#I’m just going for a quick drink and not like an outing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trendywaifus · 3 days ago

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↳ you know you’re better than this.

featuring — anya x gn! reader (mouthwashing)

no, i don’t write for mouthwashing, there’s just not any anya content.

cw: dark themes, mentions of sexual abuse, abuse, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting, blood, implications of suicide, character deaths, controlling behavior, triggering themes, angst, panic attack, reader is fresh out of medical school, barely hurt and comfort

6 weeks before the crash.

“ guess who~? “

you croon, playfully hovering your hands over the onyx haired woman’s eyes as you snuck up behind her in the med room. anya was standing in front of the sink, quietly washing her hands. a soft giggle rolls off her smiling lips, body language relaxed,

“ hmm, daisuke?”

you snicker, “ i didn’t know i was a silly boy.”

anya hums thoughtfully while the faucet still runs and her hands soaking wet. “ captain? “

“ yes it is i, the big softie blond with curls! “ you proclaimed, goofily deepening your voice to make the voice of the captain, curly. if curly was here, he definitely would of made fun of your half-baked impression of him. anya lets out a bubbly laugh that makes the corner of your lips curl upwards even more. you fight the urge to hug her from behind and squeeze her silly from how wondrous she is. to think you get to be on a space trip with the woman you love and admire deeply makes you wanna float through the endlessly sea of stars and wonder.

“ now that I guessed you right, can i finish washing my hands and greet my lover properly? “ anya asks in a jovial tone.

“ mhmm~ “ you removed your hands away from her eyes and backed off so she can finish washing her hands. it takes a few moments for anya to finish. she turns the faucet off, grabs a paper towel from the dispenser, and wipes her hands off. after throwing the crumbled paper towel in the small bin, she turns around to finally face you. despite her hues resembling a gloomy grey, they brighten as they drink you in. anya immediately seeks for you, wrapping her arms around your frame and gently brushes up against you. you gladly reciprocate the loving gesture, running a delicate up her back and let it rest on her upper back.

“ so, how’s evaluations going three months in? “ you asked, pressing a quick kiss to her brow, “ has the others evaluations been okay? no crazy confessions yet right? “ you inquired with a teasing voice. anya is far experienced in psychology than you are so you leave the evaluations to her. and because anya’s more outgoing and hands-on, you felt like anya’s more capable of taking on medic role. you were luckily squeezed on this ship as a last minute intern similar to daisuke for the experience. six people on a four-man ship is so far quite the experience. you try not to get in the way of the others and besides anya, you mostly interact with curly and daisuke.

anya pauses, recalling her memories from the monthly evaluations.

“ hm. .—oh! daisuke. .a very bright and funny boy that really puts himself out there. he inspires me to be more optimistic. ugh, he’s also disgustingly lucky when it comes to those board games we play. “ her lips ball up in a cute pout, you laugh, “

“ stop saying he’s lucky, anya. you’re just being a sore loser. just accept that he’s better than you at board games! “

anya playfully rolls her eyes, “ oh hush. don’t tell me you’re on his side. “

you smirked, “ i’m on your side, beautiful—buttt i’m still gonna hand you the truth. lovingly. “

anya tells you about the other three evaluations, curly, swansea, and jimmy. her voice is light-hearted when she talks about curly. she describes him as being kind but a bit reserved. he never talks much about himself. everyone has their own story and perhaps even some like him chooses to not tell his as it’s locked away behind the fleshy walls of his bleeding heart. when anya got to swansea, her tone is the same but it’s dampens a bit; melancholic. she describes the crude mechanic as a man who’s been through a lot in life and still lives on despite his struggles. despite how rough he acts, there’s something about him that makes you feel sorry for him. there’s a sort of loneliness that clings to him like the fresh scent of dry balls after drying your clothes in a dryer. however, you can tell that daisuke’s light is smearing onto the much older man’s demeanor. he’s a little more livelier, although very rough on the edges—swansea expresses his care for daisuke in a tough love kinda way.

when anya finally gets to the gruff brunette man, the atmosphere shifts. her words holds a certain weight to them that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. her voice is meek and reluctant as she talks about his recent evaluation. you pick up on anya’s careful wording and brief pauses during it. she rests her cheek against your shoulder, holding you visibly tighter as if she’s trying to ground herself through you. anya says that he doesn’t really take his evaluation seriously and makes particularly sarcastic comments at her. great. you don’t like jimmy because there’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. was it that permanent mean look on his face? that judgmental look in his hooded, brown eyes whenever he passes by you in the hallways? what could have you possibly done to him to make him look at you like that? you don’t really talk to him and care more for curly. he is the leader and main pilot after all.

“ . .if he’s making you uncomfortable, i can do his evaluations for you. psychological evaluations require a one on one session and i can do it while you’re outside of the door.” you mutter, rubbing loose circles into anya’s back.

your lover stays silent for a moment. “ . . .no, i can handle it. but, you standing behind the door instead puts me a little more at ease though, haha. “

“ of course. anya, look at me. “ and she does, pulling her head away to peer at you with those pretty, upturned eyes of hers. a tender palm cups her cheek. anya’s skin feels warm and soft to the touch. “ if anything happens, you’ll tell me right? i may only be the intern but i will absolutely raise hell for you. “

anya smiles at you warmly at you, grayish eyes twinkling with endearment. she leans in and kisses your lips. “ i prefer that you not to because i’d hate for you to get booted into space by the crew. “ she remarks jokingly in between brief kisses.

“ hmm. “ you bring your lips to the bridge of her nose, under the tender flesh of her eye, everywhere until she’s a smiling mess. “ we’ll have to see about that. “

5 weeks before the crash.

restless, you exhale as you blankly stare at the white ceiling. due to anya’s head laying on your chest and her body nuzzled against your side, you can hardly change positions or get up, really. you don’t want to wake her up either.

“ can’t sleep? “ she whispers out gently, her hand that was intertwined with yours, lightly squeezed.

“ mmm, not really. did i wake you up with my defeated sighs, anya? “

“ . . kinda. but i’m use to this by now since this is a habit you like to do when you can’t sleep, (name).”you can hear the fond smile in her voice. after two years of dating, anya’s able to read and soak up your habits. she’s so attentive to your mannerisms, knows when you’re apprehensive by the twitching of your fingers and eyes. she knows when you’re happy, sad—it’s quite ridiculous how could someone so knowledgeable like her is struggling to get accepted to med school several times while it only took you once to get in. you’re not a registered nurse prior to getting into med school or anything like that. yes, you worked really hard—but lets admit it; you were just simply lucky to get in. lucky and currently hundred thousand dollars in debt after finishing.

“ i’ll let you sleep. i think i will just sneak into med bay to finish reading the social animal. i wanna be good at psychology as my awesome, future wife is.” you asked, pressing a chaste kiss on her temple.

anya laughs sleepily, “ oh, stop it. you’re not going to fall asleep in there, are you? “

“ of course not! i’ll come back to you once i’m feeling tired. but, if you miss me or have a nightmare, you know where to find me~ “

she removes her head off your chest and breaks away from you with a soft pout. “ i suppose so. “

you get up from the bed and dipped down to kiss the tip of her pretty roman nose. “ buh bye for now, beautiful. ” you coo, adjusting the blanket back over her body.

“ see you, hun. “

you slip on your slippers and walked out of your shared cabin. besides the sound of the low humming noise of the ship, silence fills the void of the still atmosphere. it’s surprisingly chilly as you exit the sleeping quarters and walk through the narrow-like hallways to medical. your footsteps softly bounces throughout the metal walls and your distorted shadow follows behinds you. there’s a churning feeling in your gut as you walk and walk. was it really okay to skip off to medical at the middle of “night” just to read? wouldn’t it have suffice to simply stay and talk to anya until you were able to fall asleep?

your eye twitch and your fingers curl ever so slightly.

should you just go back to her?

“ hey, you’re still “up.”

a rough voice calls out, ripping you away from your thoughts. you stop walking. your eyes wander over to the source and a shiver runs down your spine. jimmy, still in his jumpsuit, stands by the hallway leading to the cockpit. there’s a sense of uneasiness in the air as his quiet gaze lingers on you, waiting for your response.

“ yeah, can’t sleep. “ you say in a deadpan voice, “ what about you? “

jimmy runs his fingers through his tousled chocolate locks before shrugging. “ same as you. but i’m just taking a aimless stroll. where you headin’ to? “

none of your business.

“ medical. “

there’s something in his eyes that visibly changes; a taunting glint that has you side-eyeing him. a corner of his thin lips curl into a subtle, smug smirk.

“ you’re a little ways to go, dr. intern. “

you roll your eyes and start walking pass him, “ i know. at least i know where to go, mr. co pilot. “

jimmy clicks his tongue behind you, muttering something under his breath before his footsteps become distant in your ears. you turn your head, throwing a quick glance over your shoulder. you see his tall silhouette walking down the direction towards the sleeping quarters. “ smug fuck, i hope you sleep like shit tonight. “ you murmur, trying your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your tummy.

with a tired sigh, you slumped in the chair, turning one of many pages you gone through. the ticking clock in the background occasionally hits your ears as your fingers lazily drum against the pristine white surface of the desk. your droopy (e/c) eyes skim across a quote that leaves the remainder of your conscious mind wondering.

reason and emotion are not separate and opposed. reason is nestled upon emotion and dependent upon it. emotion assigns value to things, and reason can only make choices on the basis of those valuations. the human mind can be pragmatic because deep down it is romantic.

“is it wrong to use only reasoning to make a decision devoid of emotion . .? or is it actually wrong to let your emotions influence your decisions and reasoning? ” you sleepily muse to yourself.

oh, being human is so complicated.

your head perk up at the medbay door sliding open. surprise is written all over your face once you see a seemingly shaken up anya walking inside. her arms are tucked to her chest, hands clutching her elbows.“ anya? it’s only been. .two hours? you had a nightmare already? “ you asked worriedly, standing up from the desk to make your way over to her.

“ i. .y-yes, it was t-terrible. .” anya whispers in a quivering voice. her head is down, avoiding eye contact. you try to grasp her elbow and lure her into your arms but she violently flinches from your touch.

pulling away quickly, your face contorts into a look of worry. “ baby? “

teary-eyed, anya quickly lifts up her head, mustering a shaky smile. “ oh dear, i-i’m sorry. i-i’m just still quite shaken up from the nightmare, h-haha. i need a minute or so to recoup myself. can i stay here with you? “ anya sometimes get nightmares but it was only due to stress. she never had a nightmare that got her like this.

“ . .of course. you don’t even have to ask. here, you can sit on one of those beds. “ carefully, you ghost your hand over the small of her back as you guide her to a bed. she quietly sits down with a soft sniffle and you follow suit. your heart squeezes at the sound of her soft hiccups and the sight of her head down. you can hardly see her face due to her saber strands hanging down. “ can. .is it safe for me to have my arm around you? “

she meekly bobs her head and you delicately curl an arm around her, taking note of her body momentarily stiffening up before gradually relaxing. “ do you want to talk about your nightmare? “

it takes her a moment to reply. “ . . no. i don’t really remember much of it now anyways. “

you frown, leaving it at that despite wanting to push for more. anya always remember her nightmares. there’s something that’s eating away at your gut and it’s making you anxious. you gnaw at your lip and your eyes twitch. you should be focusing on her. whatever you’re feeling right now is the result of your overthinking. you should trust her. it was just a rare, horrible nightmare that gotten her like this.

things can happen unexpectedly without an explanation.

perhaps you shouldn’t push for an answer and leave it alone?

1 week before the crash.

“ hah! i win! in your face! “ daisuke laughs in triumphant, placing his pink piece over on the next move that solidifies his victory. anya groans loudly next to you, crossing her arms and pouts like a kid who gotten their toy taken away. “ this is unbelievable! i almost had it! “

you laughed, “ better luck next time, anya. it seems like the kid has a brighter future than you when it comes to board games! “

ever since that night, anya’s been uncharacteristically a little distant and jumpy. she’d always seek for your touch. but now, she seems reluctant to touch you first. whenever you try to show anya any kind of affection, it takes her a moment to reciprocate. you can’t really surprise her now or she’ll get visibly startled. anya has trouble sleeping and wakes up from the any sound or movement so you have to be still. for the past four weeks, you tried to ask her about her abnormal behavior, and she’d tell you vague reasons like, “ i just haven’t been feeling well. “ or “ that nightmare got to me more than i thought, i’m sorry. “

you’re worried about her—even her smiles are dampened with a sliver of sadness behind them. you really want to help but you don’t know how. it feels like she’s slowly putting a wall between you, her, and her true feelings. at least right now she’s like her old self again. you’re glad.

“ hey guys. having fun in here, huh? “ curly and jimmy walks inside the lounge. the blond waves at the three of you with a welcoming smile while jimmy awkwardly stood behind him.

“ yeah! i was able to beat anya this time! isn’t that right, anya? “

“ mhm, but as usual, it was luck. “ anya says softly, her voice lacking the enthusiasm as it did before. she tucks her arms into her chest. you flash her a look of concern. there it is again, the churning feeling in your belly. why did her mood sour like that? was it because of curly and jimmy’s arrival? your eyes travel back to the two men, quietly observing them. curly ruffles daisuke’s hair as he stood behind the couch daisuke is sitting on. he’s completely focused on talking to daisuke. your gaze transition over to jimmy and his eyes meet with yours.

that same glint he had in his eyes a few weeks ago, has you feeling more than uneasy. then, your mind suddenly flashes back to the subtle smirk he had and him walking back to the direction of the sleeping quarters. not too long after him going over there and you lounging in medbay, anya joins you, trembling and barely wanting you to touch her. you thought about her saying it was a bad nightmare and didn’t remember enough to tell you the details of it. like what you thought about before, anya always remembers her nightmares and only gets them due to stress.

the horrible realization starts to sink in and your heart drops to the very pits of your stomach. it drowns in a sea of dread.

oh god, did he go to her while you were. . .?

you feel sick. why did you ignore that gut feeling in your stomach during your walk to medbay back then? why didn’t you stay with anya? why did you just figure this out now?

you stand up unexpectedly, startling everyone.

“ (name)? what’s the matter? “ anya asks with clear worry. throat dry, you gathered up the strength to cast her a assuring smile that doesn’t reach your eyes in which she notices right away.

“ i. .i need to go to the restroom. i’ll be back everyone. . “

you quickly slide the bathroom door behind you. unable to hold your own weight anymore, you fall to your knees. there’s a suffocating feeling in your chest that’s causing your breathing to become uneven. your mind races back to the evaluations and how uncomfortable anya looked every time she had to do jimmy’s. yes, you stood behind the door to provide her some “security” in the recent weekly evaluations, but god, you actually let her be in the same room alone with this man? her assaulter? you did basically nothing but blindly trusted her words and ignored your intuition.

maybe anya didn’t want to tell you because she knew that you’d make a big uproar out of it, thus making the situation possibly even worse?

or maybe she was afraid you’d look at her differently?

