#Spoke NYC

[nobodyinthegraveyard]

This headline is too fucking funny oh dear god

[emmafallsinlove]

so I’m listening to the podcast i’m all in and like. i kind of disagree with scott about the fact that in his eyes lorelai’s was more justified than jess in the back porch scene in 2.05, and like. but they said something kind of smart and it’s the fact that we as the audience are so used to rory but jess isn’t rory.

[shegottosayit]

The middle right woman in the white and orange print shirt is New York State attorney general Latisha “Tish from Brooklyn”James. My attorney general is cooler than yours!

[kayandthegoldendays]

sure I could let myself get overwhelmed by the fact I’m literally running around on an island helping deliver babies when I can barely manage being a truly functional adult OR I could make peace with this being part of the plot and maybe by the time I’m overseas attending births solo I’ll understand what my accountant keeps trying to explain.

[cameronsprincess]

Office Hours — R.C

request: Hi!! Can you write like a CEO rafe and his wife who comes to visit him at the office and he fucks her on his desk where everybody can hear her moaning his name and then he walks out all smug, leaving for the day to continue pleasing his wife at home (from anon)

CW: CEO!Rafe, wife!reader, semi public sex(?), unprotected sex, choking, slapping, degrading, breeding kink. and i think that’s it.

likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated<3

note: CEO Rafe is so sexy to me, and this is an NYC AU, not in the OBX💞

Rafe always loved when you came to visit him at work. Your husband had a very busy schedule, multiple meetings, business trips, and visiting location sites for new businesses he wanted to open up.

It was a rarity that you caught him in the office, alone and with some time to spare for you.

So when he called you today, asking you to come in to the office to see him, you jumped on the opportunity.

“Mrs. Cameron, he’s in his office waiting on you.”

You smile at Rafe’s assistant, nodding your head as you make your way down the long hallway of the building. Reaching the end of the hall, you stand in front of his office door, Rafe Cameron, CEO, is in big bold letters across the middle.

You push the door open, — not bothering to knock since he knows you’re coming — and find him sitting behind his desk, his office phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he spoke sternly to whoever was on the other end.

He looks up, bright blue eyes finding yours as he smiles softly, “I gotta call you back.” he says to whoever was on the other end of the line, hanging up before they can even respond.

“Hi beautiful.” he says, smiling and standing from behind his desk, making his way toward you.

You smile widely, shutting the door behind you and meeting his steps, wrapping your arms around his neck and lifting on your toes to kiss his lips. “Hi handsome, I’ve missed you.”

Rafe melts against your lips, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. His hands slide down your body, wrapping around your waist, large hands gripping your ass firmly through your tight black leggings.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours and smiling. “I’ve missed you baby, I promise, I’ll take some time off soon and we’ll go to the house in the Bahamas, spend some real time together, okay?”

You smile up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod your head in agreement. Rafe dips his head down, his lips finding yours again and slowly kissing you.

His tongue makes its way into your mouth again, brushing with yours as his hands begin roaming the expanse of your body. You moan softly into his mouth when his fingertips rub against your clothed thighs. It’d been a few days since you’d had your husband, and you were craving him, in more ways than one.

“Rafe, I need you.”

He smiles against your lips, backing the two of you up until your back hits a wall. He presses his hips into you, the feel of his already hard cock pressed against your clothed core making your breath catch in your throat.

“Yeah? My wife wanna be fucked in my office? Let everyone hear how good I make her feel?”

You suck in a sharp breath, mumbling a one word response, “Yes.”

His eyes darken and he places his hands on the underside of your ass, lifting you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to his desk, setting your ass down on the sleek wood surface. You watch him intently as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off and leaving his broad, tanned chest and abdomen on display.

You reach out to run your fingers down his abs, but he slaps your hands away. “Nuh uh, baby. No touching.”

You frown, letting out a frustrated sigh that makes Rafe smirk. “You gonna be a fuckin’ brat? Huh? Just let me know, I can make you wait if that’s what you want..”

Your eyes go wide, shaking your head fast as you say, “No no no, ‘m sorry baby, I just… I need to feel you.”

He smirks, popping the button on his black dress slacks before working the zipper and shoving them down his legs, letting the material pool at his feet. Your eyes trail from his face down to his tight black boxer briefs, the hard, thick outline of his cock pressed firmly against the thin material.

“See something you want baby?” he teases, placing his right hand over his hard-on, squeezing himself lightly, a low, raspy groan escaping him.

Your thighs squeeze together, your eyes glued on his hard dick. “Yes. Want your cock, need to feel you stretch me, please.”

Rafe growls, taking one long step toward you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your leggings, ripping them down your legs. He hisses in a breath when he sees you’d opted for no panties today.

“Fuck, you plan this? To come in here and seduce me during office hours?” 

You can’t contain the mischievous smirk that spreads across your lips. “Maybeeee.”

“Mhm, my wife is such a fucking slut. I love it.”

You open your mouth to respond, but Rafe slapping your cheek has you gasping instead. The sting from his hand has more arousal pooling between your legs, and you whine, your clit throbbing with need.

“Rafe, please. Fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, it’s been four days, I-”

Rafe shuts you up, his lips aggressively finding yours. He wraps his fingers into the back of your hair, pulling your head back to allow him better access to your mouth. His tongue finds yours, fighting for dominance while his free hand slides its way under your ass, lifting you up just enough so your soaked cunt is level with his hard dick.

He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling your lips from his as his darkened over eyes find yours. “Ready for me baby?”

You whimper out a small “yes” and he removes his hand from your hair, using the now free hand to grip his cock in his hands. He strokes himself softly, spitting down onto the base and spreading it around his length with his hand.

He scoots your ass further down the desk, running his swollen head through your arousal slick entrance before he slowly pushes into you. You hiss in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to push into you agonizingly slow.

“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”

A loud moan slips past your lips, the feel of his thick cock stretching you out making your brain short circuit.

“F-ffffuck, Rafe. Please move, need to- need to feel you move..”

A low growl rumbles in Rafe’s chest, and he slowly pulls out, slamming himself back inside of your warm, wet cunt. You gasp loudly, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails digging into the soft skin of his back.

Rafe begins to roughly pound himself into you, his left hand under your ass and keeping you pressed into him while he right hands makes it’s way around your throat, squeezing hard and forcing your eyes on him.

“This what you wanted? Huh? Wanted me to fuck you like a slut in my office, let all my employees hear you fucking scream for me?” He pauses, removing his right hand from your throat and smacking at your face again, a deep, red handprint left burning on your cheek. “Go on, fucking scream baby, let everyone in this goddamn place know who the fuck owns this sweet pussy.”

You’re a whimpering, moaning mess. Your brain is so foggy from how good his cock feels buried deep inside you, how his filthy words and aggressive actions on your body turn you on even more. You can’t form a coherent response, and this only pushes Rafe to be meaner, and fuck you harder.

He slowly pulls himself from you, making you whine at how empty you feel without him filling you. His large hands grip at your hips, lifting your ass from the desk and flipping you so your stomach lay flat on the surface now. He slaps at your ass harshly, making you scream in pain and pleasure. “Answer me! Who the fuck is making you feel this good? Hmm? Who owns this fucking pussy, baby?”

He slams back into you, his hands firmly planted on your hips so he can pull you back to meet each of his thrusts.

Screaming his name, you answer his question. “You! You, Rafe. Feel so fucking good! You own my pussy, all for you!”

He slaps your ass again, a dark chuckle falling from him, “That’s right baby, I fucking own you and this sweet fucking pussy. Never forget that, aight?”

Tears fill your eyes, your pussy clenching tightly around your husband’s thick cock as he repeatedly pushes in and out of you at a fast and rough pace. “Y-yes sir. Never gonna forget it, fuck!”

The first few tears spill past your eyes as Rafe continues to brutally fuck himself into you from behind. Your walls clench around him tightly, strings of curses and moans slipping past your lips. “Fuck, Rafe. Ah ah, s’close baby, fuck!”

Rafe leans forward, the weight of his body on your back as his lips hungrily kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. “Go on baby, make a fucking mess on my cock and desk, let go f’me.”

That was all it took, Rafe kissing harshly at your neck and his permission to let go sent you tumbling over the edge, your pussy tightening once more as you came undone around him.

He fucks you through your high, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he curses under his breath. “Gonna cum baby, gonna fill this pretty little pussy up, make you a mama. You want that? Wanna have my babies?”

“Y-yes! P-please! Want your cum, Rafe! Wanna have all your babies, fuck, please please.”

Rafe’s thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he pushes into you a few more times. You let out a loud moan when you feel his hot cum spill inside you, painting your inner walls white.

“Fuck!” Rafe shouts as his hips slow, burying himself to the hilt and stilling inside you.

Your body collapses onto the desk, the cool surface feeling good against your hot, sweat slick skin. You wince when Rafe pulls his softening cock from inside you, pulling up his boxers and slacks before grabbing his white button up off the floor.

You hear him disappear into his private bathroom that’s in his office, the sound of the sink turning on making you lift your head from the desk.

He walks behind you, gently laying your head back down as he brings the warm, wet hand towel between your legs and cleaning you up. Once finished, he tosses the damp towel to the side, pulling your leggings back up your legs and lifting you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, your head resting against his firm chest. “I’ve missed you, thank you for that.” you say softly.

Rafe dips his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your tangled hair before whispering, “You’re welcome, baby. ‘M yours for the rest of the day.”

You lift your head, brows furrowed in confusion when you hear his office door open, multiple sets of eyes on the two of you before they all avert their eyes to the ground. You hide your flushed face in his neck, not wanting the attention on you when you know everyone knows what just took place in your husbands office.

You hear Rafe speak, “Angie, forward all my calls for the rest of the day. I’m going home for the day, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

His assistant clears her throat awkwardly, letting out a quiet “Yes, Mr. Cameron.” before Rafe begins walking the two of you out of his work building and to his car.

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[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1974 - ...but it was never meant to be

chapter summary: You and Logan have been living in the Canadian Rockies for almost 6 months, enjoying the peace and solitude that comes with it.

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is just fluff, at least until the end... but we're finally hitting the movies! and sorry for it being a bit shorter than the others, there are some ideas i'm saving for a future chapter :))

(p.s. the first sentence about the hotel in nyc is going to be very important to remember for a future chapter...)

warnings/tags: fluff, origins!logan, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, (beginning of) x-men origins, character death

series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7

Leaving was easy once you got past the one incident. You and Logan had stopped that day at a hotel a bit out of New York City only to be found by your father’s men.

But what happened was almost like magic. Logan, your Logan, took them all out with claws. At first you were bewildered, shocked at what you just saw. But now, after 6 months of living in the Canadian Rockies, it was normal.

Normal.

Mornings would start with the soft light streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over your shared space as Logan brewed coffee and you stretched, enjoying the easy comfort of it all.

Logan had found work quickly enough as a lumberjack, something that kept him outside and busy, and it suited him. Meanwhile, you’d stumbled upon a small animal shelter in the nearby town. You’d started going once or twice a week, helping out with the dogs and occasionally picking up shifts to keep yourself busy and connected to some semblance of normal life.

The routines you fell into together were quiet, steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt grounded. Though you missed New York sometimes, especially the volunteer work at the retirement home, the silence of the woods and the small town was a peaceful change.

Not only were things peaceful, but Logan had started opening up to you in the quiet of your cabin, usually in the early morning or after one of his nightmares. It started with little things—details about his mutation, his healing ability. Then, as the days blurred into weeks, he told you about his age and the wars he’d fought in, his voice quiet, words weighed down with old memories.

One chilly morning, you found him staring out the window, his gaze distant as he sipped his coffee. You moved up beside him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you alright?”

He looked down at you, a flicker of a smile breaking through the shadows. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but calm.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offered, watching his face closely.

Logan considered this for a moment, then took a long breath. “I think… just realizin’ how long it’s been since I had somethin’ like this,” he finally admitted, a glint of honesty in his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a road, darlin’.”

You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm. “I don’t need to know everything, Logan. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He gave a short nod, letting his hand rest over yours, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wrapped around yours, holding them a moment longer than necessary.

---

Life in the cabin wasn’t extravagant, but there was a certain charm in the simplicity. Nights spent by the fire, mornings with the scent of pine and fresh coffee, and the comforting weight of Logan’s arm draped over you as you both drifted into sleep. But there were also the little bumps—like the time you tried making him dinner.

It had been a stew recipe, something you thought would be foolproof. You’d stirred, added spices, tasted… but when you served it, the look on Logan’s face was priceless.

He took a spoonful, eyebrows lifting as he held back a chuckle. “This a new recipe?”

“Okay, I get it—it’s not great,” you sighed, laughing a little as you took a bite yourself. “Alright, yeah, maybe it’s terrible.”

Logan chuckled, setting his spoon down. “It’s not so bad. I mean… it’s got heart.”

You nudged him, rolling your eyes. “Heart doesn’t mean it’s edible, Logan.”

“Maybe not,” he smirked, “but I’ll still eat it.” He winked, lifting another spoonful as he pretended to struggle through the bowl, making you burst into laughter.

---

Late one night, Logan awoke from one of his nightmares. You knew, even before he’d fully come to, just by the way he stiffened beside you. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, and you reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whispered.

He looked down at you, the muscles in his jaw tight. But after a moment, he nodded. “It was a long time ago. Just old ghosts.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “There’s been a lot of violence. Stuff… I don’t ever want you to have to see.”

“I know you’ve seen a lot,” you murmured, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “But you don’t have to go through it alone, Logan. Not anymore.”

Logan’s hand covered yours, and he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but searching. “You’ve been more than I deserve, Y/N,” he said quietly.

Your heart twisted, and you reached up to cup his face. “Logan, I don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. All that matters is who you are now.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky man,” he whispered, his voice low.

He held you close that night, your presence calming the echoes of a past that seemed finally willing to rest, if only for a while.

---

One day you were trying to make something simple, roast chicken and potatoes before Logan got back from work. You diligently checked the oven, making sure that nothing was burning, until Logan came home, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood up from the oven.

Logan’s hands settled warmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked over at the oven. The familiar, steady weight of him grounded you, even as you felt your heart give a quick little skip at the simple, domestic gesture.

“Smells good in here,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he took in the scent of roasting chicken and herbs. “Didn’t know you were this fancy in the kitchen.”

You let out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Fancy might be a stretch. I’m just hoping it doesn’t come out dry.”

His arms tightened just a bit, pulling you closer. “Even if it did, I’d still eat it,” he said, a hint of that playful glint in his voice. “Means a lot, havin’ you here. Feels like… home.”

A warmth rose in your chest, one that went beyond the physical, and you leaned back into him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I could get used to this too.” You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Long days, quiet dinners, just us.”

“Us,” he echoed, his voice softer, thoughtful. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something unspoken yet weighty. His thumb brushed small, slow circles along your hip, as if anchoring himself in the moment, and he gave you a slight smile that didn’t quite mask the intensity behind it.

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you felt a shift in his posture, almost like he wanted to say something but was holding back. He looked at you in that way he sometimes did—like he was seeing more than just you standing there in your small, cozy kitchen. Maybe he was seeing all the days stretching ahead, those simple moments you’d have together, and the weight of that left him speechless.

“Logan?” you asked, brushing a hand along his arm.

He blinked, then smiled, the intensity in his gaze easing back into something gentler. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, with just the faint hum of the oven and the quiet, steady beat of Logan’s heart against your back. In the quiet of your little life together, things felt simple, natural. Here, there were no expectations, no obligations—just the two of you, building something real out of those little, ordinary moments.

But later that night, as you drifted off beside him, Logan stayed awake, lost in thought. His hand brushed over the small velvet box in his drawer, the ring that had waited all this time, the one that had been meant for you once before. He ran his thumb along the edge, thinking about when the right time might be—or if he’d even have the chance. For now, though, he’d savor each day, each quiet moment, holding on as tightly as he could.

---

You lay nestled between Logan’s legs on the couch, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you read, while he watched TV, idly sipping his beer. His free hand drifted up and down your arm absentmindedly, and you could feel the faint rumble of his quiet breaths beneath you. There was a calm in the cabin tonight—a peace you’d found only since being with him.

“What’s got you so hooked?” he asked, glancing down at your book with a smirk. “Looks like you’re deep in it.”

You tilted the book so he could see the cover, Jaws. “It’s a book about a shark.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “a shark, huh?”

You turned back to the book, keeping a small smile hidden. “Kind of. It’s a little deeper than just a shark, though.”

“Deeper than a shark, huh?” Logan smirked, shifting slightly to glance down at you, looking mildly amused. “Didn’t think a fish story could be that interesting.”

“It’s not just any fish, Logan,” you said, letting your hand rest on his as you settled back into his warmth. “This shark’s on a whole other level—a menace, basically unstoppable. And there’s all this tension between the people in the town, like who’s responsible, what to do, whether they even believe it’s happening.”

He gave a soft grunt of understanding, taking a sip of his beer. “Guess I can see why you’re hooked. Townsfolk fighting over a monster they can’t get rid of… kinda familiar.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, a glint of curiosity in your eyes. “You got experience with monsters, Logan?”

“More than you’d believe, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes holding that far-off look he sometimes got when his mind slipped somewhere else, somewhere harder. But his grip on you stayed gentle, grounding him here.

There was a moment’s quiet, then he smirked, leaning down closer. “But I could take out your shark, no question.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, closing the book and giving him a look of mock skepticism. “A great white shark, Logan. One that can bite clean through a boat. I think even you’d have some trouble with that one.”

He snorted, giving you an exaggerated look of disbelief. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’d have it done in five minutes.”

You laughed, poking his chest. “I’d like to see that. You, in the water, with a shark. You’d probably scare it off.”

“Probably,” he chuckled, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something genuine. “But I’d do it for you.”

His words caught you off guard, softening the teasing banter into something warmer, something real. You looked up at him, and the light in his eyes held a familiar steadiness, a promise you hadn’t expected. You felt a smile creeping up, one that made your heart beat a little faster.

“That’s sweet of you, Logan. But don’t go risking your life over a shark.”

He shrugged, giving a small grin. “Risking my life’s kinda my thing.”

With a smirk, you shifted to put your arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to fight any sharks. I just need you here, safe, preferably not trying to tackle any more sea monsters.”

Logan’s hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Don’t worry, darlin’. For you, I’d stay outta trouble… or at least, try.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, a promise in every kiss, every touch.

When you pulled back, he let out a small sigh, looking at you with a softness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“Now,” you murmured, your voice quiet as you tried to keep the mood light, “how about you let me finish reading this book before you start making any plans to fight sharks?”

“Fine,” he chuckled, leaning back into the couch, his arms still loosely around you. “But I’m just sayin’, the offer stands.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting back to lean against his chest, your book in hand. But even as you returned to the words on the page, the comfortable silence between you filled every corner of the cabin, your heart warmed by the man beside you.

---

When Logan came home and removed his jacket, the sound of music drifted to his ears, mingling with the low hum of a vacuum. The cabin was warm, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside, the smell of pine and faint wood smoke greeting him like an old friend. The soft glow of late afternoon sun streaked through the windows, and as he stepped further in, he caught sight of you.

You were standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on your frame, the hem brushing just below the tops of your thighs. The vacuum roared in your hand as you cleaned, entirely oblivious to his arrival.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you. Something about this—a simple domestic scene—made his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that he couldn’t quite name.

“Y’know, you’re not supposed to wear clothes that fit me better than they fit you,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the vacuum’s roar.

Startled, you turned it off with a quick flick of the switch and looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. “Logan! You scared me,” you said.

“Didn’t mean to,” he replied, his tone warm as he pushed off the frame and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, and as he got closer, his eyes drank you in, lingering on the way the flannel gaped slightly at the neck, exposing the soft line of your collarbone. “Got a habit of sneakin’ up, I guess.”

You laughed softly, setting the vacuum aside. “If you were a little less loud, I’d think you were some kind of predator.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading as he reached for you, hands settling at your waist and pulling you close, “if I wanted to catch you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled between you, his voice a low rumble that always managed to make your knees feel just a little weaker. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath your palms. “Good thing I’m not running then,” you murmured, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours. “Good thing,” he echoed, before his lips claimed yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, pulling you tighter against him. The flannel you wore rose slightly under his touch, and you gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers found bare skin.

“Logan,” you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft plea.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his mouth trailing down your jawline, his scruff brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Think you should let me finish cleaning,” you teased, though your hands had already slid up to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the dark strands at the base of his skull.

He huffed a laugh, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your throat. “Nah, think I got a better idea.”

With a swift move, he bent and swept you off your feet, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. You let out a startled laugh, clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch. “Logan, the vacuum—”

“Vacuum’ll be there later,” he cut in, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. “Right now, you’re the only thing I’m worried about.”

He set you down gently on the cushions, his large frame hovering over you as he knelt on the floor, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the flannel higher. The intensity in his gaze sent a flush rising to your cheeks, your heart pounding in anticipation.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, his voice thick, raw. His hands paused, fingers curling just under the hem of the shirt. “Mind if I show you how much?”

You nodded, breathless, and he smiled—a rare, almost boyish expression that quickly dissolved into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for doubt about where his mind was. His hands roamed freely now, skimming along the curve of your thighs, pushing the flannel higher and higher, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the room.

“Goddamn,” Logan muttered against your lips, his voice thick, raw. His hands splayed across your thighs, gripping them as though grounding himself, his thumbs brushing along the tender skin there. “You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.”

A shiver ran through you, anticipation building as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed caresses. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved further down, sinking to his knees before you, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart.

"Logan..." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The intensity there made your breath hitch. “Let me take care of you.”

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, taking his time, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing. Your heart pounded as you felt his warm breath against your skin, so close to where you wanted him, needed him.

When his lips finally brushed against you, his tongue darting out to taste, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that spilled from your lips. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you with an expertise that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching his hair, your hips arching into him. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you trembling, your thighs pressing around his head.

Logan growled against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound of it—rough, primal—only spurred you on. He was relentless, his lips and tongue working you with a fervor that left no doubt about how much he enjoyed this, enjoyed you.

“Logan, I—” Your words dissolved into a whimper, your body tensing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His name was a mantra on your lips, each syllable punctuated by gasps and moans as he pulled you apart and put you back together with every stroke of his tongue.

When you finally shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave, he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, his hands holding you steady as you trembled, as your body arched and writhed against him. Only when you were completely spent, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough, gravelly, as he rose to his feet, his hands still resting on your thighs. “I could do that all night.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the couch, your body still tingling, your cheeks flushed. “You’re insatiable.”

“Says the woman who was just beggin’ me for more,” Logan teased, his voice a low rumble as his lips brushed against yours. His kiss was slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of him mixed with the remnants of your own release sent a thrill racing through you, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, keeping him close.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You sure you’re not tryin’ to kill me, darlin’? Feels like every time I get my hands on you, I lose a few more pieces of myself.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your fingers idly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”

Logan huffed a laugh, the sound deep and almost self-deprecating. His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, his gaze locked on yours. “For you, maybe not. For me? I’m startin’ to think I wouldn’t mind it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, a quiet confession that made your chest tighten. You reached up, brushing your thumb along the rough edge of his jaw. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You’re too important, Logan. To me.”

His expression softened, the hard edges of his usual demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”

“Maybe you should show me,” you said, your voice carrying a teasing lilt, though the heat in your eyes betrayed how serious you were.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous grin. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”

He let out a low growl, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “You’re damn right I don’t.”

In one fluid motion, Logan had you lifted, his hands firm as he repositioned you to straddle his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you settled against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, the solidness of him grounding you in a way that felt almost necessary.

“See? Told ya I had better plans than cleanin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

You tilted your head, giving him more access, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I think I’m starting to agree.”

Logan’s hands roamed over you, calloused fingers exploring the soft curves of your body with reverence. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements. It was deliberate, almost tender, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

His lips trailed a path along your neck, his scruff scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he admitted, his voice low, almost like a growl.

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

Logan’s hands gripped the hem of the flannel you wore, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he slowly lifted it. He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in the sight of your bare skin bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but the look in his eyes kept any hint of self-consciousness at bay. “You’re staring,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“Can’t help it,” he said simply, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of lookin’ at you.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, your hands threading through his hair as you pressed yourself against him.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he shifted beneath you, the hard press of him against your core drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He swallowed the sound with a groan, his grip tightening as he began to rock you against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”

His hands moved to your waist, guiding your movements as he kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. Each roll of your hips against him was maddeningly slow, the steady build of tension making you ache for more.

“Logan, please,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you tried to quicken the pace.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “Patience, Y/N. I’m not in a rush.”

You huffed in frustration, though the warmth in his gaze softened the sharp edges of your need. “You’re cruel,” you muttered, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“Cruel, huh?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he shifted beneath you. “Pretty sure you’ll be thankin’ me when I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound dissolving into a soft moan as he bucked his hips against you, the friction sending another wave of heat coursing through you.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice a mix of exasperation and longing.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yeah, darlin’? What do you need?”

“You,” you said simply, the single word carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you.

Logan’s expression softened, his teasing demeanor shifting as something deeper flickered in his gaze. “You’ve got me,” he said, his voice steady, his hands firm on your hips as though anchoring you to him.

Your heart stuttered at his words, the raw sincerity of them making your chest feel impossibly tight. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his as your fingers slid down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under your touch. “I’m glad,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss unhurried and deliberate, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. The heat of him seeped into your skin, grounding you as you moved against him. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that made you ache for more.

“Darlin’,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and strained, “you’re makin’ it real hard to take this slow.”

“Maybe I don’t want slow,” you countered, your tone teasing, though the way your breath hitched betrayed your own urgency.

Logan chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you as his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. “Trust me, you do,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your thighs tighten around him. “I want to feel every second of this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in his hair as he took his time exploring every inch of you. Logan’s hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he shifted on the couch, settling back further into the cushions.

The new angle pressed you more firmly against him, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed with another kiss. “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice trembling as you shifted your hips, testing the pressure between you.

Logan growled low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as his hands slid up your back. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his words heavy with reverence.

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he was looking at you, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. “Off,” you said simply, your voice breathless but firm.

He smirked, obliging without hesitation as he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Your eyes raked over him, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the scars that marred his otherwise flawless skin.

“Like what you see?” he teased, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“Always,” you replied, your hands trailing over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of old wounds. “You’re beautiful, Logan.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding back to your waist. “Don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”

“Well, they should have,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you as you moved against him, the steady grind of your bodies making your head spin. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, though the words were laced with affection.

“Not likely,” you quipped, a soft laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted again, one hand moving to undo the button of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you realized what was coming next, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze searching yours.

“Logan,” you said, your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

He nodded once, his hands steady as he slid his jeans down just enough, freeing himself. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as you took him in, your cheeks flushing at the sight.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he guided you closer, his hands firm on your hips.

You moved slowly, adjusting yourself over him, the heat of him against you making you tremble. Logan’s hands were steady, his thumbs brushing soothing circles on your skin as he guided you.

When you finally sank down onto him, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and fullness that made you moan softly. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You feel... Jesus, darlin’, you’re perfect.”

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he felt, the way he filled you completely. You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you began to move.

Logan’s hands guided your movements, his grip firm but not controlling as he let you set the pace. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming as you rocked against him, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

The steady rhythm built slowly, the intensity growing with each roll of your hips. Logan’s hands roamed over you, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, grounding you in the moment.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upward, matching your movements.

The new angle sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you clung to him. “Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Right here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the strain in it.

The intensity between you grew, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something more urgent as your bodies moved together. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch pushed you closer to the edge, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.

When you finally shattered, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Logan held you through it, his hands steady on your hips as your body trembled, his name falling from your lips in a breathless mantra.

He followed moments later, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening as he found his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other, the world outside forgotten.

“You okay?” Logan asked finally, his voice soft, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice muffled against his neck.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back to look at him.

Logan’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup your face. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your tone steady despite the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right I am,” he said, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish grin.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, the rest of the world fading away. For now, there was only this—only him.

---

You turned off the water that was filling the bathtub and dipped your hand in to test the temperature of the water. The water was just right—hot, with steam gently rolling off the surface. You stood, wiping your hands on the towel, just as you heard the front door creak open and close with a soft click. Logan’s footsteps padded quietly through the cabin, but you could still feel that familiar presence, that comforting weight of him even when he wasn’t yet in sight.

You barely had time to turn around before he appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of you standing by the tub. “Now this is a surprise,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Thought you’d like a soak after all that work you did today,” you replied, a little smile tugging at your mouth. You stepped aside, gesturing toward the water. “Go on, it’s ready.”

Logan’s gaze softened, though his smirk never quite faded. “So you’re spoilin’ me now, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Can’t have you overdoing it. You might be practically indestructible, but a hot bath never hurt anyone.”

He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. “Got a point there,” he admitted, tossing it onto the nearby chair. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over the familiar planes of his chest, scars crisscrossing his skin like a map of all the years he’d survived. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t mind—just kept undressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Logan stepped into the tub, easing himself down with a contented sigh as he settled into the water. He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the steam rose around him. For a moment, you simply watched him, a fond smile on your lips.

“Good?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “Better than good. You joinin’ me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “This one’s all yours. I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Before you could turn, Logan reached out, his wet hand catching yours. He looked up at you, his expression softer now. “Stay, darlin’. Least for a bit.”

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and you found yourself nodding, unable to refuse him. You sat down beside the tub, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of the water, and he let his hand rest in yours.

Logan kissed the top of your hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sure ya don’t wanna join me? Promise I don’t bite."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

He chuckled, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours, as if he was savoring this quiet moment between you. “Could use a little company, that’s all,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

“This is supposed to be a bath for you.” You replied, your own eyebrow quirked.

“I’d enjoy it more if you were in here with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at Logan, the corner of your mouth quirking into a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, maybe if you’re lucky.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the side of the tub. “Oh, come on. I’m always lucky when it comes to you.” His voice was a low murmur, pulling you in with that familiar, lazy charm he always seemed to have.

“Uh-huh, says the guy who tried to convince me he could take on a shark,” you shot back, crossing your arms, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re just full of bold ideas, huh?”

He chuckled, giving a shrug. “I stand by that. But I’m talkin’ serious here.” His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your wrist in a way that sent a warmth through you. “No sharks, no messin’ around. Just you, right here.”

The sincerity caught you a little off guard. The tension settled into something deeper as you looked at him, his hand steady on yours, like he was holding onto more than just the moment.

“I guess… I could keep you company,” you said softly, the lightness of your earlier words giving way to something quieter. You slipped out of your shirt, feeling Logan’s gaze follow you, his eyes dark with a warmth that made you feel both nervous and excited.

Sliding into the water, you settled in close to him, leaning back as his arms naturally came around you. The water was hot, relaxing every part of you, but it was Logan’s touch, the gentle press of his fingers tracing over your arm, that made you feel completely at ease.

“See?” he murmured against your hair, his lips grazing the top of your head. “Told ya this was a good idea.”

You hummed, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. “You did. Guess I should listen to you more often.”

Logan’s hand slid along your shoulder, trailing down your arm with a steady, careful touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch. You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, followed by the soft press of his lips just below your ear. The tension of the day melted away, leaving you relaxed and content in his embrace.

For a few moments, you both just stayed there, the only sounds the quiet rustle of water and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Logan’s fingers traced small, lazy circles along your arm, his other hand holding you close against him, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“So,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “this isn’t so bad, right?”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice rumbling against your back. “Peace and quiet. Just the two of us.” His hand dipped below the water, wrapping around yours.

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thought you’d be the type to get bored out here, all this peace and quiet.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, though his thumb continued to brush over the back of your hand. “Can handle a bit of quiet if it means you’re here,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him, your faces close. “Guess that makes two of us.” You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, the weight of those unspoken words lingering between you both.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his gaze soft and intent. “You gonna kiss me, or do I gotta ask real nice?”

“Always so impatient,” you teased, but you leaned in, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every second. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, your forehead resting against his.

Logan looked at you, a small, crooked smile on his lips. “See? Worth the wait.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “You really know how to charm a girl, you know that?”

“Only got one girl I’m tryin’ to charm,” he replied, his voice rough but warm.

Your smile softened as you nestled back against him, letting the silence settle over you both once more. The warmth of the water, the feel of his arms around you—it felt like a small eternity in that moment, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.

---

Trying to turn the conversation away from what Logan told you, about Stryker coming to visit him about a ‘mission’, you started to talk about your day, with Logan’s head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“The stray was matted but Tina started calling him Wolf. Said the dog reminded her of another animal.”

Logan hummed, his eyes still closed, “lemme guess, she showed you a picture of the animal from her book.”

You giggled, “yeah, she did. Gotta admit that dog looked quite similar to the wolverine in her book.” You tilted your head downwards to look at him, “Reminded me of you. Grizzly, sometimes dirty.”

Logan opened one eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Grizzly, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” You grinned, your fingers drifting through his hair in slow strokes. “Not just the dirty part, by the way. Wolverines are pretty fierce, don’t let much stand in their way.”

He let out a low chuckle, closing his eye again, seeming to relax further under your touch. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, comin’ from you.” There was a slight pause, and his voice softened a bit. “Not everyone’s a fan of the grizzly type.”

You scoffed lightly, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “Well, good thing I am. You know, even wolverines have a soft side somewhere.”

Logan huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? Don’t think I’ve got much of that left, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, you definitely do.” You brushed a thumb gently along his temple. “Trust me. Like today—taking the time to help out with that old couple’s truck, even after a full day’s work.” You smiled down at him, admiration clear in your gaze. “I see it, Logan, even if you don’t.”

He tilted his head a bit, opening his eyes and looking up at you, his expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, a smirk breaking the moment. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but he kept his usual, laid-back tone. “Guess I’m lucky you put up with me, huh?”

“You know it.” You winked, letting your fingers trail down to his jawline, and you felt him relax a little more, like he could melt under your touch. “Plus, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“Not an easy job,” he muttered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leaned into your hand, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N.”

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making your heart beat just a little faster, and you couldn’t help but lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, he just looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something else—a depth you didn’t need him to explain.

You shifted slightly, a small smile still on your face. “Now, about that dog—think you could convince Tina to bring him around here?”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips again. “Bringing a stray mutt up here? You sure?”

“Why not? He’d be a good watch dog for you when I’m not around,” you said, with a wink.

He chuckled, a bit softer this time. “Guess I’ll think about it.” Then, his eyes crinkled with that familiar spark of humor. “But only if you promise not to call me Grizzly in front of anyone else.”

You laughed, leaning back against the couch, his head still in your lap. “Deal.”

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, and you just let yourself soak up the comfortable silence, the simplicity of Logan resting there, perfectly at ease. And as your hand drifted gently through his hair again, you couldn’t help but wonder if this—these quiet moments—might be what you’d both been needing all along.

---

You were driving down a narrow road, the trees thickening as you made your way toward town. The familiar hum of a cassette player filled the car, and you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm. It had been a good week—a small but sweet milestone with Logan, half a year together, and you’d even managed to keep things peaceful in that cabin of his. Tonight was supposed to be simple, a little surprise you’d planned: a tiramisu. Probably the only thing you could bake to perfection.

You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—

The sight in the distance made your stomach twist. A figure stood in the middle of the road, dressed in black, unmoving, watching you with an unsettling focus. You slowed the car, blinking to see if you were imagining things. But no—he was still there, large and unflinching in the middle of the narrow path.

As you approached, your heart hammered against your ribs. Something about him was familiar, but not in any way that felt safe or warm.

You pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a cautious stop. The man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face coming into view under the faint sunlight streaming through the trees. His eyes were cold, almost amused, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

It was him—Victor. The man Logan had mentioned a few times, enough to make you know he wasn’t someone you’d ever want to meet, much less find waiting for you like this.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep, mocking, and calm in a way that was anything but reassuring.

You tried to keep your face calm, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Just heading into town,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt. “Is there…something you need?”

He tilted his head, like he was sizing you up. “Logan ever mention me?”

A chill crawled up your spine, but you kept your expression guarded. “Maybe once or twice.”

Victor took another step forward, his gaze raking over you with a twisted curiosity, almost like he was toying with the idea of letting you go—but only almost. “See, I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with him,” he drawled, his tone venomous, “and here you are, just making it easy for me.”

You felt a pulse of dread, instinct telling you to turn the car around and get out of there, fast. But you knew better than to provoke him. “Logan’s not here,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He smirked, that same cold expression never leaving his face. “I’m aware,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward you. “You think he’d leave someone like you on your own if he thought you’d be safe?”

Your heart raced, a knot of fear tightening in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, to stall him, to get yourself out of this, but nothing came to mind. The realization was dawning, and from the look in Victor’s eyes, he knew it too. There would be no bargaining, no reasoning with him.

"Didn't think Logan would be the type to leave someone behind. Guess I was wrong," he said, sounding amused.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, refusing to give in to the fear swirling in your chest. "Logan’s not here," you repeated, your voice firm.

"Like I said, I know," Victor replied smoothly, taking another step. His eyes traveled over the car, then over you, a twisted curiosity behind them. "But I figure, maybe you can pass along a little message for me."

Every instinct told you to run, but the car blocked you in, and Victor was only feet away. "What do you want, Victor?"

He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting under the dim light. "Simple. Tell Logan I said 'hi'... if you get the chance."

The dread in your stomach crystallized as he lunged forward. You tried to move, to react, but he was too fast. His hand closed around your throat, lifting you out of the car as though you weighed nothing, and you fought, kicking, clawing, anything you could think of to get free.

"You know," Victor’s voice was disturbingly calm, "he’s been through a lot. But there’s always that soft spot, that weakness he can’t seem to shake."

Desperation flared within you, and you kicked harder, one foot making contact with his chest. It only made him laugh, and he tightened his grip, his face drawing close enough that you could see the cold cruelty in his eyes.

"You’re just like all the others," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Maybe a little more stubborn, but that’s hardly new."

Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision, your breath coming shorter and shorter. You knew there was no getting out of this—not with him, not with a monster like Victor Creed.

But Logan...

---

Logan walked through the vegetation right by where he and the other guys were cutting apart a tree. He stopped short once he saw the head of an animal laying on the yellow grass.

“What you doing, Logan?” One of the guys asked from behind.

Logan looked around before seeing large scratch marks on a tree trunk, lined with red. “Y/N.” He whispered, before running down the hill and through the forest.

Once he hit the clearing, he could see the truck on the side of the road. Logan reached the car, his hands gripping the window frame as he scanned the empty interior. “Y/N…?” His voice was rough, the crack of worry breaking through, echoing in the quiet forest.

His eyes darted down to the disturbed earth, faint scuff marks in the dirt telling him where you might’ve been dragged. His heart hammered as he followed the path into the trees, every step growing heavier with dread as he moved through the dense underbrush, the silence unsettling.

And then, in a small clearing, he found you.

You were lying there, so still, your skin pale against the forest floor, hair fanned around you like a dark halo. Blood flecked the ground, stark and terrible against the greenery. He staggered, dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, one of them clenching briefly before he let himself touch you.

“Y/N…” he whispered, voice breaking as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing a smear of dirt from your cheek. Your eyes were closed, lips parted just slightly, as if you’d been trying to say his name. For a split second, he could almost pretend you were just asleep, and that any second you’d open your eyes, make some joke, or reach up to tug him down to you.

But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.

Logan’s breath caught, and he pulled you close, his arms cradling you as if he could shield you from the reality already etched into his heart. The rage simmered below his skin, burning through the grief, fueling the ache with something primal. He rocked back, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his face buried in your hair, trying to hold on to any last trace of you, the faint scent of you still lingering, even as everything around him felt like it was falling apart.

“You… You were supposed to be safe here,” he whispered against your hair, voice hoarse. “I shoulda been here. I shoulda…” His words trailed off into silence as he sat there, unmoving, clutching you in his arms as if the weight of his grief alone could pull you back.

He looked down at you, his thumb grazing over your cheek one last time, as though trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. “Y/N… I swear… I’ll make him pay.” The last words came out like a promise, a vow laced with the kind of anger only a man like Logan could bear. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before letting out a long, broken breath.

When he finally tore his gaze away from you, his eyes turned cold, a new resolve searing through him.

This wasn’t over.

umm... sorry??

i tried to make a different version of how logan got the name 'wolverine' to try and fit reader's personality, since she probably doesn't know about the myth kayla did.

next chapter will be x2!

[zuhaism]

⊹ ｡˚ 𓂃 ♡ Y/NRINA FAN FAVOURITES ?! 

[ navigation ] pt2

pairing : aespa5th!member x yoo jimin

synopsis : fan favourite y/nrina moments that convince them that they’re more than friends

genre : fluff

┈ clip 1

“we’re in sydney… nature. there’s y/n sunbathing on the grass”

giselle and karina walked over to you. her already closed eyes tightened as their shadows loomed over her. “she’s enjoying the moment..” karina explained to the camera.

“shes also asleep” giselle said with a giggle after nudging the girl and getting no reaction. “yah.. wake up!” karina poked y/n’s side. she flinched and warned her “do it again and ill jump you.”

karina giggled and poked the girls side deeper than before making her sit up. karina stood up and started running while y/n chased after her.

the clip got cut off to y/n on top of karina in the background of winter saying goodbye to the camera. they were on the grass as y/n sprawled her arms out over karina. if you squint you could see y/n cuddling into her.

y/nsairpods : nahh what they doing back there in 4:59

winterinari : we all saw that y/n

┈ clip 2

“helloooo everyonee !!”

“we raided y/ns room”

the live showed ningning, giselle and winter on y/n’s bed. it was currently 12:40am.

“what are you guys doing up?”

“we drank coffee hihi” said ningning as they looked for interesting comments.

“where’s y/n and karina?” read giselle aloud. “here they are.. unnie ill cover your face.” my’s could hear ningning whisper as they turned the camera around.

showing karina facing them straddling y/n on her gaming chair with her hands wrapped around y/n’s shoulder. while she played minecraft.

“haiii” karina waved with her bare face being covered by winters finger. “y/n say hi” winter spoke up.

she raised the hand that was on her keyboard and waved, her gaze still on the monitor. karina giggled and nestled her head deeper into the crook of the girl's neck, turning her attention back to her phone.

ningfordays : THEYRE DATING CMON

meowrina : mann if my girl aint clingy like that i dont want her (i want karina)

┈ clip 3

“now were done with our japan tour..” karina said still chewing on her food. beside her was y/n who eyed her food and opened her mouth.

karina picked up a piece of pickle and fed it to the younger girl. “you gave me vegetables.” y/n made a disgusted face.

“next time get ur own.” y/n made an annoyed face. “you look like a nerd with those glasses on .. chat do you agree with me. please comment ‘karina is a nerd’ i will be watching when this video uploads.”

y/n said whilst taking the camera from karina’s hands and fighting her off before she could get it back. “stop” karina sulked, going back to her food and ignoring y/n who shoved the camera on her face.

“atleast im a cute nerd.” y/n giggled at that.

“my cute nerd”

┈ clip 4

“hello everyone today i’ll be doing y/n’s make up yay!” karina said as she clapper her hands. she layed out the make up materials. “go wash your face first.” karina said to y/n who looked like she just had woken up. with her messy hair and oversized tshirt and pants.

“today we’re going to stroll around nyc but y/n is tired from jetlag so im helping her with her make up.”

y/n came back a little fresher than before. “come sit down.” karina motioned for y/n to sit infront if her. where she prepped a chair so the camera could capture it.

karina was standing as she did y/n’s make up until she got to her eyeliner. “agh this is hard while standing.” karina groaned as she pulled back from applying the eyeliner on y/n’s eyelid.

“sit” y/n pulled karina down on her lap as she was already towering above her. the camera caught the tips of karina’s ears turning red

y/n held karina close, steadying her as she worked on the eyeliner. making karina have the height advantage while y/n just closed her eyes and looked up.

ninging : ik what u are

tinniewinter : idk if i wanna be karina or y/n

┈ clip 5

“cut!” the choreographer called out. aespa was rehearsing for their synk hyper line tour in japan. everyone let out a breath of exhaustion as they let their muscles loose from posing.

karina approached y/n, who stood at her spot with her eyes closed, caught in a moment of post-performance relaxation. she didn’t even flinch when karina grabbed at her hoodie strings that got in her shirt from the vigorous dancing. fixing her hoodie.

she looked back up to face y/n and made eye contact with her. the camera caught the tip of her ears turning red. before she went in to wrap her arms around the girls shoulder. trying to ignore the flustered feeling from the sudden eye contact.

y/n, slightly taken aback, looked at karina with a hint of confusion. she returned the embrace by wrapping her arms around karina’s slim waist.

[brokenmenswhore]

Thanks luv! So, you are married to Aemond, yet despite his kindness to you, your sexual activities are treated as a duty (like your marriage). Aegon notices the situation and decides to give you a proper orgasm with his tongue. The issue is that he leaves you without fucking you (saving it for another time), and you can't help but crave him, you are desperate for him to fuck you (and when he does, he does it deliciously, making you feel like the luckiest woman in Westeros).

it’s 1am in nyc and this ask is driving me crazy i need him so bad

satiate | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

────── ☾ ──────

Aemond came with one final thrust of his hips, spilling his seed inside of you as you continued to lay stagnant beneath him.

Aemond pulled out of you and rolled over, laying next to you. “Hopefully that will take,” he spoke, catching his breath.

Tonight was not unusual. Since you wed Aemond, sex has been about duty. He was a perfect husband, and was very kind to you, even in bed, but it was always about duty over all else.

“Yes, hopefully,” you responded.

Aemond turned his head toward you. “Are you alright?”

You smiled, appreciative that he was attentive to you. “Yes, thank you,” you responded.

There was nothing wrong with Aemond, and your marriage worked in public. However, you wished there was more passion, more connection, more something in private. This could not be all that sex has to offer. Still, Aemond made sure you consented and were alright.

You knew his brother, Aegon, was familiar with sex, perhaps more than anyone else. You were always attracted to him, and you always wondered what it would be like if it were him trying to impregnate you.

You and Aemond had been married for exactly a fortnight, which meant he had worked to put an heir inside of you exactly fourteen times.

Each morning you rose with a dull aching between your legs that you could not seem to satisfy. You were not sure exactly what it was or how to resolve it, so you spent most mornings in a state of uncomfortableness until the aching went away.

You were subsequently more irritable during the first half of the day, shifting uncontrollably in your seat or nonstop switching the leg holding most of your weight when you stood.

Aegon took pity on you.

He noticed the change in your attitude since your marriage, and after five days, he picked up on you rubbing your thighs together as you tired to get comfortable for breakfast each morning. After nine, he could see the exhaustion in your eyes, and he knew it was from his brother occupying you deep into the hours of the night.

You had been with Aemond long enough for the pain and uncomfortableness of sex to fade away, but it hadn’t seemed to. That meant you that weren’t connecting the way you should, and Aegon suspected that exact truth.

“My brother is incapable of satiating your needs, hm?” Aegon spoke, crossing his arms as he leaned on the wall beside where you were standing and flipping through the pages of a book. You let him into your chambers because he asked to speak to you, but this was not what you expected.

You paused your actions and lifted your head, turning it toward Aegon. “Excuse me?”

“I can sense it,” he responded.

You scoffed, “I do not know to what you refer.”

“Put the book down.”

You looked up at him, and you don’t know why, but you did what he asked. You closed the book and placed it down on the table beside you.

“Lay down on the bed.”

“Do I look like someone-“

“Y/N,” Aegon cut you off, holding up a hand, “do you want my help or not?”

“Help?”

Aegon somewhat pitied your innocence, but he was aroused by it more. “Do you want me to make that aching between your legs go away?”

You took a deep breath. You were embarrassed, but you had nothing to be ashamed of. “I am simply sore. Impregnation can be rather intense.”

Aegon tutted, “no, no, that’s not it. You may not know what it is, but you know it’s not that.”

“Enlighten me then, if you are so well versed in such things,” you teased, trying to ease the tension.

“Are you going to lay down or not?” he asked, not taking the bait and maintaining his serious tone.

You walked over to the bed, sitting and shifting your back against the pillows as you straightened your legs and made yourself comfortable. “Like this?” you asked.

Aegon smiled at you. He thought that you were so cute for checking.

“If you’re comfortable,” he replied, crawling on top of the bed and kneeling in front of you. He pushed your legs apart, hearing your breath hitch as your dress was pushed up to your waist, exposing your small clothes to Aegon.

“May I?” he asked, tugging at the waistband of your small clothes.

You nodded your head yes and swallowed back your nervousness, watching him pull the fabric down your legs, completely exposing you to him.

“You feel the aching right now?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you answered.

Aegon dipped his head until he connected with your folds, placing a soft kiss there.

“What are you doing?” you questioned.

“I’m gonna taste you, darling.”

You shifted in your seated position. “What do you mean?”

Aegon only smiled in response, dipping his head again and running his tongue between your folds.

You gasped at the wet feeling, your head instinctively falling backwards. Aegon began to flick and swirl his tongue, and you moaned at the sensation.

This was completely new to you, and you questioned whether or not you could trust Aegon. You had heard the whispers about him, and how rough he liked things.

You also questioned if this was ethical. It was objectively unfair to bed another man while married, especially your husband’s brother, but despite how wonderful Aemond could be, it was evident that your marriage was political and dutiful only. If Aemond could run to whorehouses when he was not sleeping next to you, you could indulge yourself just this once.

Still, you were nervous about how Aegon would treat you.

“Aegon?”

You caught his attention, but he didn’t stop. He began to suck on your clit, gazing up at you as he did so, showing that he was listening to you.

“Are you going to be nice?”

Aegon moaned into your cunt before briefly pulling away, just long enough to say, “you can trust me.”

Something about the way he said it had you believing him, and your muscles relaxed beneath him as he kissed and sucked at your clit. The stimulation was new, and therefore it was becoming too much too fast.

“Aegon, I-“

Aegon only sped up, pressing his face further into you and carefully watching your face contort as you whined. He held a firm grip on your hips to ensure you stayed where he wanted you, and you felt the familiar aching rise in the pit of your stomach again.

“Aegon-“ you called again, but he still didn’t let up.

Within seconds you felt the aching coil snap, your legs shaking and your hips briefly lifting off the bed as you felt like the feeling you had between your legs for weeks was finally broken.

You caught your breath, and Aegon pulled away from you to level his face with your own.

“Good, huh?” he teased.

You couldn’t help yourself. Instead of responding, you pulled his face to yours, kissing him hard to show your thanks. Aegon’s body reacted instantly, reciprocating the kiss. You felt somewhat bad that it was so quick, but the feeling was so sweet and so new, and you couldn’t help yourself.

You tasted something salty-sweet on his lips. You pulled away and wiped a finger over your lips, sucking the digit and tasting the wetness, looking at Aegon in confusion.

“That’s you,” Aegon said, nearly growling at the sight.

Your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, which Aegon found amusing, as he kissed you again, before leaving the bed completely.

You shifted forward onto your knees and crawled to the opposite edge of the bed, trying to catch him but too weak to stand. “Where are you going?”

“Aemond will be back soon,” he said, adjusting his clothing.

You don’t know why you said it, but you were feeling bold, and what he made you feel was so good, you wanted more.

“Aegon, I want you.”

Aegon smiled and dropped his head momentarily. He turned back to you, as if he intended to say something, but he promptly righted himself and exited the room, leaving you alone to do nothing but crave him.

The following morning, the Targaryen-Hightowers were all gathered for breakfast with some guests, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Aegon. You desperately wanted more from him, and you wanted that much to be obvious to him, but it was hard to do much with Aemond present.

It was even difficult to speak to him; you and Aegon usually did not have private conversations. When he tried to speak to you without a group setting, you often blushed and found a reason to leave, unsure of how to speak to someone you were so attracted to, especially if they were not your husband.

However, right now, all you wanted was to be near him.

“Rather beautiful day it appears,” you spoke, approaching his chair, where he was already seated and drinking, despite the early hour.

“Wouldn’t know,” he said, taking a sip from his cup, “considering we’re inside.”

You sighed, your hormones taking over you as you leaned closer to him, speaking at a volume only he could hear. “Evidently, I just needed a reason to speak to you.”

Aegon shifted in his chair so he could see behind him. “And what would you need to speak to me for?”

“Speaking it not exactly what I need you for, Aegon, and you know it.”

Aegon took another sip. “I know not to what you refer.”

He tried to remain stoic, but you could see him holding back a smirk.

You began to turn away, “Very well, if you insist on forgetting, then I am sure that Aemond will be happy to satis-“

Aegon grabbed your wrist, and his features no longer had any hint of amusement. “I am rather sure he wouldn’t.” You knew any mention that his brother was better than him would immediately cause him to drop the wall he always had up.

“No, no, I can simply just ask-“

“You needn’t worry about doing such a thing. He wouldn’t be able to help you.”

You smiled. This is what you wanted. He left you hot and bothered, finally getting a taste of pleasure, and now you had him wrapped around your finger. You felt so empowered, so sensual, so powerful.

“And you believe yourself capable of satiating me?” you teased, completely ignoring the fact that you had in fact approached him to say that you needed him.

“Only I can,” he responded.

You pulled out of his grip and took residence by your husband’s side again, including yourself in the conversation he was having with two guests, as well as Heleana, who often stayed next to Aemond so that she didn’t have to do any of the talking.

When the meal was finished, you left arm-in-arm with your husband, who waited until you were out of view to shift in front of you. “How do you feel?”

Fuck. Does he know? How would he know?

“What?”

“How do you feel? It has been a fortnight, surely an early pregnancy would be somewhat present by now,” Aemond elaborated.

“Oh,” you took a sigh of relief, “I do not know, I do not feel much different.”

Aemond leaned in and placed a kiss on your forehead. “That is alright, we still have time.”

You smiled at him as he turned around and left, off to attend to his daily duties as you retreated to your chambers.

You were not in your room for even an entire minute before there was nonstop banging at your door.

You swung the door open. “Gods, could you have possibly hit the door any harder?”

Aegon didn’t respond, he just stepped into your apartment and slammed the door behind him, gripping your arms and spinning you until you were flipped, and backing you up until your back was pressed against the door.

“Aeg-“

He didn’t let you speak. He pressed his lips against yours, and your hands instinctively held either side of his face as his hands found your hips, pressing himself into you. You whined at the sudden contact, which only encouraged Aegon to continue as he peppered kisses down your jawline to your neck.

He pulled away, locking his eyes with your own. “Is this what you wanted? You wanted me?” His hand gripped your jaw, tilting your head upward. “You want me to make you feel things Aemond can’t?”

You could feel his muscles tense as he spoke your husband’s name, but Aemond wasn’t the one here with you right now.

“Yes,” you replied, “but I do not wish to think of Aemond right now.”

“No? Not your husband?”

Aegon was trying to maintain his intensity, but deep down, he was still just a boy who needed to be told he was wanted.

“I only want you, Aegon.”

Aegon let out a breath he was subconsciously holding in. He kissed you again, this time softer, grateful for your words.

“Jump,” he whispered.

“Jump?” you clarified.

“Would you trust me?”

You jumped upward and Aegon moved his arms to hold up your legs, forcing them to wrap around his waist. You squealed at the feeling, scared he would drop you, but you were secure.

He backed away from the door and walked you over to the bed, your head resting on his shoulder as he did so.

He was being nice enough to you that you assumed he would guide you down or slowly lower you, but instead, he slammed you against the bed, your legs untangling from his waist as you hit the mattress.

You opened your mouth in playful offense. “Aegon!”

He shrugged his shoulders, crawling on top of you. “Yeah?”

“What do you mean, yeah? What if that broke the bed?”

“Darling, if the bed doesn’t break, then I didn’t do my job.”

That was the second time he called you darling, and you loved hearing such an affectionate name directed at you, especially from him. You wondered if he had ever called his whores any affectionate names. Was this even as big of a deal to him as it was to you?

Aegon could see you lost in your thoughts as he loomed over you. “Something on your mind?”

“Just nervous, is all,” you responded.

“We can stop if you wish to,” he said.

You looked into his eyes, and you were surprised to see how genuine he was. You could tell he didn’t want to stop, but it was a relief knowing you could stop this any time, even though you had no desire to do so.

“I do not wish to stop.”

That was all the consent Aegon needed to kiss you again, refusing to break away from you as his hands moved to pull up your dress, exposing your small clothes to him once again.

He pulled them down your legs without even looking, and immediately ran a finger between your folds. You whined into the kiss, your hips instinctively lifting to chase the feeling.

Aegon continued to kiss you as he moved his finger lower and lower, slowly pushing it into you. You gasped, and Aegon considered breaking the kiss, but he was addicted. He wasn’t going to pull away until you made him.

The feeling was strange and unfamiliar, but that didn’t mean it was bad. You relaxed your body and trusted Aegon, allowing him to continue touching you as he moved his finger in and out. You were squirming beneath him, but he didn’t care. He was just happy to have the privilege of seeing how your body reacted to him.

After a few moments he removed his hand from you, still kissing you, and pushed his breeches down until his cock hit his stomach.

He used your wetness, that was now on his fingers, to lubricate his cock as he lined his tip up with your entrance. Only then did he pull away from the kiss.

“Are you ready?” he asked, gentle and genuine.

“Yes,” you said, knowing that verbal confirmation was better than a nod.

Aegon kept his eyes on yours as he slowly began to push into you. This feeling was not new, but it was different than what you were used to. Your body was becoming to used to Aemond, molded to Aemond, and the change confused your body for a brief few moments before settling in.

“Can I move?” Aegon checked.

“Aegon, I trust you, there is no need to ask,” you spoke, nearly a whisper, your voice weak.

You meant every word. You were appreciative that Aegon was so attentive to your comfort, but you weren’t exactly sure what was to come, and you wanted him to just get on with it already.

He dipped his head into the crook of your neck as he began to move, fighting to maintain his composure and move slowly. He set a steady pace, but after a brief few minutes, you tangled your fingers in his hair, absentmindedly playing with the strands, and it drove him crazy.

His self control slipped, and he began to move faster inside of you, snapping his hips harder and harder. You instinctively tugged on his hair, and he lifted his head up to meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, truly not meaning to pull on his hair or hurt him.

“Fuck, don’t be,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, “I swear I’m trying to go easy on you, you’re just so, so-“

Aegon lost his sentence, gazing down at where your bodies met.

“I do not need you to go easy on me,” you whined.

Aegon did not confirm that you meant it, but instead dropped his head again, resting his head next to yours as he thrust harder, hitting your hips slightly upward with each stroke.

Your back arched and your head tilted further and further backward. This was not entirely unfamiliar to you, but it felt different simply because you were excited, and you knew Aegon wouldn’t let it end until your needs were satiated.

“Aegon,” you moaned, and the sound was natural, and so pretty falling from your lips.

Aegon lifted his head up again. “Do that again.”

You whimpered another, “Aegon,” as he fucked you hard, nearly pulling out entirely with each thrust before slamming himself back into you again.

The pace was excruciating, and you were sure your hips would bruise form the force of his own hitting them each time he bottomed out.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered in your ear, only adding to your arousal as you held onto his shoulders.

Your cunt squeezed his cock, and he let out a small chuckle. “You like it when I talk to you?” he groaned.

You nodded your head up and down, incapable of speaking as you lost yourself in the pleasure. One of his hands snaked between your bodies and began to slowly run circles around your clit, forcing you to release a rather filthy moan.

“Good girl,” he cooed as your cunt squeezed him again.

The feeling of his cock in you mixed with the feeling of him touching you was too much, and the uncomfortable feeling began to rise in your stomach again.

You anxiously chased the feeling of the breakage, completely letting Aegon take control of your pleasure as the pressure dropped, your juices coating his cock as he removed his hand.

“Fuck, just like that,” he moaned, using the feeling of your orgasm to chase his own high.

He kissed you again as he came, his seed spilling inside of you. You didn’t care enough to stop him or have him climax elsewhere. Everything felt too good for you to care.

Aegon watched your bodies disconnect as he pulled himself out of you, falling onto the bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you spoke through shaky and tired breaths.

Aegon laughed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m thankful.”

“Your husband will be as well when you end up with child.”

You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment. “I did not want to stop you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Aegon said, rolling on his side to be closer to you, “idiot wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between my child and his child anyway.”

“Enough about him,” you said, turning so that you were face-to-face with Aegon, “I’m here with you.”

Aegon leaned forward and kissed you softly, smiling as he pulled away and rested his head on the pillow.

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — intro | 1 | 2

yourusername

liked by topthornton and 1,593 others

yourusername goodbye, lady liberty! 🗽

view comments

topthornton see u soon, cuz

yourusername can’t wait!

user she’s no longer a city girl 😔

user2 no more concrete jungle wet dream tomato

user3 where are you going??

user4 i think to see her cousin idk

yourusername off to live with my grandparents in obx!

your story

topthornton replied to your story:

i’ll be waiting at the airport - safe travels!

sarahcameron

liked by rafecam, heywardpope and 575,084 others

sarahcameron on my way back to my babies! #p4l

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jjmaybank we ain’t no babies

heywardpope true, you look old as hell

jjmaybank excuse me, i moisturise!

itscleo missed you 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

sarahcameron can’t wait to kiss your face

kiaracarrera what if i kiss yours? 😏

sarahupdates i love their friendship omg

johnbr am i interrupting something?!

rafecam it’s okay i didn’t want to be included anyways

user poor rafe

user2 it’s okay daddy, the kids miss you

user3 i want a friendship like these guys

sarahupdates

liked by sarahfan101, johnbr and 89,352 more

sarahupdates sarah cameron spotted at the airport, ahead of her return home to outerbanks! #sarahcameron

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sarahfan101 jarah reunion pending!!!

user obx sarah is my favourite sarah

user2 she looks so good omg

ilovesarah she always does!

sarahupdates we see you lurking johnb

user3 we love a supportive boyfriend

you spent the best part of two hours in the cramped economy section of the plane, armed with nothing but your ipad packed with downloaded disney+ shows. yet, barely resisting the urge of diving into them, you found yourself staring out the small circular window to your right, lost in thought. you couldn’t help imagine what was waiting for you at your destination, as the vast stretch of clouds and blue sky began to blur into the possibilities of your new life.

it wasn’t until the older man, located in the seat next to you, broke the silence that you were snapped out of your trance-like state. with a calm and reassuring demeanour, he struck up a conversation that quickly became the highlight of your flight.

he shared endless stories about his family back in outerbanks, and spoke of his work, which had brought him to new york in the first place. the hours melted away, before you knew it; the journey felt surprisingly short as your exchange grew more comfortable.

“well, anything you need,” he said, his expression warm as he leaned into you slightly, “you come to me, you hear? whatever it is, i got you.”

you were grateful for his unexpected kindness, causing you to smile. leaning into him, in a joking manner, you spoke, “how about you introduce me to that son of yours?”

“i’m sorry but… our pope’s off the market,” he winked, “but hey, he’s always around to be a friend.”

a friend; that’s exactly what you needed. aside from topper, you didn’t know anyone your age in outerbanks. but now, even before you’d reached the island, you already had the promise of one. it felt like a small victory, a glimmer of hope in the midst of all the unknowns awaiting you, but it meant the world to you.

“i’ll make sure he shows you around,” he continued, “gives you the full pogue tour!”

you grinned at the thought of being welcomed so warmly into this new world; your anticipation slowly outweighing your ever growing worries and fears.

a/n: a little chapter to start off with, to ensure everyone is where they should be — obx!

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Random ITSV facts that only I care about probably

Some fun ITSV facts from your local half-hispanic half-black Brooklynite Spider-man fan (me not Miles). ANYWAY

Miles has the number 11215 on his bookbag. That's his zip code.

This means officially, Miles lives in Park Slope. On the edge of Williamsburg.

The movie is spot on with the architecture.

We get a shot of Miles house in ITSV that basically confirms he lives in Park Slope. Not only is the 'real' Visions Academy near Park Slope (the actual school is called Midtown High. His school is a blend of two specialized tech schools in NYC - Midtown and Brooklyn Tech, both of which are near Park Slope).

Miles is 'Slapping'.

Writing your graffiti tag on stickers and putting them around the city is a genuine form of graffiti in NYC called slapping.

It's done on 'eggshell' stickers which are basically impossible to get off, and the goal is to put as is stickers around with your name in the hardest to reach places. If you walk around Manhattan and look closely, you can start seeing sticker tags like this.

One of the most common ones I see is Peru Ana Ana Peru

Here's some of mine though 😌😉

Wythe Avenue is a real Avenue.

I spoke about this in the past but it's just another instance of ITSV and ATSV being SO accurate to Brooklyn that they even get the street names, locations, and stores correct.

The store that Spot robs is a REAL BODEGA.

Anyway these were just things I caught after rewatching the ITSV trailer and I thought they were cool 🥺 BYE

[doberbutts]

For the past 3 weeks or so I've been getting almost daily calls from ADT, a security alarm company, stating my business in NYC is sending a distress signal. Initially I thought it was a scam because I do not have a business in NYC but the calls kept coming and at all hours of the day.

So I looked up the business and called them yesterday.

Turns out their alarm has been malfunctioning for roughly 3 weeks and they couldn't figure out why they weren't getting calls about the constant distress signal it was (incorrectly) sending. Because ADT had a single digit off and was calling me instead of them.

However that means the phone call went like this:

Me: hi can I speak to a member of management

Them: speaking, what can I do for you

Me: OK this probably sounds crazy but I've been getting calls from your security system for about 3 weeks and figured you should probably know. And also I want them to stop calling me at 3am.

Them: ...OH MY GOD THAT'S WHY THIS HAS BEEN HAPPENING

Me: yeah I thought it wasn't real at first but then it didn't stop

Them: no no I'm looking at our caller ID and the number we're supposed to have on file is a digit off of yours, I know exactly what the problem is, thank you SO much

And then I got a text from the person I assume is the manager I spoke to thanking me profusely again for helping them sort out the problem. So all's well that ends well but I was a little concerned they'd be offended or accuse me of scamming them. I haven't gotten a call from their system since I told them yesterday so here's hoping they get the random late night/early morning wake up calls instead of me from here on out.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Not now, not ever - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

summary: Having her pressed to him brought back how important she's been to keep him grounded.

warnings: Angst, Mercedes 2024, Monza 21'.

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Hello everyone, I felt like angsty was in order. Sorry to bring that accident 😶, but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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Defeated and exhausted, that was Lewis scotched in his airplane seat with you tangled in his arms, asleep beside him. The flight back to the UK after a disastrous Japanese Grand Prix held all the weight of the race, the frustration of the poor performance, and the uncertainty of his future with Mercedes weighing heavily on him.

Gently cradling you in his arms, Lewis pressed his face into your hair, breathing in your scent, finding solace in the familiarity and warmth of your presence. His fingers lightly traced the contours of your back, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest. Holding you like this; he felt a fleeting moment of peace amidst the storm of emotions and uncertainties that surrounded him. He whispered softly, barely audible above the hum of the airplane engine, " Thank you for always being there for me, even when I'm at my lowest”

He held you close, drawing comfort from your presence, knowing that whatever happened, you had been through much worse and had always stood strong together. As he looked down to your sleeping figure, the scene brought back a nagging memory on repeat, a night back in 2021, when you had comforted him after a nightmare. Now, as much as back then, you were his anchor, his safe haven amidst the chaos and uncertainty.

You were jolted awake when his entire body lurched, causing him to drop you abruptly onto the mattress. His breathing was rapid, coming out in sharp puffs as he hid his face in his hands, his shoulders tense under your arms as you held him from behind. You waited patiently, holding him until his breathing began to even out. Eventually, he turned to you, fear evident in his eyes. Without a word, you pulled him into your embrace, running your fingers through his braids and soothing the tension in his arms.

You had never seen that happen to him – that nightmarish episode that left a haunting impression. It had been two days from the crash with Verstappen in Monza. You'd traveled with him to NYC under the pretense of having an important. No one knew about the two of you yet. A few stolen moments here and there, and nights tangled in each other were all you had. He returned to his penthouse almost at dawn after the Met Gala, quietly ushering you from the bedroom you were occupying to his own bed. His friends, drunk from the after party, were oblivious to the fact that your supposed meeting was just a cover-up. The real reason you were there was that you couldn't bear to be apart from him after that crash.

Hours seemed to pass without either of you uttering a single word. The mere press of each other’s bodies was enough to ground you both. By the time Daniel knocked on the door to let him know they were headed out and assumed you hadn’t spent the night, it was well past noon. Little did he know, you had been there the whole time and would continue to be there for the rest of the day.

Lewis had witnessed similar episodes with you, most often triggered by situations related to Ayrton. Sometimes it manifested as restlessness, with you tossing and turning in bed. But on other occasions, it was far more severe. You'd wake up cold, tears streaming down your face, a scream caught in your throat, and a deafening ringing in your ears.

When these episodes occurred, Lewis knew exactly what to do. He would hold you tightly, his fingers lightly tracing your skin and scalp, while he repeated reassuring words over and over. And when you finally became aware of your surroundings, he'd listen attentively as you spoke about whatever had triggered the nightmare, comforting you until you fell back asleep in his arms.

As the sun began to set, casting a hauntingly beautiful golden hue through the penthouse windows, you went to find some food, Lewis hot on your feet, taking any opportunity to find himself wrapped in your arms. His arms securely around you, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back as you leaned into him even while you waited for the stove to warm up the takeout from the previous night. The events of the day had left both of you emotionally drained, the scars of the past resurfacing with a vengeance.

The weight of the nightmare and fear of the unknown had taken its toll on both of you. The emotional strain was palpable, the shadows of past traumas lingering in the corners of your minds, waiting to strike when least expected. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine concern. "I'm always here for you, no matter what."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude, love, and pain. "And I'm here for you" his voice softly reassuring you “Always."

Lewis smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He pulled you closer to him, cherishing the moment of fragile peace and understanding between you. The bond you shared was unique, built on trust, understanding, and unconditional love. Despite the challenges and nightmares that sometimes haunted your nights, the love and support you provided each other were unwavering.

As night fell, Lewis led you back to the bedroom, ensuring you were comfortable and safe before joining you in bed. He held you close, his presence a constant source of comfort and reassurance. You drifted off to sleep, protected and loved in the arms that secured you so tightly.

Lewis remained awake; his gaze fixed on your peaceful sleeping face. The haunting memories of the accident with Verstappen in Monza played in his mind, and a shiver ran down his spine as he thought about how close it had come to being his end.

His thoughts were consumed by the accident, the fear of losing you, and the nightmares that had been haunting both of you. The emotional strain was palpable, and tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch you sleep, his mind tormented by the events of the past and the shadows of the traumas you both had endured.

The room was silent except for the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing. Lewis leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, his heart aching with love and fear. He whispered words of love and reassurance, hoping that somehow, you could feel his presence and know that he would always be there for you.

He tightened his grip around you, pulling you closer as if trying to protect you from the world and the nightmares. His mind was filled with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future pressing down on him.

"We almost lost it all," he whispered to himself, his voice choked with emotion. "Gosh, I can't lose you, not now, not ever."

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[heartsforluigimangione]

Lust and promises

POV: Luigi seeks you out after the 'incident' to hide him away from the world in your apartment in NYC. warnings: smut (with plot), angst??

2340 Words

All thirst aside i really hope he’s okay and nothing bad happens to him, Luigi deserves better💟

The city outside your window was still cloaked in the muted gray of dawn, the faint hum of its waking life barely audible through the glass. Inside your apartment, the air felt heavy charged with the kind of tension that made your skin prickle. Luigi Mangione lay beside you, his broad chest rising and falling in a rhythm that betrayed his exhaustion. His dark hair was tousled, his jaw shadowed with stubble, and even in sleep, there was something dangerous about him. Something magnetic. 

Now, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, you watched him stir. His eyes fluttered open, dark and stormy, before locking onto yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was thick, laden with unspoken words and promises neither of you could keep.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice rough from sleep. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Morning," you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

His hand lingered, tracing small circles on your skin. "You didn't have to do this, you know. Letting me stay here... it's risky."

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but your heart was racing. "What else was I supposed to do? Leave you out there?"

He chuckled softly, the sound low and gravelly. "You're too good for me." His touch grew firmer, more deliberate. "But I'm not complaining."

Your breath hitched as his fingers trailed up your arm, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. "Luigi..." you started, but he cut you off.

"Don't," he said, his voice firm yet gentle. "Don't say anything. Just let me... just let me be here with you."

There was something raw in his voice, something vulnerable that he rarely let show. It tugged at you, pulling you closer until your bodies were almost touching.

"I'll keep you safe," he promised, his eyes burning with intensity. "No matter what happens, I won't let anyone hurt you."

"And I'll protect you," you replied without hesitation. "You can stay here as long as you need. No one will find you."

A slow smile spread across his face, and for a moment, he looked almost boyish. Almost innocent. But then his gaze dropped to your lips, and the air between you shifted. The electricity that had been simmering beneath the surface suddenly crackled to life, impossible to ignore.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "I can't help myself."

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, hungry and demanding. You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss. It was desperate, urgent, like he needed to remind himself that he was still alive. That you were still here.

His tongue slid against yours, hot and slick, and a moan escaped your throat. He swallowed it greedily, his hands roaming over your body as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

"Wait," he said, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside. "Better?"

"Much," you breathed, your eyes drinking in the sight of him. His chest was muscular, littered with scars that told stories you'd never hear. Stories of violence and survival. Stories of a man who lived by his own rules.

He reached for the hem of your shirt, hesitating for a fraction of a second before pulling it off. His eyes darkened as they roamed over your bare skin, and you felt a flush of heat creep up your neck.

"You're fucking beautiful," he growled, his hands sliding up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "You know that?"

You shook your head, feeling self-conscious, but he didn't give you a chance to protest. His lips crashed into yours again, silencing any doubts. His kisses were relentless, each one deeper, harder, more insistent than the last. It was like he was trying to erase everything else—the danger, the guilt, the fear—and replace it with nothing but you.

Luigi's hands tightened around your wrists as he pinned you gently but firmly to the mattress, his breath hot against your skin. His lips trailed from your mouth down to your jawline, nipping and sucking lightly, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You gasped, arching into him as his tongue flicked over the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"God, I've wanted this," he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. "So fucking long—I couldn't stop thinking about you."

His words were like fuel to the fire burning inside you, and you writhed beneath him, desperate for more. Luigi didn't disappoint. His mouth moved lower, kissing and licking a path down your neck to your collarbone. Each touch was deliberate, calculated, as if he were mapping every inch of you, committing it to memory.

When his lips closed over one taut nipple, you cried out, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "You like that?" he teased, swirling his tongue around the peak before pulling it into his mouth again.

You could only nod, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention, while his free hand drifted lower, skimming over your stomach. The anticipation was maddening, and you squirmed, trying to guide his hand where you needed it most.

But Luigi was in no hurry. He was savoring every moment, every touch, every sound you made. His fingers traced lazy circles on your hip before finally dipping between your thighs. You moaned, spreading your legs wider, inviting him in.

"So wet for me already," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

He slid a finger inside you, curling it just right, and you bucked against his hand, a cry escaping your lips. He added a second finger, lazily pumping them in and out while his thumb circled your clit. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge.

"Not yet," Luigi whispered, pulling his hand away despite your whimper of protest. "I want to taste you first."

Before you could respond, he shifted down the bed, settling between your legs. His breath ghosted over your slick folds, and you shuddered, anticipation coiling tight in your belly. Then his tongue was on you, long, slow strokes that had you gripping the sheets for dear life.

"Oh God," you moaned, your hips lifting off the mattress as he lapped at your sensitive flesh. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating through you, and you nearly came apart right then and there.

But Luigi wasn't done. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, holding you open as he buried his face in your pussy. His tongue flicked over your clit, alternating between rapid, teasing flicks and firm, steady pressure. It was too much and not enough all at once, and you could feel yourself unraveling.

"Luigi, please," you begged, your voice breaking. "I need—"

He knew exactly what you needed. Slipping two fingers back inside you, he curled them just so, hitting that sweet spot while his tongue worked magic on your clit. The combination was devastating, and you came hard, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He didn't let up, drawing out your orgasm until you were trembling, oversensitive and spent. Only then did he pull back, sitting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you catch your breath.

"You're incredible," he said, crawling back up your body to kiss you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, the thought making you blush even as it turned you on all over again.

"Your turn," you whispered against his mouth, reaching for the waistband of his pants. He hesitated for a split second before letting go, allowing you to push his sweatpants down his hips. His cock sprang free, thick and hard.

Luigi groaned when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him slowly. "Fuck, baby," he breathed, his hips jerking into your touch. "You're going to kill me."

You smirked, enjoying the way you could make this strong, dangerous man fall apart with just your hand. But you wanted more. Swinging your leg over his lap, you straddled him, aligning his tip with your entrance. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his eyes locked on yours as you slowly sank down onto him.

The stretch was exquisite, and you both groaned in unison as he filled you completely. Once seated, you paused for a moment, adjusting to the sensation. Luigi's head fell back, his jaw clenched as he fought for control.

"You feel so good," he ground out, his hands flexing on your hips. "Faster, baby. Please."

You obliged, rocking your hips in a slow, torturous rhythm. The drag of him inside you was pure bliss, and you could feel your body tightening around him already. Luigi thrust up to meet you, his pace growing faster, more urgent.

"Harder," you pleaded, nails digging into his shoulders. He complied without hesitation, slamming into you with such force that you saw stars. Every thrust hit that perfect spot, and you could feel another orgasm building, stronger than the last.

"Look at me," he demanded, and you obeyed, locking eyes with him as he fucked you relentlessly. The intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through you, and you knew neither of you would last much longer.

"Luigi, I'm—" Your words were cut off by a strangled moan as your body spasmed around his, pleasure crashing over you in waves. He followed close behind, burying himself deep inside you as he found his own release, growling your name like a prayer.

For a moment, you just stayed like that, clinging to each other as you caught your breath. Then Luigi collapsed back onto the bed, pulling you with him. You lay sprawled across his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"You're mine now," he said softly, running a hand through your hair. "And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

You smiled, tracing idle patterns on his chest. "And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you hidden."

Luigi's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm beneath you, his skin still warm from the intensity of what had just unfolded. The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the tangle of sheets around you both. His fingers lazily traced circles on your back, sending gentle shivers down your spine. You nestled closer, your cheek pressed against the curve of his shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and something uniquely him—something that felt like safety and danger all at once.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly from sleep and desire, "I didn't think I'd ever find someone who'd make me feel like this." His hand paused for a moment before moving to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Someone who'd make me want to stay."

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes locking with his. There was a vulnerability there that you hadn't seen before, a crack in the armor he usually wore so effortlessly. It made your chest ache in the best way. "I didn't think I'd find someone who'd make me feel like it was worth risking everything," you admitted softly, your fingertips grazing the edge of his jaw.

He smiled, but it wasn't his usual smirk—it was softer, almost shy. "Guess we're both full of surprises, huh?" His thumb brushed against your lower lip, and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched. The air between you shifted, growing heavier, more charged.

"Luigi..." you started, but the words caught in your throat as his gaze dropped to your mouth.

"Yeah?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. His fingers trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, until they rested lightly on your collarbone.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I don't... I don't want to lose this. Lose you."

His expression softened, and he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "You won't, baby" he promised, his breath warm against your skin. "Not as long as I'm breathing."

Both of you remained wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the sound of one another breathing as you lay in the tangled sheets. After a while, you stood up to get your morning started. He caught your hand as you pulled away, his fingers warm against your skin.

"Stay with me," he murmured, his voice low and pleading. "Just for a little while."

You hesitated, but there was no resisting the look in his eyes. You sank back down onto your bed, curling up beside him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you rested your head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a reassuring rhythm that lulled you into a sense of calm despite the chaos swirling around you.

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was equal parts tender and desperate. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of regret, of all the time you'd lost. And in that moment, nothing else mattered—not the danger, not the past, not the uncertainty of the future. There was only him, and you, and the way he made you feel.

[kookyburrowing]

Different Languages AU Part 1: Wait, Fuck, They Don't Speak Basic?

First things first motherfuckers, let’s get one thing straight: Basic as a language does exist in this AU!  It’s just less common outside of the Core/Mid Rim.  SO.  What does that give us?  Well, it gives us way more interesting conflict, for one thing, and for another, so many languages.  Let’s get crackalackin! 

In the Outer Rim, Huttese is largely The Language To Speak.  If you don’t speak Huttese, you might as well just hurl yourself into the nearest bottomless pit now and save yourself the time and trouble.  Even in the Core and Mid Rim, Huttese is a very common language just because of how useful it is if you ever find yourself in the Outer Rim.  Most bounty hunters (i.e. Jango Fett, just for one completely random example) speak Huttese fluently, alongside their native languages.  Naturally, then, this is a language Anakin is very familiar with.  In fact, when he became a Jedi, it was the language he knew the best, and most people thought his speech was stilted in Basic because of this.  He spoke Basic maybe once every month on Tatooine—can you blame him?  

In the Mid Rim, each planet has their own language and conversations between diplomats are typically done as they are on Earth—via interpreters, to avoid any misunderstandings.  Padmé, for instance, does speak Basic, but that is the language she would use in the Senate, not on Naboo.  The same goes for Palpatine, but we’ll get to him in a minute, because he sucks and I want to not talk about him for as long as I feasibly can.  

The Core means Basic, Basic, Basic, because of just the sheer number of people making it necessary.  Coruscant is a weird case because of how communities develop there.  Since it’s kind of like a gigantic version of a modern city (I’ll use NYC as an example because I know it the best), it’s broken up into enclaves.  Cultures clump—it’s a thing.  Some neighborhoods in NYC are predominantly Jewish, some are predominantly Italian, the list goes on.  The same goes for Coruscant, although on a supersized scale.  There’s some areas where non-Mandalorians need not apply, some where everyone is a Twi’lek or Togruta, some where everyone is a Mirialan, et cetera.  Also, Coruscant dialects of certain languages are very much a thing.

Anyway.  Let’s talk Kamino, because that’s why I started this to begin with!  

Jango Fett is a Mandalorian.  He’s also a bounty hunter.  He’s from Concord Dawn and was a True Mandalorian.  Therefore we can guess he probably at the bare minimum speaks two dialects of Mando’a (Concord Dawn, True Mandalorian) Huttese, and has at least passing Basic.  He probably speaks more than that given how well-traveled he is, but those are the ones I can name for sure.  So Jango Fett, who speaks Mando’a and Huttese and Basic, encounters Count Dooku.  Count Dooku is from Serenno, but he was also a Jedi, so he probably speaks Serennese, Basic, Huttese, and a few more.  He may even speak Mando’a, but his dialects wouldn’t be likely to overlap with Jango’s.  Count Dooku tells Jango to go to Kamino and let them clone him in exchange for an exorbitant amount of money.  Jango does, because Jango is a thinking human being and thinking human beings under capitalism do not turn down exorbitant amounts of money in exchange for what amounts to (at most) being a three or four-time sperm donor.  

And on Kamino, our intrepid Mandalorian encounters something a bit weird.  The Kaminoans, being that they are an extremely isolated species and thus have absolutely no reason to have developed humanoid vocal chords, have to rely on droid translators.  Cool!  This means Jango can speak to them exclusively in his native language (Concord Dawn Mando’a), and they can speka to him exclusively in theirs, and everyone’s largely happy.  Jango negotiates the finer points of the contract, acquires an infant who he names Boba, and calls up some old friends (and acquaintances) to teach the clones to kick ass.  He informs them they don’t have to worry about speaking Basic, so they don’t bother speaking Basic.  

Thus, we have our setup.  The Kaminoans have no reason to make the clones speak Basic because literally none of these outsiders are bothering to inform that oh yeah there’s this whole common language thing going on, and said outsiders have no reason whatsoever to tell them because it would ultimately just be an inconvenience.  They’ve got a good thing going, and Jedi are required to speak more than one language anyway.  The clones can definitely find at least one in common!

So the clones learn to speak Mando’a, understand Kaminoan, and speak and/or understand one extra elective language.  Most pick something weird because they can—everyone around them speaks either Mando’a or Kaminoan so why would they bother with languages they don’t care about, like Basic?  Unfortunately for the Kaminoans and the trainers in equal measure, they do also realize that in order to express themselves in private they need their own universal language, so they acquire one.  They just call it clonespeak to keep things simple, and for most of them, that’s their native language.  They feel most comfortable speaking in it because that’s the language they associate with safety and with their siblings/parents.  

Thus: the predicament.  

Obi-Wan arrives on Kamino.  Obi-Wan is a Jedi.  Obi-Wan speaks Basic. 

Uh-oh.  See, Jango is out of practice—the Kaminoans can’t make those noises.  Boba’s language skills begin and end with Mando’a and some random bits of clonespeak right now—he’s kind of conversational with Huttese but every once in a while he just throws in a Mando’a word or an idiom in clonespeak and Jango has to take a minute to breathe lest he slam his head straight through the wall in frustration because he doesn’t understand clonespeak.  And so much performing of charades, many awkward moments, and exactly one sentence in Basic later, Obi-Wan is heading back to Coruscant with several questions. 

First: why the fuck did Sifo-Dyas order an army who didn’t speak Basic?  No one knows.  No one can find any records of this order, for one thing.  No one knows who Tyrannus is, for another.  

And second: what languages do the clones speak?  Obviously, Mando’a is amongst them, but Jango’s extremely intensely staring son also spoke another, infinitely weird language and no one can find any record of it, and not even Jango seemed to understand him.  Do they understand the Kaminoans’ clicking noises?  Are they just mute?  Is it constantly Shut The Fuck Up Friday up in there?  What is going on?  

The Council loses their collective minds.  Shaak Ti is about ready to haul ass across the galaxy to collect these poor, lost young men—Plo Koon is right there with her.  Yoda is—well, Yoda is swearing loudly in several dead languages right now.  Mace Windu, ever the voice of reason, just has one thing to say: how about they meet the clones, first.  Before they panic.

In the face of this intense, all-consuming, glorious sensibility, the Council collectively shuts the fuck up.  They decide to let things run their course.  

And then Geonosis.  Quickly, Yoda collects several hundred clones, manages to communicate to one of them—who speaks a really weird, ancient, and fucked up dialect of Basic that could basically scan to Elizabethan English, and whose name is probably Kowalski—what he needs, and that one tells an older, larger and more intimidating one.  Then that one yells a lot in a language Yoda has never heard before, and several hundred clones are suddenly hauling ass into gunships.  

Enter one Anakin Skywalker and one Padmé Amidala, who are about to acquire some friends, none of whom understand a word they’re saying.  They fuck some things up, get strapped to some poles to be devoured by Space Beasts of some sort, and then escape.  

Battle of Geonosis happens.  Mace Windu quickly discovers that the answer to the question what do the clones speak is effectively every language except Basic, and the answer is also supremely inconsistent.  He is Suffering.  He is Experiencing The Horrors.  Obi-Wan is likewise fighting for his life because he speaks a fancy-ass dialect of Mando’a that the clones don’t understand.  This is because they, like normal people, don’t talk like dignitaries on diplomatic missions.  

Moving on!  Obi-Wan gets assigned Alpha-17.  Alpha-17 is a demon.  Actually.  He probably speaks Basic but refuses to out of spite.  This is the biggest asshole to ever stomp his way into a Venator and terrify Anakin Skywalker into cowering submission.  (He may even be why Anakin behaved like that as Vader.  We will never know!)  Like most clones, Alpha-17 speaks four languages.  Clonespeak, Mando’a, Kaminoan, and Huttese.  In that order.  So he has no real trouble communicating with either Anakin or Obi-Wan.  

What he does have, though, is a surplus of kids.  Like it or not (he insists he doesn’t) they are his kids, and he wants them to have a shot at having a moderately tolerable existence.  Enter everyone’s favorite group of six weirdos: Wolffe, Ponds, Fox, Bly, Cody, and Rex.  

Wolffe is easy.  He’s horrible with languages, and so gets sent to Plo Koon, who speaks through a translator anyway.  Add Mando’a to the translator, and bang!  Easy.  Done.  They understand each other perfectly.  

Ponds is also easy.  He, being sensible, learned Basic, so he goes to Mace Windu, who is equally sensible (and grateful for the easy transition).  

Fox, who is a scheming little shit and also just so happens to speak Naboo, get sent to Coruscant.  The Chancellor can’t get one over on him if Fox can understand every word he says, and most Senators have protocol droids with them for translation anyway.  

Bly speaks Ryll, so she gets Aayla Secura.  Again, easy.  

Cody, on the other hand?  Cody speaks the same languages as 17.  Cody has a favorite younger brother who needs guidance.  Cody, therefore, gets deposited with Obi-Wan, and Rex?  Rex gets Anakin.  

But the issue with Rex is he and Anakin have no language in common.  Rex’s elective language was Togruti, and like the rest of his batch he also speaks Tusken sign.  Because his batch are a bunch of assholes who wanted an extremely private way to talk.  

So.  Anakin and Rex start off the war with no way to communicate!  None!  Literally not one language in common!  

And they do try to communicate—via charades, via text, et cetera—but they don’t really have access to translation software on a regular basis and thus things become complicated.  

Things are made even more complicated by the fact that Rex, like Wolffe, is shit at language learning.  Anakin, who isn’t, could try to learn clonespeak, and does!  But when you can’t communicate with the person teaching you it is immensely slow going.  

And thus, our premise is complete.  How do you run a war with someone you can’t talk to?  

Well, it depends.  If you’re Anakin, you say, maybe I can figure a way around this.  

If you’re Pong Krell?  

I dunno man.  Yell?  Yeah, that sounds about right. 

[kjupchurch-xx]

Conflicting Feelings Part Six

As the morning sunset swept through my hotel room's balcony view, I felt Hugh begin stirring in his sleep, "G'day, gorgeous." He said sleepily as I felt him start stretching. 

I smiled, "Good morning, sexy." I purred, leaning up to peck his lips before moving out of the bed towards the bathroom to turn on the shower. 

Today was going to be bittersweet. I was going back home today, my stay in LA had come to an end. It was time for me to head back to the East Coast, to the beautiful, busy town of New York City. Hugh was in LA for the filming of the new Deadpool & Wolverine movie, so I'd be going back to NYC solo. Truth be told, I missed my condo in New York, but I knew I'd miss my favorite Aussie even more. 

Now that things are beginning to happen, the thought of leaving breaks my heart. I didn't realize I was reacting to my thoughts until his voice interrupted the thoughts racing through my brain. I felt two arms snake around me, "What's wrong, my love?" He asked softly. 

I sniffled, quickly wiping a fallen tear from my cheek, "I'm leaving today to go back home." I said as my voice trembled. 

He frowned, "Today?" He asked, making sure he heard me correctly. I nodded, staying silent, trying to control my flooding emotions. "Do you have to go back home today?" He asked. 

I sighed, "I paid for a round trip, so my flight's already booked. I can't get a refund and I can't afford to lose the money." 

He kissed my forehead, "I'll take care of it." He said simply. 

I looked at him, shaking my head. "I can't let you do that." 

He smiled, "I want to and I can." pecking my lips again. 

I rolled my eyes, "I don't want you doing that. I paid for first class and that's not cheap." 

He chuckled, "You do realize I make millions, right love? I'm making $20 million from Deadpool. I can assure you a first class plane ticket will not break me."

I shrugged, "And I'm staying where?" 

He looked at his phone, "With Noldsy and Blake, and of course me. You have to babysit their kids from time to time, but it's not that bad." He chuckled.  

I looked at him, "You seriously want me to cancel my flight?" I asked, grabbing my phone. 

He pouted, "I would be heartbroken if you didn't." 

I smiled, "And Ryan and Blake are okay with this?" I questioned. 

He rolled his eyes, "C'mon, you know Ryan and Blake love you." 

I sighed, "Okay, if you insist..." I logged onto my app and canceled my flight, luckily receiving a 50% refund for a last minute cancellