hey,” logan coos, gingerly pulling your hands away from your face. your eyes are still screwed shut, not wanting to face any more ridicule than necessary, even if it was only playful. the feeling of logan’s thumb and forefinger lightly grasping at your chin causes your eyelids to flutter.
“look at me.”
slowly, you open your eyes. logan’s grip on your chin is firm but gentle. it’s to keep you from running from him, forcing you to be on the same level.
“you didn’t ruin anything,” he tells you in the most caring tone of of voice.
“promise?”
logan leans in and gives you a long, lingering kiss. it’s somehow even more maddening than the first one, and your stomach feels like it’s on a rollercoaster you’re not sure you ever want to get off of.
when he pulls away, he shoots you a wink, and you fight the urge to melt on the spot.
“promise.”
he presses airy little kisses to both of your cheeks before settling back against the couch.
“now, where were we?”
you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, watching closely as logan’s eyes lingered on your mouth again. in a flirty move, you tease him by moving in impossibly close, your lips barely a centimeter apart. just as he’s about to close the gap, your press your pointer finger to his mouth, catching him by surprise.
“i think it’s time for another movie,” you sing song, prancing off the couch and in the direction of the dvd player.
you tease.
logan simply shakes his head, beaming at you as you scan over your movie selection. he’s come to know and notice a lot of things about you. the way your nose wrinkles when you get excited. how you take your coffee. the thing you do with your hands when you get nervous. your pet peeves. he finds something new to admire about you every day. right now he’s soaking in the joy that radiates off you in bright yellow waves, unavoidable to those in your orbit.
in that moment, logan decides he always wants to be in the path of their warmth.
when you pad back over to the couch as the opening credits start, you tuck yourself into his side. logan’s arm pulls you close, anchoring you to him in more ways than one. you fit together like puzzle pieces, soon to be inseparable now that you knew just how well you connected.
in the glow of the television and the tea lights, snug by his side, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.
maybe halloween wasn’t so bad after all.
thanks for reading! <3
bat divider by @saradika-graphics
#logan howlett x reader#retrosabers#sid writes shit#logan howlett fic#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine fic#wolverine#xmen#marvel#hugh jackman#halloween#halloween 2024#kinktober#kinktober 2024
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Hmmmm. New infection: Blurr/Swerve
Your writing has radioactive qualities but in a comic book super powers granting kind of way.
Merry Christmas from me to you.
———————————————————————
There was single spark of Christmas in the deepest dark of space. Far, far from the warm fire of Earth.
With the sort of warmth reserved for children’s holiday specials, Swerve and Jazz exchanged small improvised gifts.
Prowl also participated, with all the stone cold concentration of a bomb defusal.
Turns out, there was a decent amount of dropped shanix down various vents that Jazz had gotten a hold of. Swerve helped him pick up a gift for Prowl the next time they stopped at a trade depot. It was some of the most fun he’d had since waking up.
Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.
Never, never, never again.
Later, Swerve would watch as Jazz helped Prowl loop a striped scarf over his shoulders and across one half of a chevron, laughing and smiling all the while.
Swerve wasn’t jealous. No no no. He really was happy for them! He was! And maybe a little sad.
Prowl nodded at something Jazz said and took his leave to head back to his, their hab suite. Jazz jogged over to where Swerve had been slowly been drilling a pen into the drawing pad Jazz gotten for him.
“So you going to go see them?”
Swerve abruptly dropped the pen and flattened a hand over the sketch he’d definitely not made of the person he totally wasn’t thinking about.
“Whaaaat? No, no I’m sure they’re fine. Not! That I was still thinking about him! THEM.”Swerves optics darted rapidly from Jazz to the drawing, making sure any evidence was fully concealed.
“Besides, I’m not gonna leave you alone on Christmas Eve.” He said a bit more seriously, remembering Jazz’s current isolation. Unlike him, Swerve could visit Earth whenever wanted.
“Actually, Prowl was talking about some silent holovid earlier, so we were going to watch it tonight. It’s cool man, go check on your boo.”
Jazz looked, well, happy. And his field (wow, Swerve was still mind blown that humans had those the entire time) reflected that.
Swerve did a poor imitation of nonchalance. “I mean, only if you’re totally sure.”
Jazz put his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet a little, “Hmmm, you could always join Prowl and I for the holovid. You know, the one we’re gonna watch together? Inside his room?”
HA!
Hahahahhaha!
Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl.
The Christmas Shopping was enough.
With Jazz’s blessing, and Prowl’s glaring, seriously he could feel it through the wall, Swerve wished them a Merry Christmas and went to his room. Just a little bit quicker than necessary.
———————————————
Blurr’s hospital was one of those really fancy ones that looked more like a hotel room from the right angles.
There were simple decorations, extra furniture like a nightstand and a small couch, as well as fairly thick curtains framing a large clear window.
Christmas lights were strung up outside, adding to the ambient glow of the city lit up below. Snowflakes drifting through the air fuzzed the details. Made everything a little soft.
Swerve zeroed in on closing the curtains out of habit.
“Leave th-“
Swerve shrieked, nearly clipping through a wall with how hard he jumped.
Lying on his good side on the couch, Blurr merely blinked at him slowly before finishing his sentence.
“Leave the curtains open, please.” He pulled a blanket that didn’t look thick enough a little more securely over his shoulder.
Blurr didn’t resume looking at the falling snow, instead he took Swerve in with a half lidded eye.
“So are you my ghost of Christmas past, present or future?”
Swerve was uncomfortably reminded of how he looked at the moment. Colorless, grainy and mostly transparent. Slowly, he turned up the sliders on his holoform. “Heh, uh, option D? None of the above?”
Blurr didn’t have an IV in, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still on some other form of painkillers. Either way, he seemed a little more aware than what Swerve was prepared to deal with.
So why was he moving to get Blurr a better blanket?
Eh, he probably won’t remember this, but his recovery will. Swerve rationalized. He thinks I’m a Christmas ghost anyways, it’s just a dream to him.
When Swerve was almost out of sight, he was stopped by a small, “Stay?”
Swerve stayed.
He shuffled where he stood, Blurr continued to look at him. Slowly, the former racer tried to sit up.
Swerve was there right away, moving softly as he helped him up. In order to support Blurrs weight as best as possible, Swerve ended up sitting halfway onto the couch where Blurr had been laying.
Blurr placed a hand on his arm for support, and when he was most of the way upright, Swerve felt him sigh and rest all of his weight onto his holoform.
Comfortable.
Trapping him.
Holoforms can’t explode right?
Swerve was living both his greatest fanfic dream as well as his second greatest real life nightmare. He really, really hoped holoforms couldn’t explode. Fuck knows he’d put this poor man through enough.
How many layers of guilt were there again? There’s the initial parasocial idolization thing. There was the time Blurr saw all of his destroyed merchandise. So he thinks Swerve hates him. Did. He did actually hate him. Not really, but he wanted to. Oh and then Swerve left him for dead! Because he treated him like he wasn’t an actual living person who could feel fear! Or pain! Or. . . Alone.
On Christmas.
Swerve got a little more settled onto the couch, letting Blurr use him as his personal cushion a bit more comfortably. Leaning his head on his shoulder, Blurr was watching the snow again.
“When I was a child, I spent every Christmas at a ski lodge to the north” Blurr spoke quietly enough that the silence stayed resilient.
“I’d stay up late, watching the snow drift down through the mountain lights for hours. It felt a lot like this.” Blurr’s eye was fluttering more and more the longer he spoke. Each time it closed, Swerve could see the effort it took to open again.
Blurr, readjusted his body one last time me. Then mumbled. “You’re very warm for a ghost.”
Swerve, desperately, wished he could remember a single smart thing he’d ever written. “I got a slider for that.”
Swerve was going to find the self destruct button.
Blurr snorted a genuine single laugh. His eye had closed and he’d stopped fighting. Gradually, Swerve felt him breath a little slower, sinking into him and the couch. Swerve held still, until all the screaming, embarrassing panic in his mind resolved into white noise.
Swerve stayed for as long as he could. And when his time was almost up, he carefully lowered Blurr back onto the couch. Getting him a thicker blanket, and a non-Swerve pillow, for Christmas.
———————————————————————
- SSTP
"Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.
Never, never, never again."
LMAO
"Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl."
AHAHAHAJFJGMGJGKRJ WHEEEEEEZE HELP
ANON. SSTP. DEAR. MY TREASURE. MY SWEET NUCLEAR POWER PLANT OF A WRITER. I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE THEM. BOTH JP AND BLURWERS. YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS TO BE THIS FUNNY AND CUTE /J
Also The scene with Blurr is just SO cozy auughhggj I wanna wrap them both in a blanket and send to the magic ski resort where nothing bad ever happens*
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hey how are youu? I’m new here and I’m completely in love with your work especially with the Barty’s ones! I wanted to request the prompt c 11 (you are okay) with the 4 (near death experience) and if you could make it like part of the series of where they bicker all the time it would be perfect! Anyways I really enjoy your writing and I love how you portray my man Barty🤍🫶🏼
hi there lovey! thank you so much for being here and for your sweet words<33 i combined this request with another i received, i hope that is okay
other request: i headcanon barty as a person who has attachment issues (on the ambivalent side), in the way he loves too much his friends and lovers but at the same time is afraid of intimacy bc he also struggles with showing affection in a non sexual way. so my idea is that (gn)reader and barty have an argument because of their insecurities about trust and commitment, but AFTER they've been avoiding the conversation for too long. it could end very much extremely bad or very good.
you can find the other fics for this specific au here and here
Prompts: C.11 "You're okay, you're okay" & 4. Near Death Experience
Words: 6k
Warnings: not proofread, gn!reader (no pronouns used), use of y/n, reader and barty both have mental breakdowns/spirals, attachment issues, miscommunication, "oh shit! love is scary but i do love you so what now" moments, near-fall on the ice, potions accident, choking in a non-sexual way, infirmary, language, talk of death, injured!reader, heavy hurt but heavy comfort, happy ending
this isn't fun anymore
Your relationship with Barty thus far had been interesting to say the least.
After endless bickering led to an impromptu kiss to shut him up in the library, which in turn led to a heavy make-out session in a nearby cot, which led to a “how does it feel to be my girlfriend?” “I wouldn’t know” “do you want to?” “sure” conversation in the Slytherin common room, you somehow wound up being in an established, committed relationship with one Barty Crouch Junior.
To your friends’ flabbergasted shock, and, quite frankly, your own surprise.
Even more surprisingly so, you loved it – which scared you to no end.
As the weeks began to stretch into months, you felt as if you were losing your footing more and more in your dynamic. What was once flirtatious and intense has now become almost intimate and close. It stills you in your movements as you try and find your bearing.
Who are you to Barty when you are not in the mood to quip? Or even talk at all? Who is Barty to you when you allow him to just be Barty and not sparring-partner Junior?
All good questions to ask oneself, but not as productive to spiral over as you walk with him from Hogsmeade, a little stretch behind your boisterous friends.
There are two reasons for this. One is that Barty has somehow learned to read your emotions fairly well despite your inability to communicate them effectively, and he is now scrutinising your distracted facial expressions. Second, and perhaps most importantly, is that it is winter in Scotland.
In your distracting spiral, you step on a snow that covered a perfectly polished sliver of ice, and your foot slips out from underneath you.
You barely managed to squeak out a shriek, scrambling to retract your hand from Barty’s to catch you as you fall, before one of his hands is around your waist and the other on the back of your neck, stabilising your neck. His wild eyes stare into yours, mild panic seeping away to make place for a wicked grin.
“Careful, Treasure. Falling for me already?”
You roll your eyes before you let out a breath of relief, hands clutching onto his form as he is still holding you up in his grasp.
“You wish, Junior,” you scoff at him, albeit with a smile.
“Every night, on every star.”
You let him place you onto your legs, arm circling around your waist as a remaining layer of protection. You shiver, brushing off imaginary pieces of snow from the fall that did not occur. In front of you, your shared friends had stopped upon hearing you yell.
“Y/N, you good?” Lily called, concern etched onto her face.
At the same time, Sirius, ever the supportive friend, yelled, “Did Barty finally kill you?”
“Oh yes, Big Black, I am incredibly dead,” you yell back as Barty roll his eyes at you both and mutters something about on the contrary.
Regulus, in turn, says something you can’t quite catch over the distance, but you suppose it has something to do with your nickname for Sirius and its insinuations. Little Black did not enjoy being referred to as such.
The group waits up for the two of you to catch up, Barty enjoying taking his time with a lazy stroll.
“You mind picking up the pace, Junior?” Sirius grumbles.
Unfortunately, that only further encourages Barty. “Why would I? Got a pretty damsel in distress on my arm and all the time in the world.”
You try and rip out of his arms at that, feigning offence at him, but he only holds you tighter. “How dare you. I am neither a damsel nor in distress–”
He cuts you off with a quick peck on your lips. “You are pretty though. Sorry, Treasure, had to shut the sod up somehow.”
You turn your head away from him with a shake, trying your hardest not to blush at his words or his actions. You bully Regulus too much for his blushing to commit such atrocities yourself. “Whatever you say, Junior, but you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“You don’t even live together,” Remus comments amusedly.
“Doesn’t matter; the sentiment still stands.”
James and Remus shake their heads at the two of you, while Sirius and Lily nod solemnly in support of you. The whole lot begins walking back the short distance to the castle.
Barty makes a comment of some sort to Regulus that both Black brothers and James quip back at, which starts another tireless spat. You are too zoned out to care what they are bickering about today, disappearing back into your thoughts recklessly, despite the dire consequences from last time.
Attachment issues was such a loaded term, you thought, and you didn’t like to think of yourself like that. Yet the fact remained that the longer you and Barty spent together, the more a part of your brain begins dry heaving and screaming. What began as pure fun, tingles along your spine at every back-and-forth, is becoming realer by the minute, and it terrifies you. Not because you cannot stand a relationship or fear being bound down – because you are starting to care for him. Genuinely, wholly, in a way that aches. You have always been one to shy away from emotional aches, and the fact that you now have to decide whether to withstand it or throw it away for another type of pain makes you lightheaded.
With his arm so securely around yours, with his laughter in your ear, you feel right. You feel content and whole. Why should that make sirens go off in your head?
Most of the time you spend with Barty is with others around, where you can’t fully access your emotions. In the Great Hall, if you eat by yourselves, everyone else is still there, when you walk the hallways or the grounds, there are always students and professors around. Even when you visit his dorm, which is becoming more frequent by the second, Evan and Regulus usually aren’t far. You almost wanted to keep it this way, ensure that Barty only sees the fun and open side of you, keeping everything else under lock and key. You almost avoid him when you are able to be alone just the two of you, because the implications are too vast for you to face them.
He has to know. He has to have seen. Have noticed that you keep pushing one front of you towards him and shielding the rest – and it seems like he enjoys that one, but at some point he must want more. Could you give it to him?
“Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours?” Barty’s whisper cuts through your thoughts as you step through the entrances to the castle, once more slightly secluded at the back of the group.
You merely hum in response, trying to pull yourself out of your spiral to look at him.
“C’mon, Treasure.” His drawl is teasing, but his eyes seem darker than usual. “You have never gone this long without insulting me somehow. What's up?”
“Maybe you’ve just been on your best behaviour today,” you say conspiratorially, putting on your mask expertly. “Haven’t needed to.”
“Now see, that is simply empirically wrong,” Barty guffaws at you. “Did you hear what I said to Reg earlier?” His raised eyebrow is giving you a silent cut the crap that you aren’t ready to face.
“I’ll be honest with you; I did not.” You look away, pulling your jacket further around you. “I’m just mentally preparing for Potions and Slughorn tomorrow, he said we should expect something big.”
“Should I be concerned that lying comes that easily to my girlfriend?” Barty asks, making you whip your head back to him. He is still teasing, but you really, really don’t like the look in his eyes.
“Should I be concerned that my boyfriend can’t take the hint to let something be?” You didn’t think about the words before you let them tumble, instantly getting defensive.
“No,” Barty says, stopping you with the hand on your waist, looking directly at you. “‘Cause I’m just checking on you when something is clearly wrong.”
“Since when do you check on me?” you say, realising your voice is uncomfortably close to a snarl. Barty does, too.
“Since you decided to take me up on my relentless flirting and enter into a relationship with me. You know, the kind where people care for and look after each other? Or is that not us?”
You stare at him for a second, as it uncomfortably settles into your bones that the odd look in his eyes is hurt. Confusion, concern and hurt. You’re at a loss for words.
“I don’t know what to say to that,” you settle on, feeling dumb but stubborn.
Barty nods, looking away at last, small frown over his lips. “Well. Let me know when you do. Or don’t, you know, it’s whatever.”
He walks away from you, leaving you to stand alone, looking after him. If your friends realised you’re gone, they have likely assumed that the two of you are in some hallway together making-out. No one would come check up on you.
You trek back and sit down, just outside the entrance to the castle, trying to understand what just happened. Sliding down the wall, you watch as new snow begins to fall, large wet chunks flying through the air. You let them symbolically represent your tears as you keep bottling it all up.
That night, you go to your dorm in silence, telling yourself you’re thankful not to see Barty on the way there. You fall asleep watching the door.
Truth is, you had also been stressed out regarding Slughorn’s Potions class for the day after. As you wake and get ready, anxiety rages through your body for more reasons than one. He had been teasing the class for weeks, saying that you would be brewing some dangerous, difficult potion, allowed into the curriculum as a one-time exception for him.
Technically, this would have been no problem, however you are currently paired with McLaggen in Potions. The biggest twat I have ever seen, as Barty described him. While you didn’t have as intense feelings about him, you knew one thing for certain: the boy was absolute shit at potions.
The kind of awful that you really don’t want to be paired with for some exotic and dangerous potion.
Potions was one of the few classes you and Barty had together as your subject selections were relatively different. He would always walk you from your dorm, first class in the morning, soaking up every minute with you. Some of your best banter came from Potions class, often at McLaggen’s expense, for better or worse.
When you opened your door, you were not entirely sure what to expect.
What you found, certainly was not it, though.
“Regulus, what– what are you doing here?”
Regulus looked incredibly sheepish where he stood, weight leaned on one of his hips as one hand scratched the back of his neck. The other held something in it that you couldn’t quite detect as you took the awkward scene of him in.
“I, uh,” he starts, uncharacteristically inarticulate. “Barty said he couldn’t walk you today, but wanted to give you something for, um, your anxiety? About the class? Or something like that. Anyway, here.”
The tips of his ears were burning red at the humiliation of being caught in the middle of whatever this was. He reached out his hand and opened it to reveal a small potions bottle – ironic – with some purple liquid inside.
“What is it?” you asked, taking it tentatively and turning it over in your hands.
“It’s meant to make you calm down and relax– not that I think you need to do that, just, Barty wanted to give it to you.” Regulus winces at his own inelegance. “I got some from James the other week, he apparently has a bunch stacked up in his dorm with the boys, for God knows what reason. Barty asked for one for you. So, here we are.”
“I don’t really know what to say,” you trail off, looking between the potion and Regulus. “Thanks?”
“I, uh, will tell him that then–”
“Gods, no,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell him that, he wouldn’t appreciate it.”
As you seem to be thinking over a response, Regulus adds: “If it makes a difference, he said something to me about giving it to you on the off-chance that he was wrong and a massive wanker.”
You chuckle at that. “Well, he’s always a massive wanker,” you joke on reflex. “But you don’t need to act as an owl, Reg, I’ll thank him myself. And thank you for the potion.”
Regulus seems to let out a breath of relief at that, smiling a bit more comfortably at last. “Great, well, I’ll see you around I guess.”
You smile curtly and give him a quick nod before seeing him all but run off.
Once he’s gone, you drink the potion and the effects are instantaneous. Your shoulders seem to loosen in places you didn’t know they were wound up, your breathing regulates and your heartbeat slows. A little too late, you mull over that this was James’s potion, and you probably should have been careful, given his track record in class. Nevertheless, the potion seems legitimate.
With a bit more breath in your lungs, you walk off to class, alone.
Barty could not make up his mind on whether to drag his gaze away from you when it instantly gravitated towards you, or if he could let it linger.
The feelings warring in his chest felt impossible to map out. On the one hand, you had snapped at him when he tried to help, which was shitty – on the other, he still didn’t know what he was trying to help with or what compelled you to snap at him. What you were going through. Which honestly is on you, he thought, wincing at his own frustrations.
He was not one to dwell on small spats, but this was entirely unfamiliar territory to him. Barty didn’t do relationships, at least he didn’t think so before you came in like a freight train consuming his being. It was fun to finally have someone properly challenge him and do so with a beautiful smile on their face – the perfect situation for him. It was fun, until his heart began to hurt when you weren’t near, until it was your laugh that ran through his head, guiding him away from a spiral. Until he realised he was not just down bad for you as Dorcas teased, he was something much, much worse.
And he had no idea how to handle it.
His infatuation with you was all-encompassing, a burning passion and loyalty that characterised having Barty’s affection. He knew it, as did all his friends, but when it is with you, he doesn’t know how to handle it. With a friend, he could snog, even shag, them at a random party and it wouldn’t matter for either of them. With you, that first kiss, first anything, was so much more important. With a friend, if he pissed them off enough, they would just cool off without him for a while and then the slate was clear. With you – he had no idea what he would do if you disappeared. Would you come back? He was acutely aware that this was a dynamic he didn’t know how to explore.
Now, it seemed like you needed his support, but wouldn’t accept it. Didn’t want him near it.
He had to respect that, he thought to himself. So, he did his best to tear his gaze away and leave you be.
With the amount of times your eyes met, he knew he wasn’t being successful. He paid no mind to the fact that you did not avert your eyes, either.
His feet were tapping relentlessly on the ground, his eyes flicking all over the Potions classroom to keep them from you. Barty was losing his fucking mind and he had no idea what to do about it.
“Mate,” Evan cuts off his distracted mental monologue that Barty himself couldn’t really make sense of. “Would you bloody cut it off? I’m trying to not kill us here.”
Barty does not dignify him with a response, but tries to calm his skittishness, albeit not overly successfully. He zeroes in on Slughorn and his peculiar facial expressions as he, a bit too excitedly for 8 in the morning, continues his explanation.
Something about a healing potion that is so particular that if brewed even slightly wrong, it becomes one of the most effective poisons in the world. Something about corrosive to the touch. Something about bezoars healing.
Barty settles his gaze on the bowl of bezoars Slughorn had on his desk, just in case, with a bad feeling in his stomach. He wondered if you felt the same.
As the pairs set to attempt the feat of making the potion correctly, Barty’s eyes drifted back to you, happy to leave the work to Evan – who in turn was happy to work in the silence without his constant chatter.
Your shoulders were relaxed, though your brows were furrowed together as you reread the instructions for the thousandth time. He wondered if you had taken the potion he sent to you with Regulus, he wondered if it helped you. While he knew in his bones you were lying about it being what bothered you, he still could never be too sure. He wanted you to feel safe, whichever way he could ensure it.
He knows what that’s called, which is why he is freaking out so to speak.
You kept shooting dirty looks at McLaggen whenever he tried to help, keeping him at arm’s length from the potion, fueling the boy’s frustrations. Barty was quite certain he had seen you threaten him with your wand at one point when he tried to stir the potion. He couldn’t blame you.
McLaggen, as incompetent as ever, was trying to make himself useful by reading the instructions aloud to you, though his exaggerated enunciation was more distracting than helpful. Barty withholds a snicker as he can tell you are silently begging him to shut up. The frustration on your face was palpable, the tension between you and your partner practically humming in the air. McLaggen, ever oblivious, didn’t take the hint.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to–?”
“I’m sure,” you snapped, not looking up from the cauldron.
From across the room, you felt Barty’s eyes on you again. His gaze had become a constant presence, burning into your skin. Even when you weren't looking at him, you could feel him there, lingering, watching, waiting. It was maddening, but also strangely comforting. You knew you had to talk together soon, but you still had no idea how to communicate your feelings, if you even dared to.
You had to snap yourself back into it to remain in control of your little situation at hand.
McLaggen, frustrated by being sidelined, huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s just stirring! How hard could it be?”
“Apparently, harder than you think,” you muttered, casting him a side-eye. The potion was already starting to smell off, and you knew he had messed it up.
McLaggen’s face flushed in embarrassment, and before you could stop him, he reached for the ladle, his ego clearly bruised.
"I'll show you–"
“Wait–”
It happened in a blur. His hand snuck past yours, clumsy and wild. It knocked against the cauldron’s edge, sending it tipping over. The thick, boiling liquid surged out, splashing across the table – and onto your leg.
The pain was instant, white-hot and searing, like your skin was being eaten alive. You screamed, recoiling as the potion sizzled straight through your pant leg, immediately finding flesh.
The room seemed to freeze for a moment, everyone turning to see what had happened. The smell of burning skin filled the air as you stumbled back, falling over your increasingly immobile leg, eyes wide with shock and pain.
The world around disappeared from you as you were consumed by the burning, not even able to hear your gasps of pain.
For that moment, no one did anything.
No one but Barty – Barty moved.
Without hesitation, without thought, he lunged across the room. He grabbed the entire bowl of bezoars, eyes never leaving you. His body collided with McLaggen, shoving him aside with a force that sent the boy slamming into the wall behind, just barely avoiding the poison himself. Barty didn’t even glance at him; his focus was solely on you.
Somewhere in the back Slughorn made a sound of shock and disappointment that Barty blocked out.
He dropped down beside you, taking your shaking upper body in his arms. "You're okay, you're okay," he muttered in your ear, as he cradled your jaw with one hand and opened your mouth with another. With two quick, precise fingers he shoved the bezoar as far down your throat as he could, arm circled securely around your waist for when your body convulsed in response to the intrusion. "You're okay, I've got you," he continued to mumble, as if to himself this time, as he looked at you frantically.
Your body's trembling and your small gasps of pain faded, but your leg was still searing painfully and you still looked completely out of it.
Barty’s heart lurched – he had never seen you like this. Never seen you so vulnerable, so hurt.
“Barty–” you gasped, your voice breaking in panic.
The classroom had erupted into chaos around you – students scrambling away from the spill, Slughorn’s booming voice calling for calm. In it all, Barty's eyes kept looking you over, almost like he was itching to give you another bezoar just in case.
“You’re okay,” he repeated, quieter this time, his voice cracking ever so slightly.
Your breath came out in ragged gasps, the pain subsiding slowly. Barty's hands remained around you, grounding you essentially in his lap, keeping you tethered to the moment.
“Someone fetch Madam Pomfrey!” Slughorn’s booming voice cut through the heavy air as he rushed over, his face pale with panic. “Quickly now! That potion– oh dear–"
McLaggen stood behind him, mouth agape in shock and horror as almost all other students had lined up by the walls, putting distance between themselves and the potion. Everyone except Evan, who remained by his desk, grip tight on the wood as he looked in horror and concern.
Barty ignored him. He ignored everyone. His only focus was you – your shallow breathing, your wide, panicked eyes. He didn’t even realise that his hands were shaking until you whimpered softly, and he felt his control slipping further.
“I’m taking her to the infirmary,” Barty said through gritted teeth, not waiting for permission.
Barty scooped you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stood. The weight of you felt so fragile, so wrong. You were supposed to be strong, biting back with sharp quips and rolling your eyes at his antics. Not this. Not in pain and trembling in his arms.
“Now, now, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey can come here–”
“No,” Barty said, his voice dark and dangerous, leaving no room for argument. “I’m taking her.”
“Mr. Crouch– wait! We should–” Slughorn tried again, but Barty was already moving, carrying you through the rows of desks and out the door.
His steps were quick but measured, and you were too disoriented by the pain and the shock to protest. Your head rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart the only thing anchoring you to reality.
“Hang on, Treasure,” he murmured, his voice rough and shaky. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be alright.”
You weren’t sure when you closed your eyes, but by the time you tried to open them again, you were in the infirmary.
Your mind was swimming through a haze of pain and exhaustion. The world felt heavy around you, like you were dragging yourself up through thick water. At first, you weren’t sure where you were – the sterile smell of potions and the soft rustling of sheets felt foreign, disconnected.
Then you shifted ever so slightly and the sharp sting in your leg brought it all crashing back.
The classroom. The potion. McLaggen’s bloody idiocy. The burning, searing pain as the liquid had spilled across your skin.
Barty.
Barty was sitting at your bedside, his usual composed demeanour shattered. His shoulders were hunched, his face tight with worry, and there was a wildness in his eyes that you had never seen before. The sight of him like that sent a pang of emotion through you, more potent than the lingering sting of the potion burn.
You swallowed thickly, your throat dry. “Barty…” Your voice came out in a cracked whisper.
His head jerked up, his eyes locking onto yours in an instant. For a second, the relief that washed over his face was so overwhelming that it almost broke you. He moved closer, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached out for your hand, stopping just before touching you, as if he wasn’t sure if he should. If he could.
“You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of how you were feeling. “Are you… does it hurt? Are you in pain?”
You blinked up at him, your mind still foggy as the events of the day came rushing back in fragments. You remembered the burning pain, the panic that had clawed at your chest, and – Barty. Barty holding you, his voice in your ear, telling you that you’d be okay.
And now here he was, sitting beside you, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you but holding back as if afraid he might break you further.
"I–" you tried, but your voice cut off, throat hoarse from the bezoar you were increasingly remembering. "I think I'm fine."
Barty just looked at you, still searching, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. What an unfortunate theme for the week.
“It’s… it’s not as bad now,” you managed, your voice hoarse. The burning in your arm was still there, a dull throb beneath the bandages, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. “What happened? After… I don’t know if I really remember…”
Barty swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he fought to maintain his composure. “Pomfrey patched you up. You passed out from the pain.” He paused, his voice thickening. “It was bad. You could’ve–”
He cut himself off, his fingers curling into fists as he looked away, his throat working visibly. “It was a close call, Treasure.”
At his words, you realise how hard you were fighting the tears, the bottle you keep your emotions in clearly shattered by your impact with the floor.
"I'm alright," you whispered, to which he just nodded, beautiful face stained by a frown. Yeah, yeah, you thought you could hear him mutter.
"Barty?" you called softly, hoping for his attentive eyes to be back on you – they were in an instant. "Thank you."
"I would do anything for you," he whispered. "I just need you to be alright. I'm so sorry."
"For what?" Your eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. "You did nothing wrong Barty. You– you did so good."
Barty leans his head on his fists curled up on your bedside. He was still slightly trembling. "I thought I lost you."
His words hit you like a physical blow. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the crack in his usually cool exterior, and it made your chest tighten with emotion. He wasn’t just worried – he had been terrified. You could see it in the way he refused to meet your eyes now, as if he was still trying to gather himself, still fighting the lingering fear.
Your heart twisted painfully at the sight of him like this, so undone, so vulnerable. It was strange when he was always the one so sure of himself, always the one in control. His usual composed mask had crumbled, leaving raw emotion exposed underneath. You wanted to kiss it better. You wanted to see more.
It was strange, you thought, lying there in the infirmary with a dull ache all throughout your body. Strange how, in moments like these, everything else – the fear, the confusion, the uncertainty – seemed to fall away. All that was left was Barty, his presence consuming every inch of your awareness.
"Barty..." you whispered again. When he looked up at you, his eyes were red-rimmed.
You simply turned your hand laying near his over. An open invitation.
He accepted it immediately, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand so sweetly it hurt you.
"I thought–" you start, voice breaking from emotion this time. "When it happened, all I could think about was you. How sweet you are with me even when I'm terrible, how stupid it is to let my emotions get in the way of that. I didn't even get to say sorry to you and–" You take a deep breath. "I wanted to. I'm sorry, Barty."
He was shaking his head, cheek against your hand he was holding as it looked at you intensely. "Absolutely not. Apology accepted and then rejected. I don't want you to be sorry."
You try to interject, but he sits up, leaning on his elbow onto your bedside so you are at eye-level. "Nuh-uh. I won't allow it. Thank you, and I'm sorry too, but no."
"Will you at least accept the sentiment that I never meant to hurt you?" you whisper through a tired smile.
"Of course. I hurt myself. I was confused and scared and– shit, this feeling thing is so bloody hard for no reason." You laugh slightly at that, wincing when it pains you. "I hated feeling like we weren't a team."
"Me too," you whispered, not trusting your voice. "I didn't want to fight, I just find it so difficult to trust. That I can, I don't know, show you everything and not run. Because I don't know what to do with myself if you do."
Barty's grip on your hand tightened. "I won't. I swear to you, I won't. That's what scares the shit out of me. How ridiculously much I care about you. What am I to do with that?"
A few tears spilled down your cheeks before you could stop it. His hand instinctively shot forward to wipe them away, frown deepening.
"Can we be scared and confused together?" you asked weakly.
For the first time since you woke up, you saw a smile grace Barty's face, clouded only slightly by his teary eyes. "I reckon we can, Treasure. I– I just need you."
You closed your eyes, triggering the release of a few more tears.
"You'll never lose me," Barty continued, pressing his forehead back against your intertwined hands. "I swear. I don't care what fight we have or how unsure we are. You're the only person who–" He stopped, his breathing hitching as if the words were too heavy on his vocal chords. "I need you."
Your heart clenched painfully at the raw emotion in his voice. The cool, confident Barty you were used to wasn’t here right now. This was a Barty who was terrified and loving, who was stripped bare of all the usual bravado and snark. It made your chest ache in a way that was so full of feeling that it was almost overwhelming.
“I need you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He lifted his head slowly, his eyes locking onto yours again. There was something so vulnerable, so intense in his gaze that it nearly stole your breath away. He leaned forward then, hesitating only for a moment before his lips brushed gently against your forehead, lingering there as if he was grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality that you were still here.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured against your skin. “I promise.”
For a moment, the weight of those words hung in the air, settling into the space between you. And despite the pain, despite everything that had happened, you felt a small flicker of warmth spark in your chest.
You brought your free hand up to the nape of his neck, guiding his lips from your forehead to your own, kissing him as softly as you could muster. His kiss was careful as he tried to pour as much emotion as possible. All the things you could not say yet, but cared for each other in spite of.
When you parted, you rested your foreheads together and you let out a shaky breath, your heart slowing as the adrenaline finally began to fade.
You opened your eyes to find Barty already looking at you with a slight smile – the look in his eyes was positively lovesick.
With the ease Barty's touch awarded you, you let out a half-choked laugh, relief expanding in your chest, which in turn widened his smile.
"What's so funny?" he asked, a teasing tone finally making it back into his voice.
"I'm just thinking about how ridiculous we are," you laughed, squeezing his hand. "And dramatic, Merlin's beard."
Barty huffed a laugh in return, shaking his head at you. "You knew what you were signing up for when you got with me. Theatrical is my middle name."
"Oh, so you admit it now, do you?"
"Only for you."
You gaze into his eyes and you realise – Barty is not the only one who is lovesick.
"Tell me now," you said, teasing tone finally back in your voice. It made Barty's heart soar, but not as much as your next sentence. "How did you trick me into falling in love with you, Junior?"
"I trick you? Love, I've been heads over heels for you since the first time you insulted me. You're the one who should fess up."
Barty's grin threatened to tear his skin apart as he shook his head.
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely.” He shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that made your heart stutter. “You’re impossible not to fall for.”
“Good,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Because I think you're stuck with me now.”
Barty leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead, and when he pulled back, his eyes were alight with something that looked an awful lot like hope.
“Stuck, huh?”
You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t get cocky, Junior.”
“Too late, Treasure.”
“In that case," you started, trailing off as if you grew uncertain of yourself once more. Barty's hold on you remained steadfast. "Can you stay? Just stay here with me, until I'm dispatched?”
“I’m not leaving,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles in a steady, grounding rhythm. “I’ll stay as long as you want. You've got me.”
You felt yourself relax into the bed, your eyes growing heavy with exhaustion, but for the first time in a long while, the tightness in your chest had eased. As your eyes fluttered closed, you heard Barty’s voice again, soft and filled with so much emotion that it made your heart ache all over again.
“Sleep well, my love."
#barty crouch junior#barty crouch junior x reader#barty crouch junior x you#barty crouch junior x y/n#barty crouch jr x reader#barty crouch jr x you#barty crouch jr x y/n#barty crouch jr#barty crouch x reader#barty crouch#barty crouch x you#barty crouch x y/n#barty#barty x reader#barty x you#barty x y/n#barty crouch jr fluff#barty crouch jr angst#barty crouch jr self insert#barty crouch jr reader insert#marauders#marauders era#marauders era reader insert#marauders era fanfic#marauders x you#marauders x reader#marauders x y/n#the slytherin skittles#slytherin skittles#slytherin skittles x reader
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SUCH A SIMP
( The monegasque driver has no problem showing himself to be particularly affectionate with you )
warning : fluff, charles spamming you with messages (but it's cute)
note : race week again bby
word count : 2.2k
Oh. It's funny how the monegasque who seems so confident turns into a real man unable to breathe properly when he's away from you.
A young woman who has only just taken her first steps in the incredible world of F1. You were able to apply for the red team, the italian Ferrari team. A great and majestic racing team whose name demands respect and recognition, especially for Italians. And you had just joined these motorsport gods in F1.
Finally, you are not in charge of the most difficult and relentless job either. You were recruited as a new social media manager, certainly with a lot of tasks to carry out, but undoubtedly a little less important than those of the racing engineers and strategists. However, the media is a source of content that fans of the sport love and your ultimate goal is to create the best videos and content possible for Ferrari.
So little by little, you appeared in the Ferrari motorhome. Your colleagues were starting to remember your face and your name, and after a good three weeks on the job, a lot of things had radically changed.
Firstly, you had integrated well into the Italian team. Good relationships and understandings with your colleagues. And secondly, and not least, a new form... of friendship - if we could describe it that way - was formed between you and the famous Monegasque Ferrari driver. Charles Leclerc.
The young man found himself curious about you, interested in this young new woman of his age who, despite the difficulty of the work, completed the tasks required in no time, a fairly perfectionist quality. It must be said that we can clearly see that she really likes this job. And this had intrigued Charles, who often found himself looking for the young brunette.
With the support of his teammate Carlos, who pushed him to take the plunge to try to approach you, Charles ended up introducing himself to you - as if you didn't already know him in this environment. He approached with a shy, almost nervous smile, while he could not hide his completely admiring, almost affectionate look. He struggled to form his sentences, far too dazzled by your sublime beauty and presence.
You seemed quite shy and reserved at first, and that was the case in everyday life. But that's what made you so charming, and Charles felt his heart beat harder and harder every time he managed to make you smile or laugh, a blush that appeared on your face and that he loved more and more.
You blink suddenly, as you start walking with your shoulders straight again in the paddock. You were so lost in your thoughts, remembering how this friendship between you and the driver had blossomed, that you hadn't noticed that the Ferrari motorhome was right in front of you.
The automatic doors open as you enter the small cube, shyly greeting the employees and your colleagues. “Hey, Y/n.” Carlos smiles at you kindly, happy to see you there. You hadn't set foot in the paddock for 2 weeks already, the team had offered you the opportunity to work remotely. You jumped at the opportunity, the chance to spend some time with your family during the week.
“How were your two weeks away from us? I bet you missed us” He winks at you, knowing deep down that a part of you was eager to get back to work there. "It was great. I got to enjoy a little bit with my family." You smile sincerely, remembering the activities you shared with your parents. “But it’s true that I missed working within the stable itself. And then, I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
Carlos' smirk is evident, his arms crossed over his chest as he smiles more and more. You raise your eyebrows slightly, intrigued by his reaction. "Is something wrong? Did I say something funny?" Finally, he chuckles weakly as he shakes his head. “I’m just thinking about how a certain man here was also very, very excited to see you again” He purses his lips, narrowing his eyes, leaning down to your ear so he can speak in a low voice.
“And although I really like you Y/n, that man isn’t me. Besides, I’m sure he’s currently complaining about how much he misses you.” He stands up straight and gives you another wink, followed by another smirk. You feel your cheeks heat up, blush violently. You try to look away, embarrassed.
You know very well who Carlos wants to talk about. You wanted to deny it, to tell yourself that it wasn't true and that it was only your conscience playing with you, but after Carlos' words, all these questions seem true. "Come on, go. You must have a lot of work, just like me. See you later, Y/n!" Carlos pats your shoulder as he walks further behind you.
You don't know how long you stood there in the middle of the motorhome floor, but long enough for you to think about what just happened. Carlos is always honest, and when he saw you in the presence of Charles, he did not hesitate to make some embarrassing remarks to you, like that the monegasque looked at you with hearts in his eyes or that he particularly liked to seek physical contact with you.
These remarks made you blush and Charles always seemed to become embarrassed, more shy than before as he begged Carlos to leave you alone. Because the Monegasque driver knows that his teammate is aware that he has a weakness for you. More than a weakling, he's literally a simp for you. But he really doesn't want you to know.
Or rather, he would like to but he's afraid of rushing you or of you not feeling the same way. After all, three weeks might be too early for you, but for Charles it was enough to make him completely lovesick for you.
You finally come to your senses, and after checking that your face is no longer completely red, you sit comfortably on the chair in your office. You finally got to work, responding to the last email you missed. A notification vibrated your phone, and glancing at the screen, you saw Charles' name.
You really wanted to continue working seriously, you had promised yourself to get back to work but the notification and the message from Charles were running through your head. So, despite yourself, you grab your phone and open your messages to click on the driver's message. Your gaze softens as you read it, your heart racing.
Charles Lec
I heard you finally arrived to the circuit. can't wait to see you again, miss you y/n :(
see you at the 11 o'clock meeting
The message makes you blush again, more lightly this time. But just with a simple message, Charles knows how to make your heart beat and put you in all your moods. He is charming, funny, and caring. Of course you had to fall in love with him. And Carlos' words said earlier secretly gave you hope. Hope for something deeper.
You were about to respond, but your eyes drifted to the messages he had sent you earlier in the month, specifically during your two weeks of remote working. And reading the messages, that's where Carlos' words took on their full meaning.
Charles Lec
07/06
i just learned that you are remote working, that's why I didn't find you at the paddock
i'm sad that you're not here but you also need to rest during these two weeks :(
miss u a lot
09/06
hello you ;) hope everything goes well.
i don't know if you saw the qualifying but I'm starting the race p11
the race will start soon, I hope you can still watch it
can't wait to see you again, gorgeous
still miss u
12/06
it's not race week but I would have liked to spend these few days with you but you work and you must surely enjoy your family
eat well and don't stay up too late, pretty girl
have a good day :))
14/06
i miss u y/n
i feel like it's been forever since I last saw you
I have already planned a few little things to do when you come back, call me back when you can :)
15/06
hello youu
In 1 week I'll see you again but I can't wait any longer
i think I'm gonna die if I don't talk to you right now
can i call u please? :(
16/06
i did a little workout today and I will continue next week
we see each other again in less than a week and all I can think about is that
take care sweetheart
miss you a lot lately :(
not just lately, miss u always, every single minute of the day
Everything seems to fit together like a puzzle. So Carlos was telling the truth, the man who is so eager to see you again is definitely Charles. Come to think of it, he texted you almost every day. To tell you how much he missed you and that he wanted to see you again, not forgetting to add a few pet names here and there.
This kind of revelation changes everything. Your feelings, the way you think and behave. You were still surprised at the idea that Charles could potentially love you the same way you love him. But there is no doubt about it, after everything that has just happened in a few minutes. And you didn't know if you were looking forward to going to the meeting or not.
But there you are, in front of the door to the small interview room. And as you enter, a little late, almost everyone is there. You can feel several eyes on you, but one is undeniable. Charles is there, sitting, his gaze completely glued to you, totally absorbed and attracted by you alone. He follows you with his eyes, completely in love, while your angelic beauty completely takes his breath away. Oh, he missed your face so much.
You move towards your chair, painfully avoiding meeting his burning gaze. But after all, it's impossible. Why would you want to avoid him, when he certainly feels the same way as you.
So, calmly, you sit down, you take your pen between your fingers, and taking a deep breath, you end up laying your eyes on him. You meet his gaze and there, time seems to stop for a moment. His eyes burn into your face, and your breath catches. But a shy smile, which ends up widening, takes its place on the driver's face. And, shyly, you smile back.
And during this meeting, you couldn't help but glance at each other a few times. And in Charles' head, everything was panicking. He wanted to hold you in his arms and never let go. He wanted to spend every next minute by your side, making you smile and laugh until you lost control. He wanted to stay for hours admiring you, listening to you speak with your sweet voice. He was finally able to live and breathe properly.
The meeting ends, you take a strangely long time to put away the few things you had brought with you. And Charles strangely seems to take care to say goodbye to each of the people who leave the room. So that in the end, you find yourself alone in the room. No one speaks, your gaze each focused on the corners of the room. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Charles finally approached you.
So close, that he ends up wrapping his arms around your waist, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. You practically melt in his embrace, as you return the favor, your hands gently caressing his back. “I missed you so, so much.” His voice is muffled. You giggle weakly, and just that little laugh melts Charles' heart.
"Carlos informed me that a certain person here was very eager to see me again, hmm?". Your shy nature wasn't the type to tease people, but seeing Charles like this made him absolutely adorable and you couldn't help but tease him a little. He groans, because he knows that as soon as he meets Carlos again, he will make him understand that he, on the contrary, will never look forward to seeing him again. But for now, he's just enjoying the moment.
"If it's to be able to stay in your arms like this, then yes I assume that this person is me. And now that you are here, you are certainly not going to leave me." And in an overconfidence, he pulls back just enough to place a soft, long kiss on your cheek, while his hands gently squeeze your hips. The sudden touch makes you jump slightly, and your face doesn't fail to show your embarrassment as it turns a pretty pink.
Which absolutely makes Charles laugh, totally captivated by you. But he absolutely didn't expect you to kiss him back, on his cheek already crimson from the contact of your lips on his skin. The room is suddenly filled with giggles, while the two secret lovers, or rather the two idiots in love who see their relationship blossom into something more beautiful, remain there for a while longer, in each other's arms.
And Carlos, who wanted to make his way into the room to collect his Ferrari cap, had observed everything from the doorway. A huge grin on his face, he finally rolled his eyes, amused. “Such a simp.” He whispers these words, which, without a doubt, perfectly reflect reality. Because yes, Charles is just a simp for you.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine
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Home video
Oneshot
Yandere Ceo x GN Reader
CW: NSFW, Dubious consent of sending nudes, masturbation and anal fingering
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
Esteban was trapped in a loop. Sitting at his desk, he tried to the best of his abilities to be productive, but quickly the thought of you filled his every thought. So he would take his phone once again, his finger looming over your name in his contact list. Each time, his conscience ended up taking over and he would throw his phone as far as possible on his desk, as if he had been suddenly electrocuted.
He had promised to stop calling or texting you every chance he got. He wanted to prove that he was putting in a lot of effort to get better. So, after dropping the source of his internal torment, the man tried to focus again on his computer, only for the cycle to continue.
***
He was so proud of himself as he got home that night. He did it! He succeeded in not compulsively contacting you! Esteban could already hear all the praises and words of encouragement you will give him for being such a good boy.
He waited and waited. The more time passed by the more his excited expression morphed his face into a worried one. You usually answered his text around this hour, so what was taking you so long?!
***
You felt bad. You truly did.
You knew that Esteban was working really hard to control his clingy and obsessive attitude towards you. So you felt your heart dropped when you realized you didn’t respond to his text at the end of your shift. But guilt quickly turned into curiosity when you saw that he had sent you a video one hour after you didn’t respond to his initial message. It had been sent fairly recently and under it was written “Ready for round 2?”.
The thumbnail was already giving away the content of the recording, even if you try to convince yourself that it couldn’t be that. On it was Esteban, shirtless with his arms out of view of the camera, probably to put it in place. You hesitantly pressed the play button after sitting down on the couch.
There were some movements paired with slight zooms before he seemed happy with his setup. Esteban walked away from the camera to get into the frame. Lowering his head onto the bed, he arched his back and spread his leg open. His movements were way too deliberate and precise for not to have been planned.
Despite Esteban’s face being pressed into the mattress, you could still see his lovesick eyes glaring at the camera. It’s like he was directly looking at you. All of his private parts were on full display, giving him an extra vulnerable look in that position. He swayed his hips sensually from side to side, his hard cock following the movement. If you zoomed in, you would have noticed the small drops of precum dripping from the slit and how red his tip was.
“I-I've been good for you all day… but… you didn’t answer and I just couldn’t wait anymore.” He whined, “You need to know how much I’ve missed you.”
One of his hands went between his legs as he spoke, grabbed onto his cock and he started stroking it. The other one gripped the sheets while slutty moans left his mouth. He looked like he was milking himself and now that you thought about it— he would look really good in a sexy cow outfit.
“I wish you were here Mmmf… with me. So you a-ah could… huff… you could reward m-me.”
Esteban sped up the pumping motion on his dick as he spoke, all the while he tried to move his hips to hump his hand.
“I’m just a… Nnnf… slut. Ah! I just Ngh… want to be fucked by yo—” He had bitten his lips, the wave of pleasure making it hard for him to speak.
You swore you saw his asshole open slightly and clench onto nothing. Your intuition was answered to be right as his left hand tentatively brushed against the curve of his ass to finger himself. Since Esteban didn’t have anything to hold his weight anymore, his face got pressed even more into the mattress. His words and moans were coming out partially muffled because of it.
“I want Aaah… I want you so badl— Ngggh.”
His finger successfully found his asshole and had begun circling the entrance. It didn’t take long before Esteban pushed two fingers inside, not wanting to waste any more time. It went in with such ease that you suspected him to have lubed it in advance.
Unconsciously, both of his hands started to move at the same paste in a rhythmic pattern. When he would stroke back to the base of his dick, his other hand would pull out of his hole. Then the same thing would happen again, but in reverse.
He looked adorable when his eyes rolled back as the combination of sensations coming from both his ass and cock was getting too much for his poor brain. It was also getting harder for you to comprehend what he was babbling out, but you rejoiced in the sounds he made nonetheless.
His movements became more messy. In this hazed state he had to force his fingers out of him to focus both of his hands on his dick instead. Esteban gripped his shaft and started making a tight twisting motion, pulling additional moans from him. His body was covered in sweat with all the effort he was putting into this private little show, for your pretty eyes only.
You knew that it was all a sign that he was inching closer and closer to release, and you were soon proven to be correct. You knew your good boy well after all.
“I’m Mmm gon’ c-cum—”
He cried out your name in a high-pitched whine as he came, coating his stomach and the sheets with thick ropes of cum. He bucked a few more times in his hands, before gradually slowing down his movements.
"Aaaah…Ngh... n-nngh..."
He lay motionless for a few seconds, except for the occasional shudder of his legs. He painfully got up, every one of his movements seemed slowed down. When he got closer to the camera, you could finally see his messed up face in all its glory. He had drool leaking down his chin, his cheeks were red as if he got slapped and you could see traces of dry tears on his skin. He gave you a weak smile, then the video stopped.
You were left there, in the complete silence of your room, after witnessing the most toe curling video of all time. You slowly clicked on the call option while getting ready. This was going to be a long night.
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
I hope this satisfied the thirst of the Esteban simps 😌
#yandere#yandere x gn reader#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere drabble#tw yandere#sub!yandere#sub yandere#yandere ceo#gn reader#x gn reader#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#My oc-Esteban#pathetic yandere
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𝖶𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒?
୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱
˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗ PAID SERVICES
Today we'll take a look at:
- your surface level personality/image
- your inner world
- your soul energy
︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱
꒰ Your surface level personality/image ꒱
You seem to be struggling a lot and even others can see it or at least that’s your image. People think that you have an unwelcome community or no community at all. Even if you have friends, they could leave you out or you feel that way, or others can witness it or this is something of the past. You may feel a strong need for a sense of belonging which could lead to you overextending and being very welcoming, and gullible. However, despite this, you seem to be a bit isolated and seem to need solitude. You seem to be pretty comfortable with being by yourself. You definitely have those who think you are ‘all talk, no action’. People think that you’re judgmental and also have a tendency to overthink, that you have a tendency to overanalyse situations and people. There are people who think that you have unrealistic ideas without much planning or preparation. All of this may have been discouraging to hear but one thing is that you’re not perceived the way you actually are and that is okay, you are currently waiting for some sort of change but you’ve learned how to be patient by now. It’s not like you’re ‘all talk, no action’, you’re just patient and taking things one step at a time. You have learned how to go with the flow and are doing so for now, it’s just that others aren’t being able to see how you’ve cleared obstacles one after another and have had major expansion in comparison to your past. Your hard work is paying off little by little but you’ve not received all the rewards yet. Continue celebrating how far you’ve come, others just don’t know anything about you and your life. They think that you’re not doing well mentally and emotionally, that you’re at a rock bottom. It’s funny how people have such different perspectives of you than who you truly are. You look at it as even if those endings, hurt and situations were hard, you transformed a lot from it and you’re still in a transition period. You’re still letting go and changing. You’ve not fully gotten used to the new beginnings but you’re having a lot of them. Despite the negative feelings that tend to come forth, the fear and sorrow, the cycles have finally ended.
꒰ Your inner world ꒱
YES!! I’m so happy, I was right! Those who think negatively of you based on your surface level personality believe the same about themselves. They think that you’re ‘all talk, no action’ because they know they themselves are ‘all talk, no action’. You have a really rich inner world. At this point, you value balance, i.e. giving and receiving equally. Two people can go through the same or at least similar situations and turn out to be completely different. I wonder if you come from fairly humble beginnings, your family or you had a bankruptcy, you didn’t have a parent so you took up a lot of responsibilities, you grew up with your guardians instead of parents, started earning young or weren’t given much money (it could be a situation similar to all these examples). Even if you did come from a well off family, there was some sort of instability. There was a point when you probably didn’t have anything or didn’t have much. Also, you seem to have lost a lot, many people, things or you may not have had much to lose to begin with. I’m definitely getting that you felt unsupported by others and alone. I’m getting this in every sense, i.e. financially, mentally, physically and emotionally. Your health was bad at that time too. You didn’t look good physically (because you weren’t) and neither did you feel good internally. The loss of connections at that time was the worst thing that they could have done to you because these people definitely weren’t doing things for the sake of their peace or anything of that sort, they wanted to create chaos and pain for you. This is your confirmation that they wanted to break you down, they wanted to knock you down to a peg. You are too kind and strong though, despite all the difficult times and changes, you went within yourself to find answers and move forward. Despite all the distress that you had to experience, the moment you gained just a little more stability, you started wanting to give to others and become more good charactered. You’re grateful for what you have and try to treat everyone equally, and with respect. You already share resources from the good of your heart but you’re focused on your investments, you’re focused on building your money. You’re trying to be responsible and are generous, kind and truly valuable because you value the right things, and you also try to grow and live by certain values, morals and virtues within yourself. However, your past still is affecting you mentally because you were thrown under a bus and you’ve gotten used to thinking about it 💀. The metaphor I’m getting is that you were strolling with your group of best friends or your lover (possibly both) you had their best interests at heart and thought they had the same for you too but suddenly, in the blink of an eye, you were thrown under a bus. It was really difficult to even comprehend, the wheels crushing your bones, the confusion, until you eventually passed sway and when you woke up, you didn’t have those loved ones around you, you found out that your feet aren’t working anymore, you didn’t even receive a call from them to ask about your whereabouts and needs but instead, they started making memes about how you’re unable to walk now. You were hurt, betrayed, lonely but little by little, you tried to walk and even though it took you some time, you started being able to stand by yourself, then you started walking until you were finally sprinting. That’s just a metaphor but it was not an exaggeration, whatever those people did to you was the same level of betrayal that I’ve written in the example above (regardless of whether you realise it or not). You have a scary deal of determination but you also have a lot of energy towards those situations (in the form of aggression and anger) even if you don’t realise it.
You’ve had many revelations and still continue having them. You’ve started seeing the truth about past people and situations. All of you here lead different lives but you’ve learned how to find abundance right where you are. Some of you have good connections, some of you are progressing in your careers, some of you don’t have either of those but what you do have is that inner abundance. You have a strong desire and even daydream (possibly even literally dream) about community, healthy love, a happy family, a happy relationship, good friendships, etc. You already feel as though you have a fairly supportive work and personal environment. You’ve learned how to be emotionally content without experiencing all the highs and lows just because they might be exciting. You value belonging and long term commitments. Despite this, there are times when you get excessively negative though. You have a tendency to hold onto trauma and haven’t fully escaped your past yet. You can definitely feel a bit bitter at times. You also have a tendency to at times, let your emotions overpower your logic and at other times, let your logic overpower your emotions. Emotionally, you love unconditionally but your definition of unconditional love isn’t unconditional as in “even if you disrespect me and don’t love, I’ll still love you” but instead it is “I care about your well-being even when I’m angry at you”, “I love and respect you even when we are fighting”, “I accept your shortcomings for you are also a human”, “no matter how much we change, I’ll always love and devote myself to you”. Your emotions are also something that helps you express yourself better. When you love someone, you wish to express it wholeheartedly. You love everyone like a mother would their child, you’re incredibly giving and have a universal love. I wouldn’t be surprised if recently you’ve developed a love for kids or at least, you always have had compassion for kids and felt strongly against beating kids to discipline them, etc. You’re divine, not only do you love like a mother would their child but you also love like a child would their mother. For a child, their parents are all they know and usually even though times are changing and women work too, fathers still aren’t that actively engaged with kids, so it’s the mother that the child is strongly attached to. When you love someone, you give all of yourself to them and expect the same from them. You also have a praise kink ahahaha. It’s okay, don’t be embarrassed, I’m openly claiming to be one of your kind 😔. You have an innocent way of loving and desire to have people praise you. You are fun loving when you love people, with both friends and lovers. You trust them and can be quite naive to be honest because a child does usually naively trust people and especially they trust their own mother blindly. You’re extremely affectionate and tender, also so sensitive to little things. You could have had a parent, guardian or teacher not prioritise your gift to them or brush your affection off at least once if not multiple times and you’ve unconsciously carried it with you. It was especially bad when you were younger, if someone didn’t react the way you wanted them to, you would feel hurt and it would just make you think. You also develop a psychic connection with those you love, trying to and almost always successfully understanding their wants and needs. You are the type to send soft messages, say kind and sweet words, play around, touch them innocently, etc. Gosh, we don’t deserve you. Just looking at your inner world makes me want to love you and desire your love.
꒰ Your soul energy ꒱
Your soul is going to have to deal with a lot of pessimistic moments. However, the best way that you’re going to learn how to deal with them is by being optimistic. You’re going to experience the most exciting situations going sour and turning out wrong. It’s all so that you learn a certain level of detachment and realise that it’s not that you can’t control anything, it’s that nothing can control you, it’s not that you can’t own anything, it’s that nothing can own you. Just the way the cloud covering the sun doesn’t mean the sun isn’t there, that the sun isn’t the sun, it’s just a cloud that will pass by in its own time. Anything that causes you to not be yourself, anything that causes you to not be seen as yourself by others, i.e. the brightest star in our universe, it’s going to pass by in its own time too. Your soul has signed up for trying multiple times. Which means that your soul has also signed up to experience failures before you finally succeed. You’ll notice that the way your life works is - first you go down, then you eventually rise up, then you go down again and while most people would stay down, you rise up even higher. You’re someone who doubts people’s loyalty and well, unfortunately your soul has signed up to deal with conflicts here and there in your partnerships so that you can work through the trust issues that you’ve carried throughout other lifetimes. You’re going to have to learn overtime that a lost love isn’t real love because real love wouldn’t give up on you just the way you wouldn’t give up on them. Your soul is here to grow and expand, past all these issues. You’re supposed to learn how to just be, to just live in the present moment without any reservations and fears. You’re supposed to put your past behind and move forward while applauding your baby steps and how far you’ve come instead of being all impatient. The cycles that you experience, especially in the earlier stages of your life will come to end with many delays. There are going to be days when you’re left empty handed, also days when you won’t see major wins as victories. Don’t blame yourself for having been emotionally attached to your past at some point, you are supposed to learn how to not waste your life away for moments that have fleeted away. You’re supposed to learn how to not seek closure, how to find closure within people’s character and actions. “Pay attention to people’s actions and you’ll never be fooled by words.” You’re going to suppress pain and anger at some point, eventually overcoming a lot of trauma and emotional pain. You’re going to learn how to free yourself from unnecessary emotional energy and are going to forgive yourself, others and situations for the sake of your own peace. There is definitely going to be a point when you refuse to move on though. Until you finally accept the truth of the situation and move forward with strength. If you’re single, it’s because your type is yourself 😔. You’re emotionally mature, compassionate, caring, empathetic, wise, tolerant, loyal, devoted and passionate, and these are the same qualities that you desire in a partner. You strongly desire the affection of someone who’s emotionally mature and intelligent, and makes a good counsellor. You want to have a partner that’s better than you in some way so that you can learn from them. You want to be able to act like a brat at times. You want them to be empathetic and kind, and understand the matters of the heart by themself. You want them to be open to supporting others and especially you. You want a kind and respectable partner because you are the same way and growing to take on more and more of that identity.
︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱
꒰ Your surface level personality/image ꒱
You seem to be exploring multiple possibilities and options, often finding it challenging to choose a single path. This can lead to confusion and a sense of being overwhelmed by the choices in front of you. However, this exploration is a crucial part of your decision-making process. People might perceive you as indecisive or lost in daydreams but in reality, you're weighing your options and considering all possible outcomes. You may find yourself feeling stuck or encountering delays. Your usual swift movement and energetic pace might seem hindered. This stagnation can be frustrating, leading others to think that you're not making progress. Despite this, you are learning to adapt and move forward at a different pace, which is necessary for your long-term growth. It’s essential to understand that this period of slower movement is temporary and will eventually lead to greater momentum. You still need more experience for spirituality, emotions and love. You might feel hesitant to express your emotions fully, leading to misunderstandings or perceived miscommunications. Others might see you as inexperienced or lacking in depth in these areas. However, this is a period of learning and growth for you. You're developing a deeper understanding of your emotional landscape and how to articulate your feelings better. This phase is crucial for your emotional and creative development. You have a tendency to overanalyse situations and people, reminds me a lot of the previous pile, you may have been drawn to it. You may be too busy on certain aspects of your life which leads you to not having time to focus on the other aspects. You seem to lack direction right now but I would say that as long as you have your priorities straight and make decisions from your heart, you’ll be fine. I think that you have a slow moving body, you seem to give slow reactions but there are other days when you give impulsive and hyperactive responses? It’s quite endearing honestly. Supposing a football was about to hit you but it hit the wall instead, on some days you’ll just stand there and not react much, not even say anything, just blink a few times and go on with your day while on other days, you’ll be like “if this ball had hit me, I swear whoever kicked it!” while waddling around the football field. I’m getting that while others may not fully understand your journey or the depth of your experiences, it is clear that you are on a path of significant personal growth. Keep celebrating your achievements and know that you are progressing, even if the rewards are not yet fully visible. Your hard work and patience will eventually pay off, leading to a more fulfilling and balanced life.
꒰ Your inner world ꒱
This is crazy. Much like the previous pile who were perceived a certain way by other people but were strongly of substance. It’s the same for you. You’re incredibly humble naturally but you still make the conscious effort to maintain and create more humility within yourself? I’ve just started reading this part but I already respect and admire you so that speaks for itself. You could have a few conservative beliefs here and there or just views that are considered to be ‘conservative’ but are actually just basic human decency? It’s very natural for you, you have these qualities innately within yourself and you unconsciously, subconsciously and consciously look for these qualities as well. You really value loyalty ‘stereo heart’ by Gym Class Heroes is playing. You’re not exactly satisfied with your current state of wealth, status and success but you still continue to carry yourself with your head held high. You want something more but you’re not underestimating the journey to get there. You understand just how precious the present moment is and you try your best to appreciate it to the best of your abilities. You’re committed to your present duties and responsibilities while still reaching for more because you understand that doing the best with what you’ve got is the only way to live a life without many regrets. You’re very human and you accept that, that’s a great part of your charm. You know that regrets are inevitable but you still try to make the most out of life. You’re very reliable and loyal. You have dreams but know how to have realistic expectations or even if you have big dreams and unrealistic expectations, you internally have the awareness of that so you aren’t discouraged when reality isn’t living up to such dreams, hopes and expectations. Plus even if you have big dreams before starting to work on a certain goal, once you start the goal, you’re able to appreciate your little steps. You also become very duty focused and wanting to do the best so instead of focusing on what you don’t have, you end up feeling good about how much you do/did and what you did manage to have. “Mindset so good even my failures are a success.” You are strong willed and are currently more interested in financial stability than romance. I’m not getting it being anything superficial. You’re an incredibly well rounded person who would love a stable and loving connection, it’s just that you are a person who understands that you have this one life to live and you don’t want to have a futile life where you didn’t even make the most out of your own potential. Also, your goals seem to be more within your reach than romance. You want romance and relationships in general (platonic ones as well) to not be forced so you’re just patiently working on yourself. You have a grounded approach to success as well.
You aren’t the type to be like “once I become rich, I’ll hang out with successful and rich people, I’ll fly in the sky and forget everyone”, instead once you become successful, you’ll make sure to give credits to those who deserve it. “Thank you for instilling me with such values in the short time that we spent together, I promised to lead a virtuous life back then, maybe not out loud but within myself to honour you. You deserve a large chunk of credit for my success and once again, I promise to lead a virtuous life.” Once you’re rich and successful, you’ll be sure to bow down to those who serve you, to the community, to those who have raised you, to those who are younger, to those who are older, to those who are growing. ‘End of beginning’ by Djo is playing. I feel like there was a certain group of people that you really loved. The feeling that I’m getting is a childlike warmth and fun. It definitely seems to be a whole community with one person or a few people being the most memorable. You seem to have a lot of love for people in general and now that you’re growing, you are more appreciative of those who raised you and taught you certain things despite their own shortcomings but these people touched you on a different level in a very short time. It’s not like you don’t have appreciation for those you’ve grown up with and those who have always been around you or anything like that, it’s just that the tenderness, warmth yet firm boundaries and tough love you received from this community or maybe a certain person/group of people within this community has caused you to become more soft internally yet firm in your approach to the world yet kind, and very comfortable with your internal values of loyalty, living life to the fullest, stability, being virtuous as though it’s your duty, etc. I just heard that their humble and down to earth ways gave you a new life. They seem to be people who you are not around anymore but the warmth and love that they gave you and you have for them remains within you. This is so heartwarming. Some of you may think that you were at your worst when you received their affection, warmth, kindness and love, and it is true for many of you but just think about how loveable you must be to be loved so tenderly, warmly and deeply when you were at your worst. Due to your desire to be a certain kind of character, when you feel as though you didn’t live up to such ideals, you have a tendency to be a bit hard on yourself. You may have felt as though you had really strayed away from your morals at that time, that you had failed to maintain self respect, respect for others, your own morals and values which led you to being a disrespect-able person at that time but think about it, just how respectable of a person you must be to be respected and loved by such kind, courageous (because it takes courage to be kind and loving) and respectable people.
You deserve the world, you’re so precious. You have practical goals and planning, you’re also working hard and remaining patient right now. You’re a diligent person who is creating a stable and strong identity, and future for yourself. You try not to slack off your habits because you understand that your habits make up your identity. Think about it like this, if I smoke for a few days, that might be just for fun, due to peer pressure or something but soon that smoking will likely turn into something more, an addiction to say the least. Soon enough, my identity becomes that of a smoker. “Galene is a smoker.” Externally and action wise, you seem to be pretty well tempered. While, you may get angry here and there, when it comes to even big things, you just deal with them instead of complaining. You’re approaching life with optimism and passion. You also have your own personal philosophy through which you go through life. You’re pretty flexible right now and are just trying to be more harmonious, and cooperative. You are not aware of it but you have a lot of faith in the divine timing of things. You naturally believe and act as though things will turn out to be fine in the end, and are being pretty calm about whatever might be happening. You are just trying to remain grounded and in flow with life. You’re trying to stay true to your purpose and seem to be able to find contentment right where you are, even though you’re trying to reach for more. You have become pretty divine ahaha, you have a natural love for humanity or at least act with it. You’re looking at your life as your journey and just going through it, doing your best. This is very specific but I’m picking up on a man or a guy? I’m not sure who this is but at least one or two of you have learned from them to the point you have become them to a certain extent. Is this someone from that community setting from earlier? This person has affected you positively though. I’m getting something about your standards here. This person has raised your standards significantly. You look for stability, efficiency, mental strength, discipline and safety in your romantic connection and connections in general. This person was really wise and you’ve grown to be really wise. You have always been wise but just hadn’t been able to embrace that wisdom but you are doing so now. You also look for wisdom in your companions especially within your partner. This person looks incredibly sexy when angry. You are both very passionate individuals but your fuse used to lose when you were around them but regardless the connection between the both of you is beautiful. There was a telepathic bond. “Real recognises real”, they recognised your greatness at the worst time of your life. You have grown to become a lot like this person, likely because they actively tried to instil certain qualities, values and virtues within you. They did so because they had faith in you. Be grateful, you’re such a great person, you have great people see your brightness even when you are at your dullest.
꒰ Your soul energy ꒱
Your soul’s energy is one where your mind is often filled with hesitation and uncertainty. There are moments when you feel a lack of inspiration and motivation, which can make it difficult to start new projects or pursue your passions. This might lead to frustration and a sense of being stuck. However, this energy also leads to teaching your soul the importance of patience and the value of waiting for the right moment to act. It's a lesson in finding your inner spark even when the world feels dim. There’s a layer of complexity to your mental energy. It signifies that your mind is deeply influenced by your relationships and connections with others. You have a strong desire for harmony and unity, and your thoughts often revolve around how to maintain balance and peace in your relationships. This can sometimes lead to overthinking and indecisiveness as you weigh the pros and cons of every situation. However, it also highlights your ability to understand different perspectives and your commitment to nurturing meaningful connections. You are someone who was probably a victim of thinking about others before yourself due to how much you loved them (in the past). Your physical energy and actions are marked by a tendency to be cautious and sometimes overly defensive. You are meant to struggle with impulsiveness and a lack of direction in your actions. You will find yourself starting many things but not always following through. This is going to lead to frustration and a feeling of unfulfilled potential. However, this energy also brings a lesson in self-awareness and the importance of planning and thoughtful execution. You’re someone who is deeply involved in the present moment with those you love. Wanting to delve into that love, indulge it wholeheartedly. Due to this, you create really sentimental connections and memories. Even after you grow, you will find yourself functioning from a very childlike form of love and connection, not just that, your actions will be very childlike too. This is going to manifest in all ways, you’re going to be loving and affectionate like a child, sensitive like one too (to the actions and words of those you love) and also having fun, playing, and finding joy in simple things like a child.
Which is why, at some point, you’ll find yourself being deeply connected to your past. You will often find yourself reminiscing about earlier times and drawing comfort from familiar activities and routines. This nostalgia will hold you back from fully engaging with the present at some point, but when you learn how to deal with it and be present, it will provide a rich source of joy and grounding. Embracing the lessons from your past will help you build a more secure and fulfilling present. Emotionally, you tend to hold on tightly to what you have, whether it’s material possessions, relationships or beliefs. You might struggle with letting go and trusting the flow of life. This can lead to feelings of isolation and a fear of change. However, this energy also teaches you the value of stability and the importance of setting boundaries to protect your emotional well-being as you grow. You’re going to have nurturing and sentimental connections that might be short term, likely in community settings, most likely not romantic because you’ll love everyone from that community due to how warmly you feel towards them but leave you touched forever, you’ll learn really valuable lessons from them. You’re have probably already experience deep emotional wounds and heartbreaks in this lifetime. These painful experiences shaped your emotional landscape, leading to moments of sorrow and grief. However, this energy also signifies great healing and growth which leads to lesson being learnt. Through these challenges, you are going to develop resilience and a deeper understanding of your emotional needs. This reading is a reminder that while pain is inevitable, it also paves the way for greater compassion and empathy. Your soul is on a journey of profound transformation. The challenges you face are opportunities for growth, teaching you patience, self-awareness and the importance of emotional resilience. Embrace both the light and dark aspects of your soul’s energy, as they both contribute to your unique and powerful journey.
︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱
꒰ Your surface level personality/image ꒱
You are often perceived as hopeful and idealistic. You possess a sense of optimism and vision for the future that others find inspiring. People see you as someone who looks beyond the present difficulties and focuses on what could be. This perception can lead to others viewing you as a dreamer, someone who is always seeking out new possibilities and ways to make the world a better place. Your ideas are often seen as refreshing and uplifting, even if they seem a bit out of reach at times. People may feel that you have a unique way of thinking and that you bring a sense of calm and guidance, much like a beacon of light in the dark. However, this idealistic nature can sometimes be misinterpreted. Some might think you are unrealistic or too detached from practical concerns. They might see you as someone who spends too much time dreaming and not enough time acting on those dreams. This can lead to misunderstandings about your true intentions and capabilities. Despite this, your hopeful outlook and ability to envision a brighter future are strengths that set you apart and make you a source of inspiration for those who truly understand you. You are perceived as someone who has faced hardships but is in the process of recovery. They think that you’ve been through periods of struggle, possibly related to health, financial stability or general well-being. Others see you as someone who is working hard to overcome these challenges and improve your situation. This perception can evoke sympathy and admiration, as it shows your resilience and determination to rise above difficult circumstances. On the surface, people think that you have experienced exclusion or abandonment in some form, yet you are gradually finding your way back to stability. They notice your efforts to rebuild. This can sometimes be seen as a sign of vulnerability but it also highlights your strength in acknowledging and addressing your difficulties. People admire your tenacity and the steps you are taking to regain control of your life, even if they don’t fully understand the extent of your journey. Emotionally and spiritually, you are seen as someone who values deep connections and harmony in relationships. You have a strong desire for unity and mutual understanding. People perceive you as someone who is compassionate, loving and capable of forming meaningful bonds with others. Your emotional energy is often focused on creating balance and fostering positive interactions, which can make you seem very approachable and caring. You are seen as someone who thrives in partnerships and collaborations. You might have a partner right now? If not, when you do have love interests or even just talk about love, you talk about it in a very pure manner. Whether in friendships, family relationships or romantic connections, you are viewed as a person who brings people together and seeks to maintain harmony. They see you as someone who sometimes prioritises others’ needs over your own, sometimes to your detriment. While your surface-level personality and image may be misunderstood by some, it is clear that you are a person of depth, resilience and compassion. Your mind is a source of hope and inspiration, your actions reflect a journey of recovery and determination, and your emotional world is centered around creating loving and balanced connections. These qualities make you a unique and valuable presence in the lives of those who truly see you for who you are.
꒰ Your inner world ꒱
You’re healing and you’re aware of that. You’ve made some transition and you can feel the shift but what I need to tell you is that you don’t realise that you’re over it all. You are over it but it does not feel like so because not everyday is a fun, roller coaster ride. You’ve undergone empowering emotional changes. You have learned from your mistakes and have found the strength to move forward. You might be realising or may have realised that a lot of the love you received in the past was false. You may be realising that the love you felt then was the love that you were back then? I’m getting an acceptance of the fact that you almost always (if not always) got the shorter end of the stick. You’re interested in living originally, being true to yourself, instead of worrying about what people will say or what’s considered to be orthodox, or the right way of doing things. You have a strong sense of blind faith, as in you know that you’ll be fine? This blind faith doesn’t even seem religious, it’s just innate, it’s because you have great faith in yourself and the flow of life. You’re still changing your views as you’re still learning. “Maybe the happy ending was developing humility while still being proud of myself.” You have developed great humility in the past few years. You are going your own way. You don’t really have mentors or teachers, you’re just doing what you need to do, with whatever resources and knowledge you save or can find. While, you are humble and changing your beliefs, you’re not bending to other people’s beliefs because you have a knowledge of the kind of belief system you possess and wish to move forward with. Many of you contemplate religions a lot. You seem to know that there’s a higher power but for you, religion is trying your best to lead a righteous path. You’re also someone who is working really hard. You tend to get consumed by your work. Also, you prefer it being this way, you like to work in a space where you can be completely devoted, in a way you can be completely devoted, in a field that allows you to do so. Currently, you may not realise how much you’re doing because you’re doing multiple things. You should be more graceful with yourself. You lack elegance in the way you speak to and about yourself. You are critical of yourself and feel as though you fail to present yourself the way you wish to. You wish to be more refined in the way you present yourself. You should be a bit careful, you may be building great success little by little, you may end up with a lifestyle that is really hard to maintain. You’re putting a lot of emphasis on prioritisation and time management because you’re balancing multiple projects plus life outside these endeavours. When you work, you don’t just do things, you devote yourself to it, you pour your all into it. So when you work, you naturally end up putting a cherry on top of all that you were asked to do. You seem to be quite busy. I need to remind you that you don’t have time to waste but please take time to yourself.
I’m not sure who needs to hear this but please don’t start your day with TikTok or Instagram reels, there’s a lot of negative content on those platforms, it’s going to drag your vibe down. Your decisions require adjustments, even in your daily life because you have a lot to do. Everyday, you assess security, risks, calculating and speculating everything. You may be struggling with laze right now but despite this, you’re persistent on your path and growth. You have an inner satisfaction and contentment despite not necessarily being happy. You’ve learned how to think about yourself and put yourself first. You’re very reliable still and are willing to work for connections but now, you’re learning how to be more patient and less controlling with how things flow. You’ve also reached a point where if something is interrupting your peace, you just block it and try to shift your mindset to something better. You’re naturally very patient with people so you are keen on not letting those who are takers and talkers, and not givers and doers enter your life anymore. You’re practical and responsible so due to this, you consider the emotions of those around you. However, now you’re at a point where you don’t try to look at things from other people’s perspective anymore, you just remain practical and try to remain grounded within yourself. When you start focusing on the negative, it becomes really difficult for you to get out because it just pulls you in. You’ve learned a lot about life, you’ve learned how to live, you’ve learned how to be in the world and of the world. You still have slips here and there but I would say that you’re doing pretty well. You’re working for what you want. However, no matter how much you achieve, you feel like there’s always more to reach for, please take the time to assess and make sure that your desires come from the right place and mindset. You seem to be greatly committed to your career, goals, study and growth more than anything. As much as you would love a stable and healthy connection that you can just delve into, if you can’t find something, a connection worth investing in, you’re not interested in putting yourself in compromising situations. You’re emotionally attached to growing. You also tend to feel guilty when you don’t work or miss out on work for a few days due to your desire and almost a need to be, and feel as though you’re remaining consistent. You’ve value a bit more of a conservative approach to connections. You value fidelity, loyalty and strong yet humble, and grounded character in both you and the other person. You wish to have connections that are real, that are grounded, where you’re not looking at your phone when with each other, where you write and receive letters, give and receive flowers, and share and buy each other books. The conclusion is that, you’re very committed to and focused on your own growth and career, and when it comes to connections, you only want those that are long term and stable with trustworthy and reliable people. You’re doing well, all the best going forward!
꒰ Your soul energy ꒱
Right away, you’re bound for success and recognition. Your soul is on a journey of mastering inner peace and clarity. You'll face moments of conflict and competition in this lifetime, you likely already have but instead of being drawn into battles, you'll learn to seek harmony and understanding. You’ll experience many conflicts regarding competition besides the usual ego clashes. However, the thing is, as ambitious and growth focused you may be. I forgot to mention in the ‘inner world’ part of the reading but you value recognition and status. So, as much as you may care about these, you have a very grounded approach to these. You aren’t necessarily competing with people, you’re simply just trying to achieve what you want while you are going to have people in this lifetime who will compete with you over anything and everything. In fact, in the past, you may have been accused of being the competitive and inconsiderate one when in reality even your friends have been really competitive with you at some point. These experiences are here to teach you that true strength that comes from inner calm and being cooperative on the surface. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still very competitive, it’s just that your approach to competition is different. Due to how much others have competed with you, you may have felt the need to be competitive in the same or similar way that they were but you realised that you have an inner abundance that you used to function with but have gotten out of touch with. You’ll get back to your original approach to life and achievements, realising that it’s not about winning every argument or competition but finding peace within yourself and fostering it in your surroundings, regardless of whether or not you get what you worked for. Just as the clouds pass and reveal the sun, your challenges will pass and you'll shine even brighter. You’ll stop associating your self worth with how much you achieve. In your physical pursuits, recognition and success are just destined. Your hard work and persistence are bound to pay off and you’re going to have to celebrate many of your victories. Right now, you’re learning to accept compliments, praise and appreciate yourself and your achievements without doubting your worth. This phase of triumph is here to teach you the value of perseverance and self-belief.
Remember, it's not just about the accolades; it's about the journey and the resilience you've shown. Your soul has signed up for these moments to empower you to take bold steps forward. Emotionally and spiritually, your journey is deeply connected to love and meaningful relationships. You are here to experience profound connections that go beyond the superficial. Your soul seeks unity and balance, integrating different aspects of yourself to create a harmonious inner world. The lessons of love will teach you to make choices that align with your higher self and to embrace the healing power of love. Your soul's growth involves understanding that real connections are worth every trial and triumph, and that true love never gives up. You wish to merge with your loved ones especially romantically. You have a loving and considerate spirit that’s very genuine in nature, and you want to love people as if they were you, as if you are one. You wish to work with their best interests at heart so naturally, you wish to be loved in such a way too. You want to love people who see and treat you, and your connection like team and teamwork instead of working with self serving motivations. Your loving spirit is something that you’ll notice, never dies. You continue loving deeply despite how many times you may hurt because that’s just who you are. Gosh, you’re precious, never change yourself. Overall, your soul is on a transformative path, learning to find peace within, celebrate your successes and embrace the power of love. Each challenge you face is designed to help you grow and evolve. As you navigate through conflicts, rise in your achievements, and deepen your emotional connections, you'll discover your true strength in harmonizing your mind, body, and spirit. Trust that every step you take is leading you toward a higher purpose, and embrace the cycles of ups and downs, knowing each phase is a crucial part of your soul's growth and expansion.
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save a horse w/ choi san
words - fuck knows
genre - nsfw
warnings - cowboy!san, cashier!reader, masturbation, talks of dick sucking, it’s mainly just reader fantasising but hey, don’t we all? reader is explicitly described as arab and uses feminine nicknames (little lady, ma’am)
not proof read bc i’m lazy and sick :)
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the shop is silent other than the sound of your breathing and the rattling of the doors in the hot summer breeze. it’s the time of evening where places like this begin to wind close their shutters, and the less than reputable places begin to open, tempting people in with the promise of booze and a good time. there’s one such place right in your like of sight, just across the dusted track that you suppose could be called a road. the music that plays there is barely audible right now, but no doubt by the time your boss finally lets you slip out back and head home, it’ll be loud enough to spook even the hardiest of horses.
that’s a problem for later, though. for now, you’re happy to wallow in the quiet, flicking through the pages of your novel as you wait patiently for a customer to slip through the door. it’s been 10, maybe 20 minutes since the last one left, but you know that these things don’t run like clockwork. sometimes you’ll have a stream of customers waiting at the register for you to rid them of their hard earned money, and other times you can divulge in 5 or so chapters between seeing people.
for the sole reason being that your book is getting rather interesting, you hope that it’s closer to the latter today; that you don’t see another soul for at least another 30 minutes so that you can find out what has happened to the killer! the book so far has been all twists and turns and convoluted plot lines, but the murder of Christian Truro’s sister, Mabel, has to be the most interesting of the lot. it’s a classic tale of good versus evil, and cliche as it might be, you’re a sucker for tropes.
you blindly reach a hand out to the lollipop container you keep on the counter, fingers wriggling around as you try to find purchase on the glass lip of the jar. it’s around here somewhere, you know that much, but for some reason you just can’t seem to find it. as much as it pains you to do so, you draw your eyes away from the words on your page in an attempt to search for it with more than just your touch.
only, you find more than just the jar.
there’s a thick pair of thighs on the other side of the counter, clad in jeans and a pair or worn leather chaps. they’re scuffed up, covered in dirt and dust that serves to prove just how hard they’ve been at work. you can imagine them sitting either side of a saddle, straddling the firm leather as they tense and relax with each trot. funny—your spit feels awfully thick as you gulp it down. you find it filling up your mouth, collecting at the corners of your lips as if ready to drool from them.
fucking hell, keep it together.
your gaze shifts north, travelling over a tiny waist, a chest so big it should be illegal, and shoulders you’re convinced could break a world record. it’s difficult not to let your eyes linger on the way his shirt buttons bulge, but somehow you manage not to appear like a total creep, raising your gaze until finally, you find his face. at the angle you’re sat, slouching on your stool behind the counter in a way that makes the base of your spine ache terribly, it’s fairly easy to sneak a peek under the wide brim of his hat. the way it’s drawn low over his eyes has you wondering whether he’s trying to keep those pretty eyes and dangerous smirk hidden, and if so, why?
“you sell whisky?” he purrs, the sound rumbling like an engine through the stifling silence. it has you shuffling in your seat, grinding your hips down into the worn leather pad to try and rid yourself of the strange ache at the apex of your thighs.
“this is a hardware store, mister,” you reply, voice teetering on the edge of a whine. if it weren’t for the heat blooming across your cheeks, maybe you could’ve blamed your shaky tone on the fact that your intimidated by the tall man, but as true as that may be, there’s certainly something stronger that you feel.
lust isn’t an emotion that strikes you often; mainly in the dark hours of the night when the streets are quiet and all you can hear is the rumble of water passing over pebbles in the nearby stream. only then do you let yourself close your eyes and imagine the strong touch of a man. as your fingers pry apart your slick folds and reach for that little treasure trove of pleasure, you set your mind free and pretend it’s a hand other than your own bringing you to that all important peak. your thighs twitch, and you long for a warm pair of hands to hold them still; your pussy leaks and you dream of thick fingers trailing through the remnants of your desire.
it’s that very same desire that has your eyes fluttering down to gaze upon his hands. they’re covered by thick leather gloves, and yet somehow they still manage to draw a longing sigh from your parted lips.
“so it is,” he says, “still doesn’t answer my question, though. do you sell whisky?”
his voice is insistent as he leans forward, hands catching him on the counter and biceps bulging against the short sleeves of his shirt. he really ought to get some clothes that fit him since the ones he’s wearing so so clearly don’t. the seams look as though they’re about to burst at any minute, not that it would be an issue if they did. you’re sure there’s a sewing kit around here somewhere.
“why would we sell whisky at a hardware store?” it takes an immeasurable amount of effort to look at his face again; so much so that you offer yourself some mental praise once your eyes meet his own once more. they’re deep and chocolaty, with the slightest hint of danger. it’s funny, really; you’re sure he’s trying to make himself seem threatening, but it just makes you yearn for his touch even more.
“why do you sell lollipops at a hardware store?” he points to the glass jar that had evaded you mere moments before, “i don’t think many of your customers would be a fan of…” he narrows his eyes to read the label, smirking a little when he does, “strawberries and cream? how cute.”
he shoots a devilish grin in your direction, trying his hardest to make you aware of the fact that the compliment is for you. that you’re the cute one for keeping these lollipops on the desk, close enough for you to just reach in and grab one whenever your sweet tooth needs satiating. the way your nose wrinkles at the comment only makes him chuckle.
“some of the customers have kids,” you defend their position on the counter like your life defends on it.
“and some of the staff have cravings to satisfy,” he replies playfully. you squeeze your thighs together so hard that the muscles begin to ache.
“listen,” you put your book down on the side, not at all caring about losing your page. in all honesty, it’s the last thing on your mind right now; christian trudo and his cousin marcel—or whatever their fucking names were—can wait a little while. there’s something far more interesting in front of you right now, “if you want whisky, my boss keeps a bottle in the back. i can’t legally sell it since we don’t have a licence but i’m sure the old bastard could go without a glass or two.”
“are you inviting me back there for a drink, little lady?” he leans down to your level, tipping his hat back so that his eyes are still on show. some strange force pulls your forward in your seat until your chest is pressed firmly against the counter. you don’t bother to look down at the way it makes your cleavage bulge—he does it for you. his eyes grow wide and his pupils swell as if he’s just fallen head over heals with your breasts. you don’t blame him; you’ve fallen head over heals for his too.
“i might be,” you shrug, a dangerous grin of your own tugging on your lips, “you’ll owe me though! i could get into big trouble for stealing my bosses liqueur.”
his eyes don’t leave your cleavage easily, slowly dragging up your chest and your neck until they reach your face.
“oh? and what might you have in mind, ma’am?”
his breath is hot on your face, although that might just be the all-consuming lust. it makes you tingle from your head to your toes, like a thousand volts of electricity are being fired up and down your spine each second. with each twitch of your hips, you feel the sticky mess you’ve already made in your underwear, and you can’t help but shift them again to try and find some relief. if you were a weaker woman, your fingers would already be up the front of your skirt, dancing away on your clit.
“well, those jeans do look awfully tight,” even tighter with the tent he’s sporting, “they must be mighty uncomfortable—perhaps it’s best we get you out of them, hm?”
he hums in approval.
“i could say the same about your corset,” there’s something daring in him as he reaches a hand forward to drag a hand over the top of your breasts that rise and fall with each heavy breath. it hitches, stuttering in your throat as the calloused tips of his fingers blaze a trail of fire across your skin, “it’s a wonder you can breathe in this pretty little thing.”
his hand pulls away and suddenly you can breathe again. you suck in a deep breath that makes your lungs burn, and then sigh it out heavily. “my boss likes when i dress up a little,” you admit, “brings in the customers, and customers means money.”
“brought me in, didn’t it?” and you nod, because of course it did. the pure notion that this man had entered a store filled with nuts and bolts in the hopes of grabbing a bottle of whisky is nonsense, meaning something else had to have dragged him in. a girl could let something like this go to her head, if she didn’t already know just what a pretty smile and a wink could do to the men in this town.
the man straightens up once more, allowing you to come eye to eye with the bulge that strains against the zipper of his jeans. would it be crude to lean across the counter to mouth at it? to get the denim all wet with your drool as you lick stripes up and down the silhouette of his cock? perhaps, and yet a strange part of you just doesn’t seem to care. the grandfather clock in the corner tells you it’s another couple of hours until you close, but maybe that’s exciting? the idea that anyone could walk in and see you on your knees for a man you met mere moments ago…
the ache between your thighs is becoming downright unbearable.
“i have an idea, little lady,” he pulls at least half of your attention away from his member, though it never quite leaves your line of sight, “how about we leave the drink until after the payment, hm? you can get me out of these tight jeans, i’ll get you out of that little corset, and then to celebrate our newfound comfort, we can split that bottle of whisky! sound good?”
and it does. really good, actually. borderline the best idea you’ve ever heard! but the shop…
oh, fuck the shop. it’s not like you’ll be able to work in this state anyway; so horny that you’re sure the grinding of your hips it bound to have caused structural damage to the stool you’re perched on. you can’t serve customers when your thoughts are focussed on stuffing a cowboy’s cock down your throat, now can you? it’s best to fix problems like this as soon as possible, you find.
“that door there,” you gesture to the store cupboard in the corner of the store, “there’s an old leather armchair in there. if you go and take a seat, i’ll be there to rid you of those jeans in just a moment.”
a quick nod and he’s heading off, barely sparing a glance over his shoulder as you stand up and straighten out your skirt.
“i’ll see you in a minute, little lady,” he drawls, accent thick with lust, “me and the little guy will be waiting patiently!”
you stifle a laugh. little? he must have a very strange idea of what that word means.
“oh, yeah?” you call after him, “well, you and the little guy ought to tell me your names before we get too acquainted, don’t you think?”
the door to the storeroom creeks as it opens.
“the names san.”
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#ateez smut#san x reader#san smut
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What jobs did Wally and friends do before becoming actors?
Before they became actors ✨🎥✨
I’m going to use this question to give more information from when they were younger. Before their lives as actors, they all lived in a secluded neighborhood where they all met over the years, with Wally and Barnaby meeting first as neighbors. Wally was often in charge with looking after younger kids because it was a small community and Wally just happened to be great with kids. He played a big role with them, serving as a kind of mentor. He usually spent his time entertaining the entire neighborhood when he wasn’t with his friends. As far as he could remember, Wally always knew he wanted to work with kids. He loved teaching them, singing to them, their energy, the brightness he felt when he knew that he was helping their path to the future, everything. It’s hard to dislike small beings that have never done wrong.
So when Wally got older, he decided to move to the city where he would pursue his dream of having his own children’s show. His friends, believing in his dream and not wanting to stay in that small community forever, went with him to help any way they can.
So here are the jobs that they had before their big break.
Howdy Pillar was a construction worker
Eddie dear was a Milkman,(it’s not as cool as a mailman but whatever)
Julie swept hair up at a hair salon.
Frank worked at the public library
Sally was part time at a small shop in the local mall.
Barnaby worked long nights as a bartender
Wally was a secretary to a very busy newspaper company. Often working 7 days a week nonstop
Poppy had a difficult time keeping a job and was fired multiple times so they all decided that she was to stay and take care of the house while they were away. She would pack lunches for them everyday and kept the apartment clean. The parental instincts are strong in her with her being the oldest. 💖🌸
Unfortunately moving to the city with no money , set them into debt quickly and with puppets being paid less, made it more difficult to keep up with expenses.
But they’ve stayed fairly happy nonetheless
Friends to Family trope if I may. I don’t think this counts as found family( my mind is slipping away more and more each day)
#welcome home actor au#wally actor au#wally darling#welcome home puppet show#actor au#welcome home#diva wally#eddie dear#poppy partridge#welcome home julie#julie joyful#frank frankly#howdy pillar#welcome home barnaby
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smoking w logan...
logan howlett x reader, friends to lovers
summary: the stress of being a new professor at this school is catching up to you. luckily, you have a good friend to help you take that stress away, in more ways than one.
warnings: weed usage, fem compliments, illusions to sex
word count: 2, 574
I’m fairly new to this school. About 4 months had passed since I had first gotten my invitation from Charles. Which, of course, I happily accepted, excited at the thought of teaching my favorite subjects to people like me. I get the opportunity to share my love of literature through my teachings. The class seems to like me so far, and there’s always a few students straggling behind after class to share a laugh. Being able to connect to my students like this is a treat, and working at this school is just the cherry on top.
The classroom I teach in just so happens to be right across from Professor Howlett's room. His creaky wooden door opens and closes in between classes every period. Being right across from each other means that he and I frequently see each other. Logan often takes advantage of this opportunity to visit the classroom. He’ll do things like bring me coffee, give me papers that I copied off the printer, or just have a little chat. Sometimes, when he's on missions, I'll often sub for his class. It fills me with content to know that Logan trusts me with the care of his class. Being new to the school, I’m highly afraid of what the other professors think of me, but these small interactions with Logan take all of my insecurities away.
“There’s my favorite literature teacher right there!” Logan says with a smile, interrupting my lesson. Interactions like this were common between Logan and I, but every time they happened, the classroom went ballistic. The nosy students love to engage in Logan’s and I's friendship.
“I’m the only literature teacher here, Logan.” I respond with a blank stare, trying to hide my laugh.
“You’ll always be my favorite, though!” The man tells me with a wink before entering his own classroom to return to his teachings. I try to hide my smile and attempt to quickly pull the attention back to my lesson. This interaction made my whole class gasp and snicker.
“Ooo your boyfriend says that you're his favorite!” A student yells, resulting in the whole class to chuckle.
I giggle at their immaturity. “Alright, alright, there's no need for that. Let's get back to Pride and Prejudice now, please?”
Before I know it, the day is done. I stayed behind grading like usual. Lately, I've been so behind in my classwork that I haven't had any time to myself. As a new teacher, I feel as though I have so much to prove, and I have a strong fear of letting everyone down.
A red pen marks a check across my paper as I continue to grade another assignment. My ears are met with the sound of a knock on my door.
“What are you up to here, pretty? It's 7:45 and the sun set hours ago. All the kids are probably just about finished with dinner. You need to get your ass outta here.” Logan tells me as he leans against the doorframe.
I take a quick break from grading to look at the clock on the wall of my class. “Its 7 already? Shit I didn't even notice. I'm just grading some things right now, like always. Seems like that's all I ever do.” I respond with a chuckle, not even lifting my head up to look at him.
Logan comes behind me and begins to rub small circles on my shoulders, massaging out any tension in my body. His presence alone fills me with comfort. The knots in my back loosen with every soft touch.
“Pride and Prejudice, huh?” Logan says as he notices the papers on my desk.
“Yeah I bet your old ass was there when it was written.”
“Haha. You're very funny.” He replies in a sarcastic tone. “Damn with all these knots in your back, I gotta ask if you've been sleeping on a pile of rocks? Who's stressing you out like this?”
A sigh escapes my lips, “I don't wanna sound like I'm complaining or anything because I'm more than happy that I get to work here…it's just…all these papers are really stacking up on me…”
He continues to break up the knots in my back. Another red X on my paper. Then I feel Logan leaning down to whisper something into my ear. “Y'know with all this stress… I think you deserve a little somethin’. Lucky for you, I just went to town and restocked for us.”
I finally take a break from hunching over my papers and turn to him with a smile, already knowing what he had planned. “You don't say, Professor Howlett?”
“Yes ma’am. Got it right in my room. How bout we roll up and then after I'll help you with your papers? We can get 'em all done, even if it takes all night I'll stay here and finish for you. Promise.”
The gesture warms my heart. “That sounds perfect,” a groan leaves my lips, the stress escaping with it, “I appreciate that so much you don't even understand.”
“Yeah yeah, now c'mon and go roll cause you know I'm shit.”
We make our way down the long dimly lit halls to his room and quickly close the door behind us. Logan and I have been smoking together ever since he found me alone with a joint late at night, during one of the first weeks I was here. I'm surprised he even found me because I was hiding out on the roof of the school. Knowing him, he must've sniffed me out, hoping to get some. He told me he wouldn't snitch to Charles if he could smoke with me. I know that he wouldn't have told me either way, but I happily invited his company, especially since I wasn't familiar with anyone here yet.
These late night smoke sessions made our relationship grow stronger. We would hop from topic to topic as the smoke left our lips. Sometimes, covering our childhood, our favorite shows, war stories, gossip, and then laughing to the point of tears the next moment. He found out where I buy from, and ever since that day, he has refused to let me buy my own weed. I tried to tell him that he didn't have to do that, and he said that as long as I rolled for him, then he didn't mind.
He told me that the singular time he attempted to roll it was to impress this girl. He ended up unsuccessful, to say the least. The joint ended up covered in spit with half of the weed on the floor. By the time he told me the end of that story, my face was covered in tears of laughter. This is when I knew that this would be the beginning of a genuine friendship.
The joint is finally finished as I seal it with my tongue. Logan and I only smoke together when it's late at night and everyone is in their own respective spaces. Sneaking around like I'm a kid hiding the fact that they smoke from their parents is honestly kind of fun. It fills me up with just the right amount of adrenaline, and I'm happy that Logan is the one beside me.
We make our way to the roof, and the bright moon greets us. The night sky is clear and filled with gorgeous constellations. The chilling breeze of the night tickles my skin as I take a seat. Of course I forgot to bring a jacket. I try to hide my shiver and lessen the sound of my chattering teeth, but Logan quickly notices. He shifts to take off his brown leather jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. The warmth of his body heat was still trapped in the jacket, and it quickly comforted my senses.
“Logan, you're gonna be cold.” I pleaded.
“ I'll be just fine. Can't have you freezing to death now. Then I won't have anyone to roll for me.” He jokes.
I let out a chuckle as I took the joint out of his coat. Logan holds the lighter to the joint and cups his hands in order to hide the wind from the fire. The lighter makes a clink sound and sparks. The comforting scent fills up my nose as I take a huff. I release the smoke with a happy sigh.
“God, I needed this so much you wouldn't even understand.” I responded. My attention rests on the beautiful night stars.
I passed it to him after a few more hits. Our fingers touch, the feeling heats me up. No matter how cold it is, Logan always manages to stay hot. The joint gives me the courage to rest my head on Logan’s shoulder. The joint lets out a small sizzle as he takes a big inhale.
“Trust me, I know, sweetheart. You've been frantic all week, and I notice it even though you're damn good at hiding it.” He takes another hit in between sentences. “Plus,” Logan then suddenly takes my cold hands and intertwines my fingers with his own, “you bite your nails like crazy when you get stressed.” I look down at our joined hands in shock, trying to contain how much this is affecting me. I quickly bring my attention back to the stars in an attempt to hide my emotions. Logan and I have always shared these small touches but nothing as romantic or intimate as this before, and definitely not for this long. The tension between us has always been there, but it's easier to ignore it than shed a light on it.
The smoke leaves his lips before he passes it to me again. “Yeah I know. It's always been a bad habit of mine when I get a little anxious.” I take the j up to my lips with a long drag. With each hit, I hope that it will make my nerves melt away.
Suddenly, a soft peck is laid on my hand. This action draws my attention away from the shimmering constellations. I'm greeted with kind hazel eyes staring back at me. Logan's gaze is intense as he pays attention to my reaction. “You can't keep doing that. You know it's bad for you.” He gently tells me. Logan’s lips attach to my hand as he lays another peck. He does this as if he could take my stress away with a single kiss.
My attention is drawn to his lips as I watch him slowly drop our hands. His red glassy eyes never left my own, which were magnetized to his lips like magnets. He has me right where he wants me, and I'm more than happy to be here. I have him right where I need him. Logan’s passionate gaze leaves my breath shaky and my body fuzzy. The air is thick, and the nerves aren't going away.
“You're babysitting the joint. Are you gonna hit it or just keep holding it, darling?” He asks me, breaking me out of my thoughts. Logan always looks good, but he especially looks good when he stares at me with those low hanging glossy eyes.
“What? Oh yeah! Sorry about that, here.” I let out a breathy giggle as I passed him the joint.
He simply responds with a laugh before inhaling the smoke. Logan knows what he's doing to me. He's pulling my strings like a puppet, and I'm loving every minute of it.
In an attempt to break up the tension, I turn to Logan. “Enough about me. How are your classes going? It must get tough balancing missions and classes sometimes. I don't know how you do it, to be honest.”
“Yeah it can get you worked up a little. I've been doing it for a while now, though, so it's definitely less of a hassle than it used to be. Some missions still knock you out, though.”
“Yeah I can only imagine how that must be. Some of the missions you've told me about are absolutely insane. Can't believe you come back from all that and still teach, too."
“Well it helps when you have a pretty literature teacher holding it down while you're gone.”
I smile up at him as a laugh escapes my lips. “My God, Logan, what is up with you tonight! You got a little crush on me or something?”
“Pshhh. Don't get a big head now. You're a cocky little thing, aren't you?”
“I might be cocky but you're the one adding fuel to the fire.” I responded. The effects of the weed are hitting me strongly. My relaxation brings me the confidence to take his hand and hold the joint up to my lips. I keep eye contact with him as I draw in the smoke. He smirks down at me as a result of the action.
“Y'know I've been thinking…”
I cut him off, “Oh no, that's never good”
He looks at me with a face of fake annoyance. “With all of this stress you've got going on, it would be nice to escape for a bit. Get away from these kids for a day and hit the town on the weekend. Maybe even get some dinner.”
“Wait a minute…are you asking me out, Professor?’ I ask him with a smile on my face.
“That depends on your answer, Professor.”
“I think I can fit some time in my very busy calendar for little ‘ol Logan.”
“Aww how sweet of you.” He jokes back.
He holds the joint up to my lips and watches as I breathe in the smoke. Any kind of anxiety I had before is gone now. The air shifts and is now filled with a different kind of tension. Stars reflect in Logan’s red eyes. I stare back at him as his eyes follow my lips. I'm filled with happiness to know that he wants this just as much as me. A soft hand cups my jaw as he brings his head closer to mine. My nose is filled with the scent of Logan and weed. Our warm breaths entangle each other in the cold night.
“Gimme some.” He tells me.
I release the smoke from my lips, and he quickly attaches his lips to mine. He inhales my smoke and quickly unlocks his lips from mine, exhaling the smoke.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Anytime.” I whisper back. My heart is beating out of my chest. Everything he does to me heats up my soul. That familiar fuzzy feeling greets me in between my thighs. Logan is getting tired of restraining himself, and it's easy to tell. I'm sure he can hear the way my heart erupts for him. I love this game he's playing.
Just then, he takes his hand and guides it to the back of my neck. Looking into my eyes for reassurance, I respond with a nod. Just like that, he kisses me. The kiss is strong and concentrated. Everything about the way he moves tells me that he's been wanting this for a while. His kisses are sloppy in all the right ways. Logan flicks the joint off the roof without a second thought, knowing that he has something much more valuable in his hands. He gladly explores my body and groans into my mouth with pleasure.
Logan and I most definitely didn't get around to grading those papers that night.
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