. . .or maybe jim threatened her to not tell the crew?

t r u s t

she kept this in all this time and gave these inconsistent reasons that you knew was out of character for her to make up. . and yet. .you ignored the obvious signals and trusted her anyway. all you had to do was listen to your gut feeling and sit down with her to talk. all you had to say was that you were there for her and you’ll listen to anything she has to say if she wants to talk. you’d do anything for her—anything. even if it meant the cost of your internship which matters practically nothing to you. it’s not like the company was worth shit anyways. what fucking company doesn’t implement locks on doors in rooms where their own employees sleep in? what company just allows someone like him in?

tears bubble in your eyes as you grit your teeth, seething in frustration. you bite down on your bottom until the thin layer skin easily rips and starts to bleed. you bawl your hands into tight fists, nails dig into your palm until moon crescents dig into the flesh. you’re so horrible.

you feel so sick.

this is what she must of felt but much much worse.

you can’t even imagine how she had to process what happened all alone in the dark and walk through the long corridors in dead silence just to get to medbay, to you. you can’t imagine how it feels to hide something so traumatic from everyone while gathering up your broken shards of identity in silence. you don’t blame her—you can never blame her from hiding what happened between her and jimmy. you can only blame yourself for being ignorant and not fully realizing how dangerous he truly is.

your stomach turns upside down and you feel the sudden need to vomit. you scrambled over to the toilet and puke your guts out. series of fat tears roll down your cheeks.

“ ugh. .” you coughed hoarsely, hunched over.

you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick—

a few firm knocks on the bathroom door made you freeze.

anya’s concerned voice calls out behind the bathroom door. “ (name), are you alright? are you feeling well? “

you couldn’t even respond properly without hacking which gave yourself away immediately. alerted by your excessive coughing, she successfully slides the door open and rushes inside to your aid.

you never locked the door behind you, did you?

“ i’m here, (name). please, let it all out. “ anya rubs your back soothingly, not bothered by the drool and vomit spilling from your lips. you feel embarrassed under the worried, gentle gaze of anya. she whispers comforting words as you finishing vomiting. she grabs some paper towels and silently offers to wipe your face. you shake your head and gingerly take the towels from her hands and do it yourself.

anya opens her mouth to speak but you interrupt her.

“ it’s funny, “ you half laughed and sobbed, “ how you were able to come in so quickly just as i realized the door wasn’t locked. “

anya’s eyes widen with shock and looks as if she was about to burst into tears.

1 month after the crash.

“ anya, sweetheart? “ you gently call out to her before resting a hand on anya’s shoulder as stood by the sink, soaking curly’s bandages with soap and water. the fresh bandages are slowly starting to run out because of curly’s nonstop bleeding. you and anya both agreed to clean and reuse the bandages after one use to maintain the supply.

she still slightly jumps and turns her head around with a soft smile. “a-ah! s-sorry, (name). what’s wrong? “

“ let me clean the bandages and give captain his meds. you’ve been standing there for the past forty minutes. sit out in the lounge, okay? after watching you the first few times, i know what to do. “

a look of uncertainty dwells on her face as she ponders over your words. gingerly, you place a hand over her stomach. “ please, anya? i’ve seen how uncomfortable you look when you do this for him, you don’t have to hide it from me because i’m your lover. we’ve talked about this. i’ll do anything i can to shoulder your burden and make sure that you’re not pushing your body. “

anya’s grey hues flicker with appreciation and a twinge of guilt. “ okay, i’ll go sit down. if you need me, please holler out. i-i hate to make you do this after—“

“ anya. “ you interrupt her, reaching out to cradle her pale cheeks. they feel warm under your palms. your gaze pools into her own. “ anything. “ you whisper, resting your forehead against hers. anya’s lips pursue in a thin line. you know she wants to object but she swallows her words without anything to wash it down with, leaving behind a bitter taste. you lift your chin to press a lingering kiss to anya’s forehead.

tentatively, anya walks out of the medical, leaving you and a shell of a man in the room alone. a deep sigh runs past your lips and you go over to the half–foamed up desk to quietly grab a bottle of pain meds. “ captain. “ you mutter, walking over to the bed where he permanently lays. what a pitiful sight to witness. curly resembles a meat bag, his limbs left horribly mutated and amputated, his once tan skin is now all gone and long burned off. he’s stripped from his protection and only his vulnerable muscles are exposed. his only eye, wide and blue, stares up at you. you stare back blankly. through a singular sea of blue, you see a mass of fear, pain, and most of all, regret.

“ i don’t hate you, captain, “ you pop the bottle open. “ i’m sure anya doesn’t either. well, anya wouldn’t bring herself to hate you even if she wanted to anyways. “

he doesn’t respond but his permanent wide–eyed gaze continues to stare you down.

“ i’ll give you 5mg of oxycodone before i do your bandages. i’ll give you your second dose afterwards.”

you shake out two pills from the bottle. “ . . .all of this isn’t really your fault. misguided karma can be cruel. however, “ you slowly opened his jaw, the slimy sound of his muscles moving against each other makes you cringe. you see why anya can get more nauseated off of this. “ misplaced trust in a bitter person who’s undeserving of trust in the first place is what gets someone like you in a position like this. “

you hold his jaw, his exposed, irritated muscles twitch erratically against your protective layer of skin. your stomach swirls with a sinking feeling. curly starts to breath heavily, his pupil dilates. you hold one pill between your index finger and thumb. hot tears prickle at the corner of your twitching eyes as a shaky grin stretches across your face, and a bead of sweat rolls down your brow. you feel sick to the utter depths of your stomach.

“ don’t struggle , yeah? “

this wasn’t your worst moment right , curly?

0 days before the crash.

“ curly, fuck, where did he walk away to? “ you stopped curly in the middle corridors, pulling him back by his broad shoulder with a firm hand. curly, who’s face is full of panic and confusion, frantically responds back. “ i-i don’t know but i’m going to go find him to try and talk—“

“ i-i’m sorry, talk? this goes beyond talking at this fucking point! that fucking dog assaulted anya and she’s pregnant! “ you spat, heart full of frustration, “ do you think talking to her assaulter is going to fix shit? do you think doing the bare minimum is going to take back what she went through?! “

he runs a trembling hand through his blond curls. “ i-i understand but—fuck, let me just try—and—and, “

your hand drops to your side and you send him a look of utter disappointment. “ un—fucking—believable. how many times did anya tell you about jimmy? did you know about his shitty behavior even before she got pregnant? assaulted? she doesn’t want to tell me the answer so i’m fucking asking you! “

he stays slient, the guilty expression dawning on his face says it all.

“ . .what a great leader you are, captain. “ you growled, “ allowing that shitty friend of yours to ride this ship and you do barely nothing until the situation blows up in your face. this is what happens when you let your personal emotions dilute your judgment and reason as a leader. this is the outcome. the crew is my responsibility, my ass. if i had it my way, i would of shoved his ass in the cryo pod the second i’ve found out. but alas, i’m not the fucking leader but a damn intern. i held it allll in for a week for this shit? just imagine how anya felt to endure the awful trauma longer than that only for you, the captain, the only person with power, to handle it so horribly. fool.”you turn your heels and stomping back to medical for anya.

4 months after the crash.

“ daisuke. . kiddo, “ you gently call out to him as you find him somberly laying on his back next to the area leading to the cargo. his forearm rests over his eyes.

“ you okay? “

“ no, not really. .it’s just. .i wonder what my mother thinks right now. .she’s probably thinking i’m finally putting my feet into the water, finally learning and figuring out what i should to do in life during this internship. .meanwhile i’m on my back getting wasted off of. .mouthwash. ”

you sit down next to him. you thought about what to say for a prolonged moment before asking him,

“ before all of this, did you enjoy the internship? “

“ i. . .i did. .i was having fun . .with swansea, anya, you, a-and . . “

daisuke lets out a soft sniffle, you just smile solemnly.

“ don’t cry, sunshine. as long as you enjoyed yourself, that’s all that matters. even in the predicament we’re in now. .let’s have hope. once all of this is over, your mother will be proud that you got through this internship and you should tell her allll about what you did and learned with the ol’ man swansea. that man is a hot mess but i know he enjoys you as his intern.”

“ . . .really? “ he meekly asks, peeking at you from under his forearm with teary eyes. god, daisuke looks like a sad puppy.

“ of course, kiddo. “ you force out a happy laugh to appease him. you hate to lie to him but as long as jimmy is attempting to play captain, the situation will continue to spiral down into the abyss. you know with absolute certainty that jimmy was the one who caused the ship to crash. the fact that man pinned the blame on his close friend, who was trying to see good in him, for crashing the ship is beyond disgusting. judging from curly’s recent evaluation from anya before the crash, he did seem a little melancholic. but, for him to drastically make a reckless decision to sabotage the ship and everyone in it? he wouldn’t do that even if it was on his mind. jimmy on the other hand. .

“ oh. .it seems like you beat me to him. is he alright?”anya’s relieved voice rings in your ears. you draw your attention over to your partner who’s walking down the corridor towards you and daisuke. she uncrosses her arms that was once tucked to her chest and you raise a brow.

“ yeah, just a little sad but i was talking to him. how’d you know he was here? “

her gaze averts to the ground and you jump up, anger bubbles in your chest. “ jimmy, wasn’t it? what did he do? he didn’t hurt or yell at you or anything, did he? “

you pace over to her and rest your hands on her shoulders. “ no, no—seriously, i’m okay. . he sent me here to check on daisuke while he took care of some things. i was just surprised you were here. “ it had to be more then that.

sighing heavily, you turn back to daisuke who was now attempting to get back on his feet. “ daisuke, be careful. .has swansea been making you drink that mouthwash stuff again with him? “ you questioned skeptically, walking over to him to assist him back on his feet. wobbling, the brunette boy softly groans as you let him rest his arm loosely around your shoulders for support.

“. .no. .yeah. . i. .may. .kinda, totally have went overboard with it this time. b-but i gave it to jimmy because i didn’t wanna mess with it anymore. “

aggravated, you smack your teeth, “ so you’re saying that he saw you like that and didn’t even bother to help you up himself and sends anya down here instead? i’m so sick of his shit! some fuckin’ wannabe captain he is! you could of threw up and choked on your own damn vomit! that careless fucker knew that! “

“ you’re starting to sound like swansea. “ daisuke mutters through his drunken haze.

anya speaks up in a soft voice that’s mean to calm you. “ (name), you have to calm down. i understand that you’re upset. .but we need to rest daisuke down somewhere in the lounge. “

your eye twitch and your lips purse. she was right. plus, you don’t want daisuke to hear all of this while he’s struggling with his own inner conflicts. even the effects of the dire situation is dawning down on him and taking a toll on his mental health.

but fuck, you’re tired of being quiet.

d o s o m e t h i n g

? ? ¿ ! months before the ????

you can’t sleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips. anya’s body lightly stirs besides you. you don’t want to leave her but it’d be right to check up on curly to see if he needs his meds. there’s no time clock but curly’s groaning and restlessness indicates you that it’s time for his painkillers. if he is in pain, you’ll just give him his meds and come back to anya. it’s been a straight shot to the medical room ever since the crash. the foam has completely fucked up the sleeping quarters. . maybe it’s for the better or worse now. everyone is bunched together in the lounge room with extra sleeping beds from the medical. luckily, there hasn’t been any problems amongst the crew and it’s easier to keep in eye on jimmy.

“ anya, “ you whispered out to her. she lays on her left side, facing you. pieces of her shaggy hair prettily hovers over her tired eyes as they fluttered open. “ yeah? “ she responds back, you send her a small smile, reaching out to brush the strands away from her face.

“ i’m going to go check up on captain in the medical. i’ll. .be back, okay? if this dumb thing goes off, “ you gesture to the broken robot standing an inch away from you and anya’s sleeping bags. thankfully it’s able to go off, albeit broken thanks to jimmy. originally, anya suggested the idea and you couldn’t agree more with it.

“ i’ll be running to you so fast like how i did after i found out that passed my final exams. “ you whispered playfully.

recalling the joyful memory, a soft giggle leaves anya’s lips. she remembered you were so anxious and restless over the final exams that she kept having to pinch you and make you run with her to get your mind off of things. once you found out that you passed med school, you ran so fast to anya while she was waiting outside of the campus for you and nearly ran her over. she nods with a beautiful smile that you missed so much. anya was always a carefree woman who was willing to go through hardships with a cool–mind and solutions. but, after this overhaul trip going downhill and the terrible shit that’s happened and is currently happening—the light in her eyes is duller. it mirrors her reserved and almost timid-like behavior now.

that’s not who anya is—that’s not her and that’s not who she should by the damages of a terrible, insecure man who refuses to swallow down his own ever-growing problems like a hard pill and take responsibility for his self-sabotaging actions. you bet he’d choke on himself and self-destruct if he ever tried swallowing. all he ever does is vomit and project himself onto others.

“ okay. we can also clean his bandages after we’ve rested. “ anya suggests.

you shake your head, ghosting a hand over her belly. the bump has slowly been getting bigger but isn’t very noticeable to others. “ there’s no we, just me. the last time you got nauseated, you asked jimmy to give curly his meds while i was busy with daisuke and. .he. .” you trailed off and sighed with frustration. you still can’t get over anya telling you the truth about jimmy getting frustrated at her for asking him to give curly his meds because of her nausea.

absolutely horrible.

before anya can say anything, you give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

“ i’ll be back this time. “

you got up carefully to not alert the broken robot and paced towards medical. as you did, you glanced around the lounge to see who’s in their respective sleeping bags.

daisuke is laid out asleep.

swansea has been sleeping by the utility and now you know why he was does. you don’t have any objections to it. it’s only fair for the sunshine to be preserved.

jimmy is no where to be found. cockpit, maybe?

as you near the medical, alarming sounds of struggling and curly’s groans made your heart drop. frantically, you sprinted towards the door and slammed it open.

s e c o n d c h a n c e

“ wh-what the fuck are you doing, jimmy?! g-get off of him! “ her

you ran over to the self-proclaimed captain who was hunching over the defenseless curly, shoving pills into his mouth and down his throat while beating at his stomach. with all of your strength, you shoved jimmy backwards, pulling him away from curly’s mutilated body, who helplessly laid there in the bloodied medical bed, crying and groaning in pain.

“ are you out of your fucking mind, you crazy fuck?!”you screamed at him while he has this mixed, horrid look of panic and frustration on his unshaven face. the pill bottle clutched in his hand made a loud rattling noise as he drops them on the tile floor and it rolls next to you.

“ i-i— h-he was. .m-making too much n-n—oomph! “

thanks to your adrenaline, you shoved him—hard, causing him to stumble back against the desk. pill bottles tumble and crash onto the floor.

hurried footsteps approach the medical from the loud crashes and yelling.

“ so your fucking solution was to beat up that poor man who can’t even goddamn defend himself now? let me fucking remind you since you’re too busy trying to play captain and can’t take responsibility! that man is laying there, the way he is now, because of—ugh! “

in a burst fit of blind rage, he returns the favor and presses his heavy palms against your chest, harshly shoving you backwards. you try to maintain your balance, but your foot accidentally steps on one of the pill bottles, and you fall backwards onto the solid floor, hitting your head. hard.

crack!

you almost instantly black out. not before hearing a loud gasp and anya’s frantic shouting.

“ (name)! j-jimmy. . . at . .did. . .u do?! “

¿!!! ?????????

just me and you vs the world, anya.

“ seriously? this show is so horrible, anya! even my dad who has terrible taste in tv shows, can’t watch this! “ you groaned exaggeratedly, sinking your cheek into your palm, slouching on the elbow of the couch. anya shrugs with a smug smile, placing the tv remote down on the coffee table.

“ well that’s tooo bad, hun. i need to binge this show to clear my mind out completely. all i need is my go-to-combo i usually get from wendy’s. “

you roll your eyes, “ it could of been at least mcdonald’s or something. but. .wendy’s? “

“ they have the best frosties! don’t act you dislike it because they messed up your order once. “ she giggles, leaning over to playfully hit at your ankle.

the show starts and you can barely stomach it. you don’t understand how she zeros out her mind from watching this stuff. it’s so cheesy and bad.

you peer over at anya and just as expected, she’s watching it like she’s into it. anya’s sitting up against the couch, legs crossed while she’s wearing a oversized t-shirt and pajamas. her heap of black shaggy hair that reaches just below her shoulders, was beautifully messy. usually at night, she doesn’t really bother with it. her fair skin shines pretty under the tv light. her pretty lashes fluttering and downturned eyes glistening with interest as she watch the corny reality tv show—god, she’s so breathtaking.

“ so, anya. “ you speak up as soon as the tv cuts to commercials. her undivided attention draws over to you and you cast her a goofy, suggestive smile.

“ while this commercial runs, wanna makeout? “

she blinks at you several times as if to process your question and bursts out laughing.

“ ewwww! “

“ ewwww? what the hell, baby! c’meree. “ you get off the elbow of the couch to playfully grab and pull at the laughing anya’s arm to pull her closer.

“ we’re not some bored teenager couple, you know! “

you successfully pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her body. “ feels like we are when i’m with youu~ “ you coo, puckering your lips at her with teasing intent.

anya blocks your lips with her palm and you immediately lick at it. she gasps and retracts her hand away, allowing you the opportunity to topple her over and kiss all over her pretty face and pouty lips.

“ hehe, (name)! “

once you’re done with your barrage, you bury your face into her neck.

“ marry me once me and you become doctors, anya~ ” you croon, melting into her body.

there’s a momentary pause before her smiling voice responds to you, full of adoration,

“ of course. i wouldn’t have it any other way, (name).”

??? ??¿ is it finally over ??¿!

your eyes peel open, a surge of sharp pain and confusion shoots through your body like a needle. but, once your gaze immediately locks onto the woman you love above you, your heart calms a little. she doesn’t notice that you’re now awake and stares off into somewhere with brooding eyes.

“ a-anya? “

anya’s eyes widen and she snaps her gaze down at you in surprise as your head is currently laid on her lap. tears swell in the corner of her reddened eyes.

“ y-you’re awake again! i-i thought you were finally. .”

despite not being able to move your body from the waist under and through the pain pounding in your head, you smile weakly at her.

“ f-finally what? i-i told you i’ll come back to you. although. . .“ your eyes search the dim setting around you. it’s blurred and bright. it seems like you and anya are in the medical? didn’t you come back from medical after checking up on curly?

c o n f u s i o n

“ why aren’t we in bed? we’re in medical right now. . “

anya’s lips trembles as she struggles to not cry.

“ we’ve decided to rest in here and talk like we’re a bored teenage couple. “

you let out a weak laugh. “ r-really? my br-brain is all over the place right now. everything is starting to feel and look fuzzy. “

your eyes starts to dilate and unfocus but they never leave anya. she says nothing, and quietly caresses your cheek.

your skin has become more discolored while you were unconscious.

how many hours?

how many hours has it been since she locked herself with you and captain? and how many times has her thoughts endlessly ponder and ponder over jimmy’s words he once said to her months back?

t a k e c a r e o f i t

“ a-anya. .? “

anya forces out a smile. her quivering fingers brush away the sweaty hair sticking to your forehead.

my hands are s h a k i n g.

“ . .y-yes? “ anya can barely contain the heartbreak in her voice.

“ w-we’ll take of it together. “ you slurred, “ o-once i get my l-license, i’ll support us and you don’t need to w-worry about a thing. o-once the baby is born, i’ll take care of them while you st-study to get into medical school again. i-i’ll. .even help you. .too. i st-still have my. .notes. “

dark red liquid seeps down your nose. she sees the light becoming dull in your dilated (e/c) hues that she adored so much.

the external bleeding and swelling in your head is pulling you under.

a quiet sob slips from her throat and she gently brings your head up to her chest. her body shudders as she weeps.

there’s a few broken whimpers that sounds far too strangled to be hers or yours.

“ . . d-don’t cry, an. .ya, i. .i’m just g-gonna sleep. y. .you holding. .me like this. .makes me feel at ease. .i. .can finally sleep. .without. .leaving. .ou. .”

your eyes vanish behind discolored eyelids and your head slack against her.

and there’s a gaping hole akin to a black hole that swallows everything that bounded her down, her dreams, her hopes, her love, her fear, her emotions.

what’s left is reason—a reason to the best decision that anya alone can finally act.

with a strangely calm mind and red-rimmed solemn grey eyes, she glances up at the few bottles of pills now left on the desk.

you know you’re better than this.

m a k e n o m i s t a k e , t h i s i s n ‘ t m y w o r s t m o m e n t.

far from it. this is the best decision i’ll ever make.

i’ll take care of it.

everything’s black—but you hear banging, voices, bottles rattling, pained whimpering and strangled noises that sounds similar to a heartbroken man crying.

you slip back into momentary consciousness. through blurred vision, you see a slumped figure above you. you can’t identify who it is but red smears leaves a bit of a hard contrast to your unfocused eyes. without thinking, your feeble hand reach out and you’re only able to make contact with their chin, just with the tips of your fingers.

from one small touch, you can tell the skin long since lost its warmth and now is cold to the touch.

an unknown sorrow strikes your chest and you finally pass with a heart full of confusion, leaving it in a headlock.

#anya x reader #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing #anya x reader mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing

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thealbatrovss · 3 days ago

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waiting // logan howlett x reader

summary: scott and jean get engaged. logan seems happy for them. but old insecurities start bubbling to the surface.

one shot: angstyyyyyy, insecure reader, happy ending of course, not proofread

word count: 1k+

authors note: getting back into writing so here’s a quick one for ya’ll. Enjoy!!!

masterlist

When he made his way towards her, with a big grin on his face, you had to get out of there.

You bumped past friends and colleagues, weaving through the bodies like a hedge maze. The room closed in. Your stomach was raging with alcohol and fire.

It was so childish. Running away from your friend's own engagement party. This night was about them, not you.

But, Logan wouldn't stop talking about how happy he was for them since they made the announcement. You were happy too. Of course you were. They were like family to you. But, was he really content with everything? Sometimes, thoughts that he was settling would cloud your mind.

You’d only been dating for little over a year now, and well, Jean was still Jean. The Jean he loves. Or loved. It was becoming too hard to tell, your head starting spinning.

The night air hit your face. It was cold, too cold to be out at a time like this. But at least there was space. Space to hold yourself on the mansion's steps and think about everything swirling in your mind.

You knew holding her up on this pedestal wasn’t fair to her, to Logan and especially yourself. But sometimes, wounds that were once sealed up and packed away, came around visiting again.

He spent years harboring feelings for her. You just stood there and watched it. Until one day, you were grabbing a late night snack from the kitchen and saw Logan sitting at the table.

And he was no longer sulking. No longer chasing after someone who was always going to pick someone else. He smiled, and told you to sit and have a beer with him.

It wasn’t an odd request. You too were friends after all. But, you ended up spending the entire night talking. You asked him about his past and he was completely honest. He asked you about yours, barely ever looking away from you as you rambled on. Logan had a soft smile on his face the entire time you talked.

The two of you moved closer together as the night progressed into the early morning. By the time students began pouring in for breakfast, your chairs and shoulders were touching. He walked you to your room that day, asked you out to dinner. You had your first date at a bar. Jalapeno poppers and chicken sandwiches. The waiter accidentally spilt his tray of drinks on Logan trying to squeeze through the aisle.

When Logan kissed you for the first time in his car, you could feel the sticky drinks stuck to his leather jacket and skin.

The door creaked open behind you. Footsteps stopped at the steps above. You could smell that familiar wood and cigar smoke. It has stuck to you ever since that night in his car. “Its fucking freezing out here.”

You brushed away a fresh well of tears, hoping they’d dry quickly so he couldn’t tell. “You’re right about that.” You sniffed. But it was your voice that gave it away.

“Whats going on?” He sat down next to you. “Could you look at me?” He moved your hair away from your face, fingers grazing the wet skin. He paused. “Can you please talk to me? Why are you crying?”

You tried brushing his hand away, making yourself smaller against the stone wall. You pushed the side of your face into the rock, like it would magically make you disappear.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know whats going on.”

“I’m just drunk.” You tried to play it off. Not good enough.

Logan shook his head. “No. That's bullshit. You’ve been acting weird all day.”

The air kept getting colder. You started shivering. Logan cursed underneath his breath, taking his jacket off and draped it over your shaking shoulders. The simple gesture made you feel even smaller. “Do you ever wish things could be different?”

Logan looked at you confused. “What kinds of things?”

You sat up, knees facing away from your boyfriend. “The people you let into your life.”

“No.” He answered quickly. “I only let in people who let in me. Like you.” He smiled at the memory of spilt beer and messy kisses in the parking lot. “So no. Why? Do you?”

You huffed. “I find that hard to believe and I hate myself for it.”

Logan sat there bewildered. You’d always been open and honest with him about everything. You even opened up to him about your insecurities surrounding his relationship with Jean the first few months into dating. The realization washed over him as he watched the party goers mingle inside. “You still think I have feelings for Jean.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

The wind picked up, sending its sharp claws against your wet cheeks. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No. I just don’t understand.” He sighed. “Why would you think that? I’m with you. I wouldn’t be if I didn’t want to be.”

The drinks settling in your stomach did the talking for you. “Well, if she wasn't with him things would be a lot different, wouldn’t they?” Your tone was as cold as the wind. You didn’t mean it to be.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You gripped his jacket tight around you. Holding onto it like you did when you first kissed. “Sometimes, it’s hard to accept your love.”

He didn’t respond, just let you continue. His hand started rubbing circles on your back.

“I feel like I’m taking something that isn’t mine.” Maybe if you were sober you could explain it better, but you carried on. “Or, I’m just holding my breath. Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

You’d feel more embarrassed without the alcohol running through your veins. But you sat there as tall as you could. Letting the insecurities bubble out in circles of angry shades of red. It wasn’t pretty, but it was real. It was what you’ve been bottling up for years now. “Waiting for it to go to its true destination.”

Logan looked up at the night sky. The wind ruffled his short hair. He looked so handsome in that all black suit he wore. One that you picked out just for him. He chuckled to himself, his eyes finding yours with a piercing gaze. He faced those words, seeing past the surface.

“I loved Jean once. That's the truth. But I’ve loved people before her. I’ve been alive for a long time.” He moved strains of hair from your face, resting his hand on your cheek. “But here’s another truth. I love you. Can’t you see that? Right here and now?”

You could see the genuine look in his eyes. You could always see it.

“And that’s not something I just give away. It’s also taken from me. You’ve taken it from me. And I’ve never been happier for you to have it, like I have yours.”

You nodded, sniffling. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, pulling you against his chest. “Don’t be. Just maybe next time, talk to me about this instead of holding it all in.”

You buried your head into his chest. Voice muffled against the dark fabric. “Says Mr. Wall builder himself.”

Logan kissed your head, fighting back the wind and a fit of laughter. “You got me there.”

#logan howlett x reader #the wolverine x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #the wolverine #ravens masterlist

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rnnsdrms · 2 days ago

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f1 drivers and popular romance tropes: charles leclerc !!

DEAREST READER. hello there! while waiting for the two-week break to end, i needed a little f1 headcanon/scenario to heal me from the famine. anyway, here’s for the leclerc fans out there! it’s funny that i’m posting his first when i actually finished oscar’s first 😂 i hope you’ll enjoy~ for more drivers, you can see my masterlist at the end of the post !

CONTENT WARNINGS. no warnings. just a heads-up that i am an 18+ blog and i prefer only adults visit my profile page. if you’re a minor, you can still read this work since it’s sfw. so, i hope everyone out there is being honest with themselves. oh, probably my fucked up english grammar because why do i care it’s pure vibes !

WORD COUNT. 998 words (ugh, so close to 1k) !

I debated with this idea, but after some time, I decided that mutual pining suits Charles Leclerc better. There is so much potential for slow-burn and comedy. It’s the kind of story where there’s already an established sense of familiarity between you and Charles, one that has existed for as long as either of you can remember. But it has never crossed into anything as intimate as being ‘lovers’. Sure, both your groups of friends always comment about how the two of you argue like a married couple and suggest you should just make it official already, but you and Charles dodge these accusations as swiftly as an F1 driver dodging a collision course.

While you and Charles may eye-roll or stick your tongue out at the sight of each other, both of you secretly wish for something more. Yet, neither dares to make a move, fearing the loss of the bond binding you and him. The platonic relationship between you and him feels comfortable, and disrupting that would seem like the foolish move of the century. So, to preserve it, you’re quick to ignore your feelings, and he does the same. As a result, pent-up, endearing emotions often spill out in the form of silly banter and subtle jealousy. The sneaky glances across the room and the lame lies told when either of you got caught staring seem endless. This routine is no different to playing a song on repeat: it’s the only thing that you’re both fixated on, apparently. At this point, provoking each other just to see what kind of reaction the other can elicit can be considered a love language. You think he’s just being annoying as usual, while he thinks you’re unbearably nosy–and it doesn’t help that he has heard of the ‘you want to kiss me so bad’ meme and he has used it against you every single time you are about to start an argument with him.

Charles Leclerc, despite being a multiple Grand Prix winner and has earned himself many titles–The Prince of Ferrari, The King of Monza, The Sun of Maranello, The Predestined–he still can’t officially call himself ‘your boyfriend’. It’s pathetic and it pisses him off. Currently one of the best drivers on the F1 grid, he has placed himself among legendary rivals, and yet, he can’t seem to place himself on the same bed as yours. Although his fame attracts the attention of high-profile celebrities and influencers, Charles has his thoughts and eyes only on you, even when he is currently surrounded by them. You, on the other hand, love to torture yourself by watching him sitting and talking with glamorous models–or just pretty women in general. He says it’s an occupational hazard, but the way you see it–or rather, feel it–it is more of an emotional hazard to you. But you’re not just going to sit around and drink your sorrows away. No. You’re going to greet and chat with his driver friends … but him.

His eyes narrow dangerously whenever he sees you hanging out with another man, even with his fellow F1 driver friends. But he starts losing his cool when he sees one of them initiate physical contact with you. While you’re giving them your best smile and laughter, Charles is already plotting how to commit a massacre on the next circuit. When you notice that he’s beginning to space out, you decide to approach him, incoming snide remarks already up your sleeve to torment Ferrari’s golden boy.

‘So,’ you start, taking the long-awaited empty seat beside him, ‘is she going to be your next in-chi-dent? Or just another pit stop?’

‘What? I’m the most charming guy in the room. I can’t help if all the ladies want a piece of me.’

‘Oh, please.’ You roll your eyes, ‘you’re about as charming as a stalled-out engine on a race day.’ You add, taking a sip of your drink.

A grin spreads across Charles’ thin lips as he leans closer to you–his chin barely above your shoulder. ‘Is that so? Funny, because I thought I’m just like Ferrari–impossible to resist.’

You try to repress the blush that is beginning to creep up your cheeks by staring at him dead in the eyes. ‘Well, since you are a Ferrari, then I guess I’m the safety car. Always having to slow you down when you get too full of yourself.’

The slight shock on Charles’ face gives you immense satisfaction, and you don’t try to hide it. But he is also quick to gain composure.

‘Or maybe, you’re just the chequered flag I’ve been racing toward all along ...’ He said, but his words seem to trail off in the wind.

It catches you off guard, and you stare at him with a questioning look, only to see Charles’ green eyes gazing at you tenderly. Oh, you hate it so much when he looks at you like that.

‘Nice try.’ You quickly cover your raging emotions with a smirk. ‘But you’re still stuck in the pits.’

• ───────────────────────────•

[ SONGS FOR THIS TROPE: Taylor Swift – Dress ✦ Sabrina Carpenter – Nonsense ✦ Arctic Monkeys – I Wanna Be Yours ✦ Gracie Abrams – Feels Like ✦ Lana Del Rey – Say Yes To Heaven ✦ Ariana Grande — goodnight n go ]

• ───────────────────────────•

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ KO-FI ˎˊ˗

RNNSDRMS™. SUPPORT WRITERS BY REBLOGGING THEIR WORK. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR POST MY WORKS ON ANY SITE. I WILL POST MY POSTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITES MYSELF AND THAT’S ALL YOU GET.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 headcanon #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾𝑆 𝐵𝑌 𝑅𝐸𝑁𝑁𝐴 #𝑆𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇: 𝐹𝑂𝑅𝑀𝑈𝐿𝐴 𝑂𝑁𝐸 #𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸: 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐿𝐸𝑆 𝐿𝐸𝐶𝐿𝐸𝑅𝐶

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just-dreaming-marvel · 10 hours ago

Text

Abuse ~ Part 2

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

< Part 1

Word Count: 4,080ish

Summary: You start to heal from Josh's abuse. Logan is there every step of the way.

Warnings: abuse (mental, physical, emotional), rape, injuries, triggers, PTSD

Notes: Seriously, do not read if this will trigger you. You are in charge of what you consume.

As soon as you could, you retreated to your room at the mansion. Clearly, someone had slipped into your apartment and grabbed some objects and clothing. You had stayed in the room occasionally, but it was weird to think that it was now your home. Nothing was how you liked it, making you feel more out of place than you already did.

Thoughts began to creep into your mind. What if you just went back to the apartment? There was a sense of normalcy there despite the abuse. Besides, you were becoming a burden. You could easily see that. Everyone was eyeing you and walking eggshells around you. You hated it. Maybe if you just—

“Hey,” Logan’s voice was quiet as he leaned against the doorframe. Nevertheless, you still jumped and spun around, heart racing. “Sorry,” he pushed himself off the frame and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “Didn’t mean to scare ya. Just checkin’ in.”

“I’m fine.” You cringed at how quickly and unbelievable that answer was.

Logan nodded, letting out a small grunt in acknowledgment of your answer. He stepped further into the room. You shakily took a step back, starting to feel cornered. Logan quickly took two steps back.

“Can I do anything?” He asked. You knew that he genuinely meant it; Logan would never ask if he didn’t.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

It sounded meaner than it should have. You were grateful for Logan’s help, but you were hating yourself for being so weak that you had to call for it. Logan knew not to take your words personally. Jean and Charles had a long talk with him about how you might act throughout your healing process, including blaming yourself and others.

“Can you go?” You turned away, trying to hide the tears quickly escaping your eyes. “I… I want to be alone right now…”

“Okay… Let me know if you need somethin’.”

Logan turned around, glancing back for another quick look at you before shutting the door behind him. He hated the idea of leaving you alone. He didn’t understand everything about what you were going through, but he understood how mean your own mind could be about yourself. He was constantly trying to prove his own destructive thoughts wrong. But Logan wouldn't let you go through that alone, not if he could do anything about it.

~~~

No one was shocked when you didn’t come down for dinner. Logan loaded up a plate of food and grabbed a drink before heading up to your room. Knocking on the door, he waited a moment for you to answer. When you didn’t answer, Logan used his senses to try to see if you were still in there. He could hear you breathing. It was steady, like you were asleep. He knew that you needed your rest, but you also needed to eat. No one knew when the last time you ate was.

Slowly, Logan opened the door and slipped inside. He set the food and drink on your desk before coming around to the side of the bed you were facing. Logan knelt down as he studied you for a moment. He didn’t know that you could ever look so relaxed and peaceful. Since he met you, you have been in a relationship with Josh. He wondered who you were before that and if you would become that person again.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Wake up, sweetheart. You need to eat.”

“Hmm,” you groaned, slowly waking.

“There you go, darlin’. I brought the food to you.”

“Not hungry,” you grumbled, turning your head away from Logan. Your stomach growling gave you away.

Logan chuckled. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Just go, Logan.”

“Not until you eat. Come on, sit up.”

“Fine.”

You sat up as Logan grabbed the food. When Logan handed you the plate, you couldn’t help but stare at it and think of Josh. He would have commented on the portion sizes and that you needed to be careful not to gain much weight as it would embarrass him. Logan could see your mind freeze and figured it had to do with Josh.

“Eat,” he urged.

“I… I can’t,” you shook your head.

“You haven’t eaten all day.” You simply shrugged in response, looking down at your lap. “Y/N,” Logan tried to catch your gaze. “He is not in control of you anymore. Eat.”

“But—“

“Eat.”

With a scowl, you began to eat. Simply within the first bite, something inside you began to feel better. Logan watched you, making sure you at least got a few bites in your system.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled between bites. “I’m sorry that I’m being a burden. I—“

“Stop that,” Logan quickly interrupted. “You’re not a burden.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Said who? John?” You looked away. “That dipshit didn’t know what he was talking about.”

Logan wanted to tug your head back to look at him but he knew he needed to be careful when it came to touching you. There were things that needed to happen on your terms, despite anyone else.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, trying to get your attention, but it didn’t work.

“I’m done eating,” you told him quietly, still looking away. “Thanks for the food. You can go now.”

“Y/N—“

“Just go. Please.”

Logan picked up the plate as he stood up. “Get some rest. I’ll be checkin’ in later.”

“You don’t—“

“Not worth fightin’. It’s gonna happen. Let me know if you need anything before then.”

You were left alone, wishing that you could fully give in to Logan’s kindness. But a voice in the back of your head sounded too much like Josh, preventing you from allowing Logan to take care of you.

~~~

Logan wasn’t joking around when he told you he would check in on you. Like clockwork, he was checking on you every hour, even throughout the night. He wasn’t much of a sleeper anyway.

You practically lived in your room for the next two days. Ororo and Jean visited a couple of times, but mostly, Logan kept checking on you. He would bring you water, snacks, and food. Most of the time, Logan was silent in his doings, letting your mind have its way. But when you refused to eat meals, Logan wasn’t allowing it. It was practically the same fight as the first night, every night. Even up until you would ask him to leave.

It was the early morning hours when you decided you wanted ice cream and finally left the confines of your bedroom. You silently hoped no one would catch you as you snuck into the kitchen. You were grateful when you got there without running into anyone. Opening the freezer, you were surprised to see multiple tubs of your favorite type of ice cream. On the closet tub, there was a sticky note. You grabbed the tub to get a closer look. You could easily recognize the handwriting as Logan’s. It wasn’t the neatest, but you could easily read the small note: One scoop at a time.

You let out a small huff and a smile. There was no way that Logan came up with that on his own. Rogue had to have helped him with it. But it warmed your heart anyway to see his note. Logan wasn’t one to let people see the softer side of him, you were clearly the exception right now. You took the tub, grabbed a spoon, and headed back up to your room. What you didn’t notice is that you were being watched. Logan was standing near another doorway to the kitchen, watching you carefully. He couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction to the note and was glad to see you venture out of the room. If that one note got that reaction from you, Logan was definitely going to leave more around.

In the morning, you decided you needed to get out of the mansion for a while. Throwing a light jacket on, you opened your door and paused when you noticed a water bottle and a protein bar on the floor with a sticky note over the two. You picked up the items to read the simple ‘eat’ that was written on the note. Slipping the note into your room, you kept the other items with you as you walked outside.

The morning air was sharp but refreshing. It felt good to get out of your room and get some fresh air. Something about it helped ease the weight you felt over your mind and heart, though only slightly. You opened up the protein bar and took a bite out of it as you continued your stroll through the school gardens. Turning a corner, you noticed Logan standing near one of the fountains. His eyes were focused on you like he had been waiting for you. You paused your movements as he came over. You couldn’t help but note how warm his flannel looked over him and how deep his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, stopping in front of you with enough space for you to make a move to leave.

“Morning,” you mumbled.

“Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head in response, and Logan quickly fell in line beside you before the two of you continued walking. As much as you felt guilty about Logan taking care of you, you were grateful that the silence that fell between the two of you wasn't overbearing. The two of you walked around aimlessly for most of the morning until you decided to hide away again. You thanked Logan quickly before disappearing into your room.

For the next week, you kept the same routine. The beginning of the day held your on-the-go breakfast and a walk through the gardens with Logan. The middle of the day was spent wallowing in your room. The end of the day was spent with Logan forcing you to eat dinner. He had even started to eat dinner with you as well.

One morning, you finally decided to speak more than a few words as the two of you walked through the garden.

“Why do you keep trying to take care of me?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the trail in front of you. “You don’t have to, you know. I can figure things out on my own.”

“I care about you,” he replied easily. It took a lot for Logan to admit that, but in talks with Charles, he realized that he may need to be more open with you to help you. “And helping you is something I want to do, not something I have to do.”

“I’m not worth all this trouble, Logan.”

“If I didn’t think you were worth it, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Logan—“

“No.” Logan moved to stand in front of you, stopping you in your tracks but still keeping a good distance to respect your space. “You’re not a burden. You… You, Y/N, are worth more to me than I could ever explain. I will not let you go through this alone and let that dick’s voice that's still in your head bring you down. Got it?” You looked away and gave a slight nod. “Good.” Logan was aching to touch you, for both your sakes. “Sweetheart, I need to know if it's okay that I come closer and touch you.”

You took a sharp inhale at his request. No one, especially Josh, had ever asked your permission for anything like that. You wanted Logan closer, but you didn’t know what kind of touch he was talking about. You simply nodded, wanting to see what Logan was going to do. Logan could see the hesitation in your eyes as he took a step closer.

“Let me know if you need me to back off,” he said softly, taking another step forward.

You watched as Logan’s hand slowly reached forward and took your hand. His eyes remained locked on your face to make sure you were still okay with his movements. His thumb ran over your fingers as he carefully held your hand. Your heart picked up its pace, but only because you didn’t remember a time when a man’s touch was so gentle.

“You good?” He needed to check.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a nod. “Could you… keep holding my hand as we walk?”

His lips lifted up ever so slightly. “Anything you need, darlin’.”

~~~

Slowly, you began to spend more and more time out of your room. But you were never found far from Logan’s side. He had surprisingly become your beacon of light and was constantly aware of your needs.

“Have you thought about starting to teach again?” Jean asked one night at dinner. “Your kids miss you, and it might do you some good.”

“Maybe next week,” you responded. You needed a little bit more time to dwell on it all.

“Hey! It’s Y/N!” Pyro exclaimed, coming into the room. His loudness made you flinch and immediately put Logan on high alert. Pyro plopped down beside you, too close for comfort. You leaned back into Logan as Pyro playfully hit your arm. “You really need to—“

As your heartbeat began to race, Logan took matters into his own hands. He quickly reached around you with one arm, careful not to touch you, and released his claws, pointing them at Pyro’s neck

“Back away, bub,” Logan growled.

“Woah!” Pyro leaned back, hands up in defense. “I was just—“

“Back up.” Logan pushed his claws closer to his neck.

Pyro scrambled back, especially as he noticed tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to do anything.”

Logan’s claws slid into place as you leaned further into him. Logan’s harsh eyes quickly softened as he turned his attention on you. He still didn’t touch you, not wanting to push you further.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, not caring who was watching the scene at the moment. “What do you need?”

“T—To—leave,” you stuttered, eyes squeezed close.

“Do you think you can walk?”

“N—No…”

“You good with being carried?”

“Please.”

As swiftly and gently as possible, Logan hoisted you up in his arms and carried you to your room. You buried your head in his neck, allowing Logan to feel the tears escaping your eyes. Logan could hear your heartbeat start to slow, but the tears were still coming. Once he reached your room, he tried to set you down, but you clung to him.

“Hold me,” you whimpered.

Logan wasn’t about to tell you no. Hell, he would do anything you asked of him as long as it meant you were okay and happy. He sat on the bed and held you closely. He didn’t move his hands, wanting this to be whatever you were comfortable with. Logan held you until your tears passed.

“Logan,” you mumbled into his neck. “I’m sorry—“

“Not your fault, sweetheart. That stupid kid needs to be more aware of people's boundaries.”

“Thank you for being here for me.”

“Easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Easy?” You pushed back and focused on playing with the edge of your shirt. “Josh always said I was hard… difficult and needy.”

“That man was a liar, sweetheart. And not worth letting you waste any more time on him.”

“It’s hard… we were together for years… I… I loved him…”

“I know, but you deserve better, Y/N.”

“Maybe…”

“You’ll get there, and I’ll be there, whatever you need.”

~~~

It had been three weeks since Logan saved you from the apartment. and no one had heard from Josh. No one had mentioned it, but everyone was silently waiting for Josh to appear and wreak havoc.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright? You can always wait to go after my meeting with the Professor,” Logan worried.

“I’ll be fine, Logan,” you told him. “Besides, I was going to make a visit to my class after the walk.” Logan clenched his jaw, not liking the idea of leaving you alone for long. “I’ll be okay. I’ll shout if I need anything. I’m sure you’ll hear me from Charles’ office.”

“Fine. Shout if you need anything. I’m serious.”

“I know.”

You shot him a brief smile before turning around and heading to the gardens. You weren’t there long before a voice had you going cold in your tracks.

“Hello, Y/N,” Josh’s voice slurred from behind you.

Within moments, you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t get yourself to turn around, squeezing your eyes shut. You weren’t surprised to hear Josh walk around and stand in front of you. Your lungs clenched as air refused to circulate through you. Josh’s hands harshly grabbed your upper arms and shook you.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, bitch!” He exclaimed. Your eyes involuntarily snapped open. “I’m taking you home. Now.” He started dragging you.

“No,” you rasped. “No!” You began to put up a struggle, only making Josh’s hold on you grow harder. “Let go! Let go of me!”

“You’re forgetting your place, Y/N. When we get home—“

Josh was suddenly yanked away from you. The loss of his grasp had you falling to the ground. Looking up, you saw Logan holding onto Josh’s collar with one hand and hand his other aiming his claws under Josh’s chin.

“I’m only going to say this once, bub,” Logan growled, more anger in his tone than you had ever heard. “Fuck off. If I ever catch you near Y/N again, these claws will be the last thing you feel.”

Logan shoved Josh away and moved to stand protectively in front of you, still glaring at Josh. Both sets of claws were out, Logan’s arms ready to attack at a moment's notice. Josh glanced at you briefly before Logan took an intimidating step forward. Then Josh ran off. Logan didn’t turn around until he saw Josh go through the gate. Once he was sure Josh was gone, he spun around and knelt in front of you.

Before any words could get out of his mouth, you had launched yourself at Logan, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Logan wrapped his arms around you loosely, not wanting to push you too far.

“Please,” you cried. “Hold me.”

Logan’s arms instantly closed around you tighter. “I’ve got you, sweetheart… you’re safe. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”

~~~

The encounter with Josh left you shaken and basically back at square one. Logan wasn’t happy to find out that Josh’s grip on your arms had caused matching bruises. But he wasn’t going to let you see that. Instead, he helped you find a long-sleeve shirt to wear.

Months went by and slowly you began to heal parts of yourself again. Logan was there every step of the way, like he had promised. You eventually returned to teaching and other regular routines in the mansion. And you kept the new ones, like the morning walks with Logan.

It didn’t surprise you as you began to realize that you were forming feelings for Logan. You had talked to a therapist about it, worried that it was a trauma response, but they had walked you through things, and you were sure your feelings were real. You didn’t want to rush into anything. It helped that it was clear that Logan would take things at your speed. However, it was hard to keep it slow when he started complimenting you so often, and there was no doubt in his eyes that he didn’t mean his words.

“Hey, beautiful,” Logan greeted as he met you in the garden.

“Hey,” you responded, easily slipping your hand into his.

The two of you began walking around the gardens, completing the same path you did every morning.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Logan said, proving that he was listening to you.

“Would you… ummm… would you accompany me to Charles’ birthday party tomorrow night?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile at you with great pride. “I’d love to, darlin’.”

~~~

Logan met you at your bedroom door the night of the party and silently offered you his arm. He smirked when your arm laced through his. He led you down to the party, and you began mingling with the mostly familiar guests. You were grateful for Logan’s arm as all these people around you were making you anxious, but he was your anchor. Eventually, the two found yourselves against the wall, enjoying some drinks.

Lost in conversation with each other, you weren’t prepared for someone to bump into you, causing you to spill your drink all over Logan. A sudden wave of desperation and guilt washed over you.

“Oh my gosh!” You exclaimed, already started to tear up and tremble. Your hands came up to hover over Logan’s ruined clothes. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! Gosh, I’m so stupid! I should have—“

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” he stepped closer to you, trying to get your eyes to focus on his eyes. “Look at me, sweetheart.” Your eyes frantically snapped to his. “I’m going to grab your wrists and lead you upstairs, okay?”

“Okay,” you squeaked.

Logan did as he warned and loosely took your wrists in his hands and began guiding you upstairs. You fully broke down as soon as you were in the privacy of your own room. You pulled yourself from Logan’s grip and stumbled back.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed. “I know that you’re mad and that I—“

“No one’s mad, sweetheart,” Logan told you calmly. “It was all an accident. You’re okay.”

“But I ruined your shirt.”

“This can be washed. It’s okay.”

“It’s… okay?”

Logan’s heart was breaking for you. You may never get Josh’s influence out of you for good, but Logan would try to show you how Josh should have treated you.

“It’s fine, Y/N,” he confirmed. “It’s just a shirt.”

“I’m sorry,” you continued to cry. “I thought that I was doing better.”

“You are, sweetheart. You are doing amazing.”

“Then why did this trigger me?”

“Sometimes it happens, and that’s okay.” He held his arms out. “May I?” You stepped into his arms, letting him envelop you. “You’re doing amazing… healing is a slow process. Things are going to trigger you, and that’s okay. We’ll work through it.”

“Thank you for sticking this out with me.”

“Always.”

~~~

A few weeks later, the others began teasing how much like a couple you and Logan were. Neither of you talked about it with the other, and you both defended it with the others, though neither of you minded the idea of being a couple.

The two of you were standing alone on the balcony one night, enjoying the stars, when your focus shifted to Logan.

“Logan?” You quietly called.

“Hmm?” He hummed, glancing your way.

“Can you kiss me?”

Logan fully turned to face you now. “Are you sure, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

Logan stepped closer. “Where,” he paused to swallow, “where do you want my hands?”

You shrugged. “I’m okay with wherever… I trust you.”

Slowly, Logan’s hands came up to cup your cheeks. The two of you leaned in and hesitantly touched lips. The kiss was slow but caused your heart to race and feel like you were on fire in the best of ways. It wasn’t a long kiss, Logan wanting to pull back before you got overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Logan chuckled, keeping a gentle hold of your face. “You don’t gotta thank me for everything, sweetheart. I’m just trying to treat you right.”

“All the more reason to thank you.”

He gave you another brief kiss. “I don’t want to rush you, but I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

You could have melted right there. For a rough guy to everyone else, Logan was truly the sweetest to you. “I’d like that… I’d like that a lot.”

“You’re being honest? Not just saying that because I asked?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Good. I’m gonna kiss you again.” As Logan leaned in, you pulled back.

“You don’t need to warn me before you touch me… I can handle it.”

“Sweetheart, I’m doing it out of love, and I will continue to do it to show that you always have control over the situation.”

“How are you this… good?”

Logan chuckled. “Only for you, baby, only for you.”

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gingernut1314 · 24 hours ago

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Are You Mad?

Summary: Zoro hates it when you are mad at him...so why is it so hard for him to apologize?

Content: Gender-natural reader, Zoro being stubborn, Poor Chopper getting stuck in the middle of your fight, slight spoilers (thousand sunny)

Word Count: 850+

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“Why are you still pissed off?” Was the first thing out of Zoro’s mouth after thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of him standing before you in complete and utter silence. Not a single peep out of his mouth for thirty minutes as he watched you comb through Chopper’s fur, the poor reindeer molting so bad he had asked for your assistance in easing the itch a bit.

You quirked a brow up at him, keeping as silent as he had.

Zoro gruffed at his.

“Really?” You turned your eyes right back down onto the reindeer in your lap, whose anxiety seemed to be growing the longer he was between you and Zoro's angered tension.

Zoro scoffed.

Scoffed.

“It’s not even a big deal.”

“You think so?” You were quick to shoot back. Zoro’s brows furrowed together at your tone.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” You plucked a clump of molting fur from the comb, tossing it into the trash bin next to you.

You gave him a simple nod. Just one.

“Okay.” Silence fell over the deck of the Thousand Sunny once more. Well…as quiet as the Sunny could be. You could hear Sanji shouting something at Luffy from within the kitchen as well as the clinking and clanking of Franky and Usopp tinkering.

Zoro watched you for a long moment, muscular arms crossing over his chest. Watched you as if he was trying to figure something out.

“...okay?” You gave a small shrug.

“Okay.” You repeated. Zoro’s brown, near-black eyes continued to watch you.

“...why do I feel like you’re still pissed?”

“Take a wild guess.” Zoro grit his teeth.

“Hey. I didn’t know.” Chopper was wiggling in your grip, his nerves bubbling fully to the surface then.

“Heh, heh…I think Robin--” The doctor started but you cut him off, running the comb back through his fur to keep him there.

“You didn’t know? Really? That’s the best you can come up with?”

“I did!” He huffed back, uncrossing his arms again.

“You were there when I bought it!” The swordsman gave the back of his green-covered head a scratch as if he was trying to wrestle up the memory.

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it.” It was your turn to scoff.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe apologize. Maybe actually take responsibility for it?” Chopper was once more wiggling in your grip, more nervous laughter falling from his lips.

“Guys…guys I’m sure--”

“You want me to apologize?” Zoro asked like it was the stupidest thing in this world.

“No. Not now. You don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“I know it wasn’t great.”

“Then fess up and apologize.” You bit.

The deck fell quiet once more. Even Chopper held deathly still in your arms.

Zoro watched you, his gaze still narrowed like he should be the angry one.

“Fine.” He grit out like it was painful.

He was probably the most stubborn man you had ever met. No. No scratch that he was the most stubborn man. There was no way he was really going to do what you asked of him.

“Yeah?” You cocked a brow up at him.

“Yeah.” He confirmed making you all but roll your eyes. You gestured for him to go on then with your hand. “I’m sorry.” You gave a small nod.

“Okay…for what?” He went to open his mouth but you were quick to speak again. “And say sorry again before you tell me what you did,” Zoro grumbled.

“This is stupid.”

“Then don’t do it.” This only made him grumble all over again.

“I’m sorry,” He began again, “for…” Another grumble in frustration. “For drinking your wine.”

“You should be. That wasn’t that cheap shit you buy.” Zoro rolled his eyes right back at you.

“It was only 20 berries.”

“The good stuff.” You were quick to correct him. Zoro sighed.

“Whatever.” The deck went quiet again. Zoro continued to stand there, looking like he was still trying to figure you out as you went back to combing through Chopper's fur. The doctor had given a great sigh of relief at the tension being lifted. “Are…” Zoro started up again.

“Are…?” You spoke, glancing back up at the tanned swordsman.

“Are you still mad at me?” He mumbled like he was embarrassed to ask. Mumbled because he truly hated when you were mad at him. It was a fact that, once you figured it out, loved to use to your advantage.

“Give me a little kiss and I won’t be.” Zoro’s shoulders seemed to slump in his own relief at your words. He was quick to kneel before you, lending over Chopper to fit his warm lips against your own.

“EW! No! Stop!” Chopper complained, starting his wiggling back up all over again. You let the doctor go, who was quick to rush off, fake gagging as he did.

“I’ll get you another bottle,” Zoro murmured against your lips. You nodded, cupping his cheeks in the palms of your hands.

“Thank you.” You claimed his lips once more, your skin warm and buzzing as he kissed you right back.

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro fic #roronoa zoro #zoro #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa x y/n #roronoa zoro fic #one piece #one piece fic #one piece fluff fic #zoro fluff #zoro fluff fic #thousand sunny #dividers by bernardsbendystraw #divider by sister lucifer #my fic

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phone4pills · 6 hours ago

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MAKE A WISH Chris x waitress!Reader

not proof read, long ass, don’t try if you’re lactose intolerant, london slander, send me asks about this pairing

The lone boy entered the diner, the doorbell above the sticker-loaded door ringing upon his arrival. He’d seen the bright ‘open’ sign above it on his way down the street. It was a particularly cool evening and he could’ve used a milkshake.

Finding a seat in one of the empty booths, he pulled his hands out of the pockets of his cargo trousers, opened the menu and instantly found the Shakes section. Listed were the flavours, each one as appealing as the last to Chris, who had quite the sweet tooth.

S’mores, Cherry Vanilla, Strawberry Shortcake, Oreo Cheesecake and Banana Split.

He couldn’t help but lick his bottom lip, already salivating at the thought of the S’mores shake in the huge glass, topped with whipped cream and stacked with delicious treats. Chocolate and marshmallows, as well as graham crackers and maybe even a couple sprinkles. Gosh, he was hungry.

“You know staring at the menu isn’t going to do much for your hunger. Trust me, used to do it all the time. Never worked.” His eyes peered up to be met with a distinct pair of large, pretty eyes staring back down at his under raised eyebrows. “Really?” He laughed, placing the menu flat on the table and turning his full attention to her. She nodded, pulling her notepad out of the back pocket of the light wash jeans that she had on. Her torso was clothed in a red shirt with the word ‘LONDON’ in large, pink letters on the front and her neck upwards was adorned with jewellery.

“London. You ever been?” Chris asked, eyeing the lettering on her baby-tee with a curious gaze. The girl looked down at the word painted across her chest for a split second, as though she had forgotten it was on her shirt. “Oh, yes. London, Kentucky.” His head tilted slightly before he nodded. “Right, right.”

“So, what can I get for ya…” The end of her sentence hung in the air and at that point Chris realised he hadn’t really introduced himself. He quickly told her his name and picked up the menu to relocate what he wanted. “I’d like a S’mores milkshake.” The girl scribbled down the order with immense pace and her head lifted again, redirecting her sight to Chris. “Anything else?”

He shook his head, closing the menu and placing it back in the holder. “No. That’ll be it.” Despite her confusion, the waitress shrugged her shoulders and offered him once last glance before departing on the words, “Suit yourself.”

Ten minutes fled by, all of which Chris spent scrolling through his camera roll of that day, attempting to decide which of the pictures he would post on his instagram. His brothers had texted him, wondering where he’d gone off to. He read their message, unable to find the care to respond. They knew he was alive with a phone, that was enough.

She returned with the gigantic shake in hand, carrying it with a delicate ease that drew Chris’ eye. He licked his lips when the girl placed the sweet treat on the table in front of him. She leaned on the booth across from him, cleaning down her hand on the pink apron that clung to her waist. “I’m y/n by the way, you forgot to ask.”

A heat rose to the boy’s cheek faster than a cheetah pouncing on its prey. She giggled, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it, usually people don’t ask. Just thought it would come in handy if m’gonna keep talking your ears off.” Chris nodded, taking a sip of the drink through the thick, glass straw. He found sweet and savoury flavours pouring into the canvas between his lips like warm paints from the palettes of a marvellous artist. His blue eyes lit up, only getting delighted in contrast to the dark curls that fell over his forehead, caressing his brows that were almost as dark.

She grinned, already used to this kind of reaction. One glance around was all it took for her to take a seat across from him, taking a quick, self-approved break from her job to talk to the cute boy she’d met. “So Chris, anything special that brings you here?” He nodded, swallowing the thick shake in his mouth, savouring the flavour that dripped down his throat like a spiky fountain. “S’my birthday today.” Her eyes widened, wondering why he was all alone.

“You celebrated with anyone today?” She hoped he’d say yes, even give a nod. She’d have hated to spend her birthday alone, and Chris seemed like a fun guy to be around, surely he couldn’t have spent his special day without anyone. “Yeah, with my two brothers. We’re triplets.”

“That is so cool. Are you the youngest?” She leaned closer. As if she weren’t already intrigued by Chris, now she had an even better reason to be absolutely fascinated. He gave her a nod, licking the whipped cream off the top of the shake. “How did you know?” She chuckled, using her thumb to wipe the whipped cream off his nose.

[Person change]

In that very moment, time seemed to slow as you locked eyes. You could feel Chris’ breaths on your face, that was only inches from his. You peered down at his lips, pink and plush as they were, you knew kissing them was the last thing you could do freely. You knew nothing about him. Was he even single? He couldn’t be with a pretty face like that. Was he into girls? Was he into you? You cleared your throat, quickly shuffling back into your seat. “Usually kids order the S’mores shake.”

Chris took a deep breath, as though he’d felt the heat of the moment too and needed to come back down from whatever cloud the two of you were riding. “Are you callin’ me a kid?” You quickly shook your head, explaining that you only felt a bubbly, youthful energy around the boy. His cheeks were still blush-covered, as though he was a watercolour painting with a layer of pink tinting his face. “You know what, I should get back to work. Take your time with that milkshake, we’re open all night.”

Chris nodded, eyes panning down your figure as you made your way back towards the counter. He hated to see you go, but he loved to watch you leave. Mindlessly sipping away, Chris barely realised how much darker the sky had gotten outside. He just wanted to have a moment to himself. Being an adult was more complicated than he’d expected, even for someone like him who was lucky enough to have fans all over the world to support him and his brothers.

He thought about you. They way you were around his age and working a night job. He thought about how that could’ve been him, how that is the life of so many people his age. And he spent his night partying and having fun without a care in his mind. Without a doubt or lick of worry about how much it would cost him or how tired he’d be the next morning. And Chris was ever so grateful.

The boy was so lost in thought, he didn’t even realise the crackles in the distance, getting closer and closer. It was only the familiar giggle that snapped his from his thoughts and he turned around to find you tiptoeing in his direction, balancing a chocolate cake with candles and sparklers. Intricate assortments of sprinkles and icing swirls decorate the exterior of the homemade dessert. No way. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

You finally reached the table, placing down the large plate in front of him and the smile that adorned his face was brighter than ever. Brighter than all the candle and sparks taking place on top of the cake. “Happy birthday, Chris.”

He wanted to cry. That entire time, from the point at which you placed down the cake to the moment you sat across from him, telling him it blow out all of the candles, nothing touched him like the smile that played on your lips when you said “Make a wish!” And you made him promise not to tell anyone. You fed him little pieces, laughing as he tried to catch all of the dessert that toppled off the fork. And he didn’t think his special day could get better. But you made that possible. You made it real.

After a long night, Chris finally received the bill. He’d expected it to have a read a longer list, but it was simple.

RECEIPT

s’ᴍᴏʀᴇs ᴍɪʟᴋsʜᴀᴋᴇ… $7.29

Total cost…. $7.29

Chris thought there had to be some mistake. Surely the cake and the extra service would cost him a little more. Plus, he wanted to see her one more time. Her smile was like a composition of melodies and rhythms formulated throughout time. Passed from generation to generation, surviving century after another as though the joyous expression possessed the sought after power of immortality. As though each pearly tooth was are token of the past, a timeless treasure worth more than humanely possible to discover in the limited space which is the imagination. As though each smile line, each crease and curve was the product of every face, married together by Mother Nature in the creation of another life, another soul. And so despite her ever so distinguishable and so difficult to miss spite for it, he loved her smile as an astronomer loves his stars. He loved her smile as a philosopher loved his literature. He loved her smile as a he loved all of her.

And he was set on calling her over again until he turned over the little slip of paper to read a note.

‘ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘉𝘰𝘺. (𝟾𝟻𝟽) *** **** ’

Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack @h3arts4harry @aalixsturns

AHHHHH, this shit took weeks of effort (and Ariana grande songs). But we’re here! I reallyyy hope you guys f with this because it’s long. Anyways this is how Chris and waitress!Reader meet. Their story begins here. There will be more posted in the AU and I have more Chris AUs in my MASTERLIST. Thanks so so so much if you made it here after all of that reading, it genuinely means a lot. Please consider reposting.

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jeonsblackgf-writes · 1 day ago

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When the Tide Turns | Rafe Cameron

summary: the one where rafe is in love with his bestfriend’s sister

warnings: none i believe

word count: 4,212

——————————————

Rafe Cameron was never one for introspection. He preferred to live in the now, to act without hesitation, to indulge in whatever fleeting desires life offered. That was, until her. He knew it was a bad idea. He’d known it from the very first time he saw her — leaning against the railing of the Cameron family’s porch, laughing at something Kelce had said, her dark skin glowing golden in the afternoon sun. Her eyes, dark and deep like the night sky, shone with a curious mischief. He had caught himself staring, unable to look away, even as his best friend and the rest of the group continued their chatter around him.

"Rafe, you good?" Kelce had asked, snapping Rafe out of his daze.

Rafe had forced a smile, masking the turmoil inside. "Yeah, just thinking about something."

But that was the first time it hit him—he was in trouble.

He had tried to ignore it, told himself it was a phase, a simple crush that would fade. After all, Kelce was his best friend. He had known him for years. The thought of jeopardizing that bond for some fleeting attraction was beyond stupid. But every time he saw her, he couldn’t help it. The flutter in his chest when she looked at him. The way her laughter made everything else in the world fade into the background. He wasn’t used to feeling this way. In fact, he had never really felt this way about anyone. Rafe wasn’t the type to pine. He wasn’t the type to get caught up in anything more than a quick fling or a simple hookup. But with her? It was different. And that scared him.

It was the summer before their senior year of college and the Cameron beach house was filled with the usual chaos. The Outer Banks was at its peak tourist season, and the group of friends was used to spending most of their time down by the water. Rafe and his buddies, , had spent the day surfing and lounging in the sand, while the girls — and of course , Nia — had stayed behind at the house to cool off and relax. Nia was Kelce’s older sister, the one he’d always mentioned in passing but rarely brought around. She was a couple of years older than Rafe and the rest of the gang, which made her seem like this mysterious figure who was always out of reach. But Rafe had always noticed her. He wasn’t blind. She had this effortless elegance, something so unbothered about her presence that it drew people in.

And yet, she never seemed to be the type to crave attention. Her quiet confidence was intoxicating.

Nia had always been a little different from the others. The group would go out, get into trouble, and she’d hang back, listening to music or reading, never making a scene. She was insanely beautiful, almost too beautiful to be true. That was probably part of the reason why Rafe was so drawn to her—she didn’t *need* the attention. She wasn’t one to beg for validation. She simply was. But that afternoon, she was standing by the kitchen counter, wearing a flowy sundress that caught the late afternoon light. Her hair was braided loosely, a few strands framing her face, and she was making something to drink, humming to herself.

Rafe found himself watching her again. The way her fingers curled around the glass, the faint smile on her lips as she adjusted the jug of lemonade—he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She was so beautiful, and yet so effortless about it. She wasn’t trying to be, and that made her even more captivating. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Kelce’s voice calling from the door.

"Yo, Rafe! Earth to Cameron!"

Rafe snapped back to reality, turning around with a sheepish grin. "Yeah?"

Kelce raised an eyebrow, following Rafe’s gaze and grinning. "You’ve been staring at my sister for, like, ten minutes, bro. You good?"

Rafe’s heart skipped. The last thing he needed was Kelce noticing, but there was no denying the tension in the air. "I’m fine," he said quickly, his tone more clipped than he intended. "Just... zoning out."

Kelce chuckled, but Rafe could see the glint of amusement in his eyes. "Just don’t make it weird, man," he teased, stepping inside. "She’s a lot to handle."

Rafe couldn’t help but grin mischievously , though his stomach twisted at the thought of handling Nia. It was a dangerous game to play. A game or two never hurt anybody. Kelce leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She’s way out of your league anyway."

Rafe bristled. "You don’t know that."

Kelce shrugged, his expression growing more serious, knowing his sister. "Trust me, I do."

Rafe wondered what he meant by that.

——————————————

Later that evening, the group gathered around the fire pit. The sun had set, and the sky was painted in hues of purple and orange as the waves crashed in the distance. Everyone was lounging on chairs, drinking beers, telling stories, and joking around, but Rafe couldn’t seem to relax. He kept glancing over at Nia, who sat a little further off, watching the fire with an enigmatic expression. The way she was sitting—her legs crossed, her chin resting in her hand—looked almost too perfect. And then, when she caught him staring again, she didn’t look away. Instead, she smiled.

A slow, knowing smile. She was baiting him. Rafe felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He looked away quickly, trying to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary, but it was too late. The pull between them, that silent acknowledgment, was too strong. He could feel it in the air, thick and suffocating.

"Yo, Rafe, you gonna sit with us, or are you just gonna stare at my sister all night?" Kelce’s voice rang out, loud and unashamed. The entire group laughed, but Rafe’s heart was pounding in his chest. This wasn’t good. He was spiraling, and he had no idea how to stop it. Nia’s voice interrupted the chaos, light and teasing. "Don’t worry, Kelce. Rafe’s probably just thinking about how to ask me out."

Rafe froze. The words hung in the air, as though they had a weight of their own. The fire crackled, the sound of the ocean filling in the silence that followed.

Kelce shot Rafe a look that was half amused, half suspicious. "You’re not really thinking about that, are you?"

Rafe stood up, his pulse racing. "I—"

Before he could say anything more, Nia’s soft laughter rang out, cutting him off. "I’m just messing with you, Rafe."

The tension in his chest didn’t loosen, though. If anything, it only made the moment more awkward, more uncertain.

It wasn’t long after that evening that things between Rafe and Nia started to shift. There was a subtle change in the air whenever they were in the same room. The awkwardness faded, replaced by a comfortable tension that both of them could feel but neither dared to acknowledge. They spent more time together, often alone, without the group around. The first time it happened was when Rafe found himself alone in the kitchen, trying to fix his broken surfboard. Nia appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the doorframe with a cup of coffee in her hands, watching him in that quiet way she did.

"You need help with that?" she asked, voice low but full of humor.

Rafe shook his head, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. "I think I’ve got it, thanks."

She leaned closer, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Are you sure? Because I’m pretty good with tools, among other things."

The way she said it made Rafe’s stomach flip. His mind raced, unsure of whether he was imagining things, or if Nia was actually flirting with him. But before he could respond, she disappeared, her laughter trailing behind her.

—————————

It had been three weeks since Rafe Cameron first realized he was in over his head. Three weeks since the day Nia had arrived at the beach house, laughing at something Kelce had said, with that effortlessly cool vibe of someone who didn’t care about anything but enjoying the moment. From the first moment Rafe saw her, something in him shifted. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but everything felt different now.

But Nia wasn’t the type to make a scene. She was quietly confident, always in the background, like she had nothing to prove. It was that quiet strength that drew him in, but also made him feel like he was chasing something out of his reach. She wasn’t like the other girls he’d been with—more than just a pretty face with a smile that lit up a room. Nia had this presence, this calm, but also a mysterious, guarded aura that Rafe couldn’t shake. And the worst part? She seemed oblivious. At least, that’s what he told himself. Part of him hoped she knew the things he wanted to do to her, the way he thought about her. Kelce would lose it.

Rafe didn’t talk about his feelings. He didn’t have feelings, at least not for anyone who wasn’t a fleeting distraction. But Nia… she made him question everything. Every lingering glance, every laugh that vibrated in his chest, every time she brushed by him so close he could smell the coconut oil in her hair—it was like a spark in the dry kindling of his usual indifference. The fire was building, and he was terrified that it would burn everything to the ground.

---

The tension between Rafe and Nia wasn’t something that could be pinpointed on a single day. It was a slow, gradual thing, like the rising tide inching toward the shore, barely noticeable at first, but inevitable. Every time she smiled at him, Rafe felt that pull—a magnet drawing him in, an invisible thread weaving between them. And every time he caught her looking at him, her gaze lingering just a beat longer than necessary, his heart would skip in a way he’d never felt before. It was during those quiet moments that the tension truly began to take shape. No one else seemed to notice it. Kelce, his boys, and the rest of the group were too wrapped up in their own drama, too carefree to see what was happening. But Rafe couldn’t ignore it.

The first real turning point came one afternoon when Rafe found himself alone with Nia in the kitchen. It had been a long day of surfing, and most of the group had scattered to do their own thing—Kelce had disappeared to the beach to meet some friends, and the others were lounging in the living room. Rafe had made himself a sandwich, but the sound of the blender whirring stopped him in his tracks. Nia was at the counter, her back to him, slicing fruit for a smoothie. The low hum of the blender and the soft rustle of her movements were oddly soothing, and Rafe found himself standing there, watching her. She was wearing a simple tank top with no bra and shorts, her dark skin glowing in the soft light. The way her hands moved, so purposeful and graceful, made him feel like he was witnessing something intimate—something private. Rafe didn’t mean to stare. But he couldn’t help it. There was something about her that pulled him in. His breath hitched once he seen the jewelry around her nipples.

Nia turned, catching his gaze. The air between them thickened. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smile. "You need something?" she asked, her voice casual but with a hint of something deeper—something teasing. Rafe cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how awkward he must look. "Just… watching the magic happen," he muttered, his words coming out rougher than he’d intended. Nia’s smile grew wider, and she leaned against the counter, studying him. "You know," she said slowly, "you’ve been acting a little… off lately."

Rafe stiffened. "Off?"

"Yeah. Staring into space, zoning out during conversations. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve got this… look in your eyes." She paused, and the playful edge to her voice softened. "Like you’re thinking about something. Or someone."

Rafe swallowed hard. His heart thudded in his chest, and for a moment, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Had she noticed? Had she known all along?

He forced a chuckle, trying to brush it off. "Nah, just tired. Been surfing all day."

But Nia didn’t look convinced. Her eyes never left him, and there was a knowing quality to her gaze that made his insides twist.

"Okay," she said slowly, dragging out the word. "But you don’t have to act so weird around me, Rafe. I’m not gonna bite."

The way she said it sent a ripple of heat through him. The teasing tone, the way her voice dipped just slightly at the end—was she flirting with him? He couldn’t tell. Maybe it was just his imagination running wild. But even then, that seed was planted. He couldn't shake the feeling that the tension between them had shifted just a little. Maybe she was picking up on something too. Maybe she was playing with him, testing the waters. But whatever it was, it was undeniably there, and it was dangerous.

————————————-

The days that followed were a blur of stolen moments and heavy silences. There were no direct confessions—no grand gestures, no open acknowledgment of the pull that seemed to grow between them. Instead, it was the little things. The way Nia would brush against him when she passed him in the hallway, always so close, always so deliberate. The way her eyes would meet his across a crowded room, and for just a second, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. She bent over in front of him any chance she got, wearing skirts most of the time so that he could see her different color thongs. Rafe couldn’t seem to stop himself from responding, his body reacting instinctively, always wanting to bridge the distance. He was a guy who’d never been afraid of the chase, but with Nia, it wasn’t about that. It was about something else Something deeper, something that made him feel more vulnerable than he was willing to admit.

He didn’t understand it, and he hated the way it made him feel.

————————————

It was the night of the full moon when it all came to a head. The group had gathered on the beach for a bonfire. The ocean stretched out before them, dark and infinite, the waves crashing against the shore. The air was thick with salt and laughter, the sound of crackling wood filling the space between them. Rafe was drunk. Not enough to lose control, but just enough to feel reckless. The night was fading, the sky darkening above them, and everyone was starting to break off in pairs or small groups. But Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off Nia. She was sitting by the fire, her long legs stretched out in front of her, her face illuminated by the flames as she talked with Kie. It was so easy to let his gaze wander over her—so natural. She had this way of commanding attention without trying. The firelight danced on her skin, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the curve of her lips. Everything about her seemed to draw him in like a moth to a flamee.

It was at that moment, when she glanced over and caught his gaze, that Rafe felt his heart skip. She didn’t look away immediately. In fact, she held his gaze for a beat too long before a sly smile tugged at her lips, and she turned back to Kie. But the damage was done. The pull between them had shifted into something undeniable.

A few moments later, Rafe found himself alone by the edge of the water, trying to cool off. He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore—he just needed a break from the intensity of the night. But then he heard her footsteps behind him.

"Nia," he said, turning just as she stopped beside him, close enough that their arms brushed.

"You’ve been acting weird again," she said, her voice low but direct. Rafe let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. "You don’t give up, do you?"

She smiled, but there was something different in her eyes now—something more serious. "You think I don’t notice?"

Rafe didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, Nia took a step closer, her body now inches from his. "I’ve been noticing," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper above the crashing waves. "I know what you’ve been thinking."

Rafe’s breath hitched in his throat. His body tensed, every muscle screaming at him to back away, to walk away before things went too far. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

"You don’t know what I’m thinking," he said, his voice rough.

"I think I do," she replied, her hand brushing lightly against his arm, sending a shock of heat through him. It was the first time she had touched him like that. It was enough to set everything in motion. Rafe turned to face her, his heart hammering in his chest. "And what is that?" he asked, his voice barely more than a growl.

Nia’s eyes flickered down to his lips before locking onto his gaze again. "That you’re trying to resist something that’s already happening."

———————————-

Rafe’s breath hitched in his chest at her words. For a moment, he was frozen, unable to move, his mind racing a million miles a minute. The pull between them felt *too much*—like the tension in the air before a storm, just waiting to break. His pulse hammered in his neck, and he couldn’t look away from her. Nia was so close now that he could feel the warmth of her body, the faint scent of coconut oil on her skin, the sweet, intoxicating fragrance of the summer evening air. She was standing just inches from him, but the distance between them felt like a chasm.

“You’re not wrong,” Rafe muttered before he could stop himself. His words hung in the air like an admission he hadn’t meant to make.

Nia’s lips parted slightly as she processed his response, her gaze never leaving his face. She didn’t smile this time, but her eyes softened. The playful edge that had usually colored her voice was gone, replaced by something more sincere, more searching.

“I didn’t think you’d admit it so easily,” she said quietly, taking a small step closer, her hand now hovering just above his. Her touch was almost electric, just a fraction of an inch from his skin, and it made Rafe’s heart race even faster.

He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore, but the air between them was thick, heavy with something that felt far too real to ignore. Nia was looking at him like she was trying to decipher him—her eyes searching his face, trying to figure out if what he’d just admitted was the truth.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Rafe asked, his voice hoarse, betraying the uncertainty gnawing at him. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Nia raised an eyebrow, a glint of something almost amused in her eyes. “Like what?”

“Like I’m the only thing that matters in the room.” His voice cracked slightly, and he winced. Damn it. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But it was too late. The words had left his mouth, and now the floodgates were open.

Nia was quiet for a beat, but when she spoke again, her voice was low, almost a whisper, as though she were letting him in on a secret only the two of them shared. “Maybe because you *are* the only thing that matters, Rafe.”

The weight of her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart seemed to stop for a second, before it started pounding faster, a crescendo of emotion building inside of him. He wanted to pull away—he needed to pull away—but his feet felt like they were glued to the sand. It was too late now. The magnetic force between them had already snapped.

Rafe exhaled shakily, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let his guard down. All of the pent-up frustration, the confusion, the desire—it all came crashing down on him at once. He stepped forward, closing the remaining gap between them until there was no space left. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the saltwater on her skin mixed with the faint scent of her perfume.

Nia didn’t pull back. She didn’t run, didn’t hesitate. Instead, she stood her ground, her eyes locked on his, unwavering.

“What are we doing, Nia?” Rafe breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air between them, charged with everything they hadn’t said to each other up until now.

Nia’s lips parted, her breath mingling with his, and for a moment, Rafe thought she might say something, anything that would pull them back from the edge. But she didn’t. Instead, she closed the distance between them, just a fraction of an inch, and pressed her hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath her fingers. Her touch was soft, delicate even, but it sent a shock of heat through Rafe, and the tension between them became unbearable.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Nia said quietly, her voice barely audible over the crashing of the waves. There was a vulnerability in her words that Rafe hadn’t expected. It was raw, unguarded in a way he hadn’t seen before.

Her hand slid from his chest up to his jaw, her fingers brushing lightly against his skin. He could feel the heat of her touch radiating through him, like a fire igniting inside him, and he couldn’t resist anymore. He stepped forward again, tilting his head slightly, eyes dropping to her lips. Everything else seemed to fall away.

The world around them, the sound of the waves, the crackling fire on the beach—it all blurred into the background. There was only Nia. Only this moment. Before he could second-guess himself, before he could talk himself out of it, Rafe leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against hers. It was a soft kiss at first—hesitant, almost tentative, as if neither of them wanted to break the fragile tension that had built between them for so long. But the moment their lips met, something inside Rafe snapped. The kiss deepened, slow and languid, as if they had all the time in the world, but neither of them was willing to let go of the moment.

Nia’s hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Rafe responded in kind, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her into him until there was no space left between them. The kiss was everything he hadn’t known he was craving—passionate, desperate, but with a tenderness that made his chest ache.

For a moment, it was like the entire world had disappeared. There was only the two of them, tangled together in a kiss that felt like it had been a long time coming. Rafe didn’t know what to do with the feelings swirling inside him. All he knew was that he wanted more. But when they finally broke apart, breathing heavily, the world came crashing back into focus. Nia was looking up at him, her eyes wide and breathless, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

Rafe’s heart was still racing, his mind still reeling. “What the hell was that?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion, but with a trace of disbelief.

Nia bit her lip, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I think that was the moment we stopped pretending we weren’t feeling this.”

Rafe’s chest tightened. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed her to say that, to make it real. “And now what?”

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes searching his face. “Now? I don’t know, Rafe. But we can’t keep pretending this doesn’t matter.”

He nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and fear flood through him. “You’re right.” His voice was rough, barely a whisper. He could feel the weight of the unspoken words, the ones they both knew they weren’t quite ready to say yet.

Nia’s eyes softened, and she took a step back, but only just. Her fingers lingered on his arm, like she wasn’t ready to let go either.

“We take it one step at a time,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving his. “No pressure. Just… us.”

Rafe exhaled, his heart still pounding in his chest, but somehow lighter. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

As they stood there, just a breath apart, the tension between them hadn’t faded. It had only shifted—into something new, something uncharted. Rafe knew that whatever happened next would change everything. But for now, this was enough. This was the start of something neither of them could walk away from, even if they tried.

The waves crashed against the shore, and the world seemed to hold its breath.

#black reader #interracial #black!reader #x black reader #bwwm relationships #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x black!reader

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ivypendragon2 · 7 hours ago

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I don’t want to be that one person that goes “oh but if the roles were reversed…” BUT I AM GOING TO BE THAT PERSON BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. NOW I WON’T ONLY HAVE TO STAND MIGUEL’S GLAZERS BUT ALSO TORY’S BLINDS DEFENDERS BLAMING ROBBY AND ACCUSING HIM OF CHEATING WHEN IT WAS CLEARLY NOT LIKE THAT.

1. We all heard how he said he barely remembered that night.

2. He looked COMPLETELY out of it.

3. He didn’t even react when Zara kissed him, he looked about to throw up.

4. Do you have ANY idea how much do you have to drink to actually forget and HAVE BLANK SPACES? Let me tell you by experience, A LOT. And when people say they don’t remember things, believe me THEY DO NOT REMEMBER they are not exaggerating.

5. He was already drunk at the bar, he couldn’t even answer Kwon and you only had to look at the way his eyes were betraying him to know that.

6. His head was killing him, so that should tell you enough. You don’t get a hangover like that by just a quick drink.

7. If he doesn’t remember a thing, it means his head was not in it, so he had no power over his own body. I know that feeling well enough and it’s really easy for someone to convince you to practically anything. You know why? BECAUSE YOU ARE COMPLETELY OUT OF IT.

8. Lastly, they will brush all of this on the next part and i’m already feeling like murdering someone. IF YOU CANT HANDLE A TOPIC LIKE THIS FINE, I don’t expect you to, but at least change the scene and make zara kiss him in front of tory and let it be it. Why do they have to show Robby coming off her room in such a bad state? Why would you do this crap?

#cobra kai #robby keene #johnny lawrence #miguel diaz #sam larusso #samantha larusso #what the hell dude #just what the hell

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kurishiri · 3 days ago

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02┊Dark If —Alfons Sylvatica—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: implied dub-con, implied alcohol consumption, invasion of personal space.

(I-I-I...I...)

Alfons the Mirror: You’re rather quick to wake up, aren’t you. Well? Were you able to have a good dream last night?

(Why did I do such a thing... it was like Alfons was my lover...)

(Wait, like one...?)

Kate: Y-you did something to me, didn’t you?

Alfons the Mirror: Why indeed I did. We did a greaaat many things under consent.

A: That said, though, you ended up falling asleep, so we didn’t go all the way.

Kate: That’s not the point...!

Alfons the Mirror: Were you aware of my ability then? Because, yes, I did use it.

A: I am a mirror that reflects wishes and desires. I simply did what you wished for.

Kate: Wh—why would I ever wish for something so dirty...

Alfons the Mirror: Well I’ll be... is that really so?

Though I was intoxicated, I could still remember how I ended up wanting to lean into Alfons’ warmth.

Kate: Y-you’re the utter worst!

Alfons the Mirror: Aha, I do take a fancy to that reaction of yours. I prefer this loads over how you resembled a lost child last night.

Kate: Well, I won’t be seeking any more help from you.

Alfons the Mirror: Well then, how about I make a prediction? You will come to see me... I’m more than sure.

I straightened out my disheveled clothes and stood up as Alfons said while sprawled on the bed...

Alfons the Mirror: Ah, and...

(...?)

Alfons the Mirror: The first cocktail you drank last night is applejack. Despite all appearances, it’s quite some strong liquor.

A: A poisoned apple may not necessarily take the form of an apple itself. Do be careful from now on.

Perhaps out of frustration, or something else entirely, my cheeks grew hot.

Kate: Thanks for the warning! And you take care of that liver of yours too, mister Alfons the Mirror!

Alfons the Mirror: ......... (O_O)

A: ...pfft, ahahaha!

Leaving that shameless parting remark, I burst out of that shady room.

(That guy’s the worst of the worst, I swear to god——!!)

Pub master: Look at you, lady-killer. Did you have a fun time yet again? I’m almost envious.

Alfons the Mirror: Too much fun, in fact. Though she ran away like a cat would in the end.

??? (Harry): ...Hey, don’t go teasing her too much.

Alfons the Mirror: ...?

Sitting in the corner of the pub was a man, and that was all he said before disappearing into the darkness.

Pub master: So, are you gonna have a drink to wake yourself up, Alfons?

Alfons the Mirror: Yes, perhaps I will, with an applejack.

The day after I was played by the mirror, I went around on my own to find the missing thing.

But it seemed the favorite phrase of the people I asked boiled down to ‘maybe you’ll know if you ask Alfons?’

So in the end, I couldn’t get my hands on any information, leaving me to go back to that person, much to my displeasure.

Said person was at the castle, playing on a whim with a black cat.

Alfons the Mirror: Elbie was going to add this cat to his collection, you see... but it’s a relief indeed that you won’t be subject to a taxidermy, isn’t it?

Black cat: Meow...

Alfons the Mirror: And so, what brings you here?

Kate: .........ease.

Alfons the Mirror: I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that. Speak up a little more, why don’t you.

Kate: ...Help me...please...

Alfons the Mirror: With what, might I ask?

(I-I swear, this man——!)

Kate: I need your insights, so please help me...!

Alfons the Mirror: Very well. I must say you looked quite darling just now.

While I threw him a resentful look, Alfons brought his fingers to his chin in a dramatic gesture.

Alfons the Mirror: For the record, everything I am about to say is mere speculation on my end.

A: But you are Snow White, Elbie is the Queen, Roger the Hunter, and I the Mirror.

A: Don’t you think there is a missing cast member here in the story of Snow White?

(Ah...)

Kate: The prince?

Alfons the Mirror: Indeed, if you find that prince who is somewhere in this world, you may be able to return from whence you came!

Kate: Thank you so much, Alfons! I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Alfons the Mirror: Hardly. Then, I say we head off to search for this prince and whatnot posthaste.

Kate: Wait, you’re going to help?

Alfons the Mirror: Did I not say? I happen to very much enjoy sticking my nose into other people’s business without the need to take an ounce of responsibility.

And so, with Alfons, we started our search for the prince.

Alfons the Mirror: To all the candidates to be Snow White’s prince, over here! Yes, that’s it, line up in a single file.

A: Now, entry number 1. You can come up.

Candidate No.1: I-I would like to take Snow White’s hand in marriage, so I can get close to Queen Elbert——

Queen Elbert: ...Dismissed.

Alfons the Mirror: Thank you for your time. Ah, and over there are some souvenirs, so do take some with you.

Kate: Thank you for helping out so much.

K: ...But, what in the world is this!?

Alfons the Mirror: Thinking it was the most efficient way, I invited candidates from within the country. I am quite good at my job, aren’t I.

Kate: I won’t deny that, but you could’ve confided in me before it happened...

K: Besides, why is Queen Elbert helping as well?

Queen Elbert: ...? Because, I was worried about you?

Alfons the Mirror: Alright then, entry number 2. You may come up.

Candidate No.2: I want to marry Snow White, and every night... hehehe...

Queen Elbert: ...Take him out of the castle grounds.

Alfons the Mirror: Yes yes, right away. Guards, if you please, throw him right out of the castle.

—— Time skip ——

(...That must’ve been close to 300 people, but we couldn’t find even one remotely like a prince.)

The fatigue piling up on me, I started to feel more down.

(At this rate, I won’t be able to find the missing thing, and I probably won’t be able to return back to reality.)

Alfons the Mirror: Kate? Kate.

Kate: Yes... ngh, mn...

Alfons kissed me with a wet sound before he finally parted from my lips.

Kate: W-why a kiss so suddenly?

Alfons the Mirror: I was starting to grow tired of all these worthless men, so call this a cleansing of palate, if you will.

A: Oh, or are you perhaps in need of a more intensely pleasurable ‘cleansing’?

Kate: Ah… no, we can’t…

I remembered the heat from when he fondled me before, and for a moment I recalled the pleasure from that.

(But that… all of that…)

Alfons the Mirror: You can put all the blame on me. I simply had unfulfilled desires, and so I laid my hands upon you.

Kate: In between an audience… that’s bad manners.

Alfons the Mirror: Oh dear, did you truly take me for someone who tries to uphold manners, by any chance?

A: And besides that, with that sort of phrasing, are you meaning to say doing things like this is alright if it’s in a different place?

Kate: Wh—ah…

Alfons the Mirror: We can leave the prince hunt for tomorrow and enjoy ourselves today. How about it?

(That it would make me happy if that smile of his was not apathetic, but rather one that came from his heart…)

(…It’s not like I’m thinking that or anything.)

And then, a few days later, in order to invite real princes, a banquet was held at the castle.

(Urgh, if it’s real princes, that would mean they’re nobility, right? Of course I’d be nervous…)

Alfons the Mirror: Are you finished with preparations? Well, I’ll be, don’t you look wonderful.

A: That is one shameless slit, to be sure. You’ll have the princes on their knees in no time flat, I say.

Kate: H-hold on, don’t touch me.

Alfons the Mirror: Goodness, what’s there to be so stingy about?

At this point, such interactions with Alfons like this had long become a part of my every day.

I had initially felt so anxious, but now such feelings have dissipated more…

Kate: …You know, recently I’ve had times when I’ve thought about what I’m really searching for.

Alfons the Mirror: And that is to say?

Kate: I had thought finding that missing thing and correcting what made this world twisted would be the right thing to do.

K: But it’s just… I can’t help but wonder if that’s really the case.

The people living in this country had gone twisted and mad somewhere along the way.

After all, Queen Elbert was still searching for the most beautiful thing in this world,

and Alfons… he would sometimes have this severely lonely or icy look in his eyes.

But… there wasn’t any person here that was living an entirely proper life.

And I couldn’t help but feel more or less everyone was living at least a little mad.

While thinking that, I felt the sensation of fingertips tickling my back.

Kate: Eek!

Alfons the Mirror: So you no longer wish to return to reality, instead wanting to stay with me?

Kate: No way!

Alfons the Mirror: Hehe, that’s unfortunate. Oh, and would you look at that. It’s almost time, Snow White.

In the dance hall, princes from many different countries were gathered.

Green-eyed prince: Snow White, this dish is delectable.

Kate: Ah, thank you. I’ll partake in some.

(If it was Alfons, I imagine he wouldn’t eat this sort of luxurious dish.)

——How rude. I’ll have you know purposefully eating crudely is what makes a noble.

Blue-eyed prince: Snow White, uhm, could we talk over there later?

Kate: Yes, of course.

(If it were Alfons, he would probably drag me off somewhere without asking first.)

——After all, you don’t dislike this kind of force, do you?

(…W-wait, what…?)

(For a while now, why was I…)

Why was I trying to find Alfons in other people?

Kate: ——!

(I… to Alfons——)

to be continued…

← prev premium bitter

ko-fi ☕️ ┋ comms🤍

#in love with all the rt connections 🥹🫶#ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil alfons #ikevil alfons sylvatica #alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alfons #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations #d: cafekitsune

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justevelynnnn · 2 days ago

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I want to be more

Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.

Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending

(this is barely proofread too)

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..

It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.

The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.

You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.

You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.

The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.

You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.

You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.

But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.

His name was Logan Howlett.

He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.

At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-

But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.

But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.

He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.

Logan logan logan.

His first encounter with you left an impression.

A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.

He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.

Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.

“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.

Did you want him to have your real or work name?

“It’s y/n.” You said softly.

“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”

You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.

You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.

You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.

You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.

The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?

It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.

You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.

You felt spoiled.

He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.

Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.

You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.

He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.

And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?

You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.

You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.

Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.

The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.

“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”

“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”

“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.”

You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.

Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

These deep feelings.

Limerence.

There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.

Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.

But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.

You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.

However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”

He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.

“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”

You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.

“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.

Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?

“That’s the issue, doll.”

Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..

“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.

“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”

You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.

“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.

Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.

You want to puke.

“Logan-”

“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.

You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.

“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”

“Oh, applesauce…why not?”

“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”

“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”

“Y/n…”

“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.

You swivel back around.

“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.

You’re going to be drinking for days.

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine angst #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #brothel #post ww1 #logan howlett angst #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut

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miss-floral-thief · 1 year ago

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Oops o forgot

To use deodorant

#personalice #oh well #I’m just going for a quick drink and not like an outing #so I can wipe myself down afterwards #still inconvenient to sweat tho #tho idk if mine is rly anti perspiration even tho my larger bottle says ‘dry spray ’#Altho there’s #something blue on my hands? maybe it’s the off spray bc it’s not makeup #unless my tie dye shirt is #coming off but it’s a newer one and not some #old school one that was hand dyed or so

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shatterthefragments · 2 months ago

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I’m becoming who I’m meant to be, slowly.

I’m inhabiting my body as a home as I make it such that it is a home for me.

💖😌✨

Also it’s a lovely studio! Masks required, hepa filters running, quiet area, but still near a bus route, was quiet once some of the people left (my artist was also super surprised that all of the tables were in use when they arrived at the shop too!!) and even though we didn’t chat (they put in their faq basically that they often forget to chat so bring headphones or whatever to do while they work) it wasn’t awkward or anything. It felt like such a safe space and I adore it so much :) (and it’s more local to get to than the other one that I’m definitely also going to go back to too at some point hopefully this year) (yay local queer owned covid cautious studios!!!!!)

#shatters’ tattoos #shatters’ fragments #ok time to eat something else #bc it’s been a while since my last meal even if I took breaks while tattoo #had a juice box for the first break before we drew the plant in there #and then before we did my leg while they were printing out the design I had a granola bar and water #and then afterwards I had a chocolate bar and another juice box and water #and then for the buses home I just had some water between buses but considered if I wanted a fourth juice box today but I didn’t really #but now I’m a bit hungry #today was fucking WEIRD at first #like popping in real quick to work?!?#class!! which I’m actually SUPER EXCITED for and about its great so far #and then walked around with a classmate who’s probably now my friend and popped into a bookstore #but it was super hot by then too #so I went off to get close to the studio #and had sushi in the shade of the parking lot before walking over #and trying to like. drink water and stay hydrated before going in #was definitely intimidated by how many people were in the shop at first #they said that it was highly unusual for all chairs/tables to be in use at once #(and they own the place!!)#but it’s such a lovely and welcoming space tbh #I’ve been to the studio once before for a market #but this is the first time I’ve been while it’s set up as a tattoo studio (it’s usual use)#and it’s just so good 💖#truly made my day really nice at the end #finally got to cool down quite a bit once I was sitting still and then laying down for the tattoos #(…actually I’m a little annoyed I paid $9 for coffee this morning actually but alas anyway)#and it was just. SO NICE #similar vibes but like cozier than the other shop I go to #it has less tables and its more private and accessibility is a huge thing there

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thealbatrovss · 2 days ago

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wind song // logan(2017) x fem mutant reader

(mini series)

synopsis : you dream of a life without your powers. logan needs them to help locate some dead guys cash. a roadtrip to the Nevada desert with your ex was always bound to be a mistake. but, maybe it wasn’t.

Chapter 1 - blood money

chapter summary: after breaking up over a year ago, you reunite with logan at a diner in Texas. he needs a favor.

warnings: 18+ ONLY // MDNI - suggestive content, mature themes/subject matters, death, swearing, eventual violence and smut.

word count: 2k+

wind song masterlist // my other masterlist

The coffee was burnt. You pretended to like it that way.

The white mug was too hot to hold with your hands, so you opted for a straw instead. You found it in the corner of the booth. That earned some stares from the old couple eating lunch a few tables over and your waitress.

“That’s gonna melt the plastic right into your drink, you know?” Her Texan accent wasn’t as thick as the other waiters. There was red lipstick on her teeth. “Just wait for it to cool down.”

You picked the plastic tube from the liquid, inspecting it. It was still intact. “Looks fine to me.” And you popped it back in. There were sugar packets on the table. They reminded you of pixie sticks. You started to feel nauseous.

The lady shook her head, putting her notepad with your orders away. “Whatever gets you through the day.” And she left to go get your food. Or complain to her coworkers about the woman melting plastic instead of sugar into her coffee.

You wanted to drink it like normal. But you’d used a similar cup like this before to solve a case a few months back. It just didn’t feel right. Objects never did after they helped you locate the missing person. Another strange aspect of your powers. It’s like the people lived on through their things.

You could see his car pulling in through the driveway. He was right on time. Like always.

All kinds of emotions were running through you. You’d just arrived here out of state for a funeral. You were still wearing the black dress from attending this morning. Logan had called as you debated in your car whether to attend the after-services or not. Guess you got your answer. But it was still a surprising one.

You hadn’t seen or heard from him in over a year. Not since the incident.

The front doors opened, and the bell rang to let everyone know. You sat up a little straighter, nervous fingers folded in your lap.

Logan seemed to bring down the entire room as soon as he walked in. He wore a white tank top, with a white button-up over it. His black suit jacket was covered in specks of dirt and dust. His beard was a lot fuller now, his hair a bit shorter. Both growing gray. It glistened with the beads of something that smelled like moonshine.

For the first time in your life, you could see his age catching up to him. And the exhaustion. It was written on the bags underneath his eyes. In the way he held his aching knuckles to his chest, staring at where his claws hid.

He took a quick swig from his flask, ignoring the waiter's glare from behind the main counter. He was looking for you, drink still in hand.

You let him find you.

“Nice dress.” He started with. Your heart rate increased. You bit the inside of your lip. He still had that gravitational pull that made people want to either run and hide or get closer to him. He slid into the booth across from you. The sugar packets made shaking noises. He left his flask out on the table. “What’s the occasion?”

Your hands played with the black fabric ending at your knees. “Funeral.”

Logan nodded his head in understanding. He took out his glasses, looking at one of the menus.

“Oh, I’ve ordered already.”

“And I’m hungry as shit.”

“I ordered for you.” You emphasized.

Logan paused, staring at a picture of a salad. His eyes peeked out over the menu. “The usual?”

You nodded, swirling the straw around in the cooling cup of coffee. “Most places have what you like.”

He removed his glasses, rubbing at the irritated spot on his nose. “Next time, let me get my own tab.”

When she returned with the food, you ate in silence.

Logan stuffed a plate of sausages in his mouth before finishing attacking the eggs. He occasionally reached for his flask, like it was something he had ordered.

You didn’t feel like eating. The sugar was grinding in your ears. You’d have to take this sandwich to go. The coffee was going cold now.

“So,” you started. You were suddenly aware of how sticky the seat was beneath you. “Why did you call?”

“Why did you answer?” He kept eating. His fork made noises when it hit the plate.

You thought about the weeping mother and the small casket. “Well, it was either this or dwell on my last case. And I’d rather talk with an old friend than think about any of that.”

He stopped chewing, swallowing hard. “Well, then you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Your brows knitted. You leaned back against the headboard. “I’m listening.”

Your ex took another shot of the hard alcohol. It was still the afternoon. But alcohol didn’t have the same effect on him as it did on other people. His abilities wouldn’t allow it. But it was still a problem.

He stuffed the flask back in his shirt pocket, only after it was empty. “I’ll make it short. A client of mine owes me a lot of fucking money.”

You crossed your arms. “How much?”

He put up five fingers. You remembered how they used to squeeze your hand in comfort. Sometimes they’d wipe away your tears. Other times they gripped your thighs and pulled you closer.

It was bittersweet. Those sweet and intimate memories. Even as the world continued to go to shit and mutants became less and less, you still had each other. Until something took that all away. You could recall the whistle ringing from your lips. Your cheeks were cold during the early days of fall. Logan was yelling about how you should’ve seen this coming. But he knew how your abilities worked. They didn’t work on the living.

“5,000?” You guessed.

“50,000.” He corrected.

Your jaw dropped. “Jesus. Were you his chauffeur or were you sleeping with him?”

He smiled. It was a weak one but it was still there. If you weren’t so used to it you would’ve missed it. “Look, he was a rich asshole who promised me a big tip. That's all.”

“That’s not a tip. That’s my salary.”

Logan set his utensils down after taking one last bite. “Then you need a fucking raise.”

“Or a new profession.” You joked. But it came out flat.

Being a private detective could’ve been a more fulfilling job. If it wasn’t for the fact that your mutant gene gave you the ability to track any person or creature. But only if they were dead.

You’ve worn this dress too many times to too many funerals.

Logan seemed like he was fighting with himself, whether to respond to that confession or not. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled out a fancy fountain pen from his jacket. “This is all I have of his.” He placed it on the table in front of you. “Will this be enough?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. “I haven’t even agreed to anything yet. What makes you think he’s dead in the first place?”

“Because, when he called saying he had the money, I heard gunshots. Then the phone went out. It’s been three weeks.”

“And no one’s reported him missing?” That was odd.

“Nope.” He looked from your eyes to your lips. “He never even told me where he was. I think he was out of state. And before you ask, yes, I already tried to trace the call. Nothing.”

The waitress came by, handing you a to-go box and whisked away his empty plates. Her eyes lingered noticeably longer on Logan as she walked back into the kitchen.

You continued your questioning. “Does he have any family? Maybe they know where he is.”

“No. He told me he was an only child. Parents died by the time he was 40. No other living relatives. People say a lot of shit when they’re drunk in the back of a car. Or just damn lonely.” His hand instinctively went to rest on the flask in his pocket. He motioned towards the pen. “If you need more than this, I can get it.”

You hesitated to pick it up. “You know how much I hate doing this.”

“I know.” He licked his lips, leaning towards you. “Yet, you’re still looking for people.”

It was true.

As much as you hated your powers, as much as they hurt; they could be used to help. Even if that meant only ever bringing people back to their families dead instead of alive.

A quote from your old Professor echoed in your mind. From a time long lost in the unforgiving hands of time and a powerful mind.

“Sometimes, doing the right thing can hurt you. But, it can give peace to the ones that you’re helping. What you give up, you give away. For good or for evil, now that’s up to you.”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. An old friend was asking for your help. But would he do the same for you? There was a time when you would’ve never doubted it. You hated yourself for that.

The pen felt icy in your hands. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe he was dead. You could already feel something beating through the object. It didn’t feel alive. “When do we start?”

A glimmer of light radiated off of Logan’s rugged face. For a moment there, it was like he was his old self again. The light flickered out just as quickly as it came. “Tomorrow morning. 8 am. I’ll pick you up.” He placed a 20-dollar bill next to your half-empty coffee cup.

You stared at the dead man on the paper. “I’ve already paid.”

“This is for the tip.” He stood, a slight uneasiness in his steps. He seemed so tired.

Were his regenerative powers still getting worse?

He paused before heading out, messing with the cuff of his sleeves. “Don't worry. I’ll make sure you get paid for this.”

I don’t want your damn money. I want to be rid of this haunting.

You let him think you were deep in thought. You tapped your chin. “I’ll take 60%.”

Logan put a hand on his hip. He sighed. “Now don’t piss me off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Would never dream of doing that.” You packed your untouched sandwich away in the box.

Logan cursed under his breath. It sounded like he was muttering between fuck it and fines. When he left the small diner the room felt lighter again.

You watched him drop his keys in the parking lot and stomped them further into the Texas dirt.

“See, I told you!” You turned to your waitress who was pointing at your cup. The plastic was starting to crinkle and melt. You could see it poking out from the brim of the liquid. “Next time, just drink the damn thing normally.”

I would if I could.

Logan was already gone by the time you looked back out the window. The sugar packets shook as you stood to leave. The cup rattled. The pen pulsed in your hands. Like it was trying to mimic a heartbeat it no longer had. You could feel your powers radiating through the objects.

That night you played with the lamentation on the corner of a photo.

Your motel room was small but surprisingly homely. There was a TV playing at full volume in the room next door. It kept you awake. Sounded like an action movie. It seemed to go on forever.

The photo was of you and Logan. You still kept it in your wallet. It was hidden behind old coupons and a stick of gum. Sometimes you forget it was even there. Most of the time you self soothed by peeling off the lamentation from the corners. The sides looked like the melting straw in your cup of coffee.

It was 9 pm. You ate most of your sandwich. A corner piece sat in the to-go box on your bed. Someone finally shut the TV off. A dog was barking in the parking lot. Cigarette smoke hugged the air. You put the photo back into your wallet, this time behind your credit card.

“Logan’s phone.” You heard Caliban's voice sing through the line. “Sometimes mine if he lets me use it.”

It was nice to hear from him again. A tracker similar to you but only with mutants. He was always mesmerized by how your powers worked. He used to show you the sketches of the figures you blew into the wind when you whistled. You wondered if he still kept those drawings.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“I know. He’s still got your contact name in his phone.”

You smiled a little. “Is he there?”

“He’s working. Some bachelor party, I think. He’s probably pissed he left his phone here.”

You looked at the fountain pen sitting on the nightstand. “When he gets back, could you tell him we’re headed to Nevada.”

“Nevada? What the hell are you two going to do up there?” He paused for a brief moment as if he just remembered. “Oh yeah. The blood money.”

“Did he promise you a cut too?”

He let out a laugh. “Logan can hardly part with a 5-dollar bill these days. I’ll probably get paid shit for watching Charles while you two go off getting married in some shitty casino or something.”

“It’s just a business trip. Nothing more.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, my friend.”

There was a storm happening outside. The wind howled like a river of ghosts against the motel walls. You thought you heard old teammates and friends whispering in it.

A cough came from the other line. “By the way, if you come across a Vegas snow globe, I’d very much like to add it to my collection.”

“Sure.” The howling outside continued. “Take care, Caliban.”

“You don’t want to ask how Charles is doing?”

You took a sharp inhale. You didn’t need to ask. You knew exactly how he was doing. And you didn’t want to talk about him right now. Maybe some other time. You kept putting it off. You’d deal with that guilt another time.

“I’ll get you that snow globe.” And you hung up.

You fell asleep, still wearing that black dress.

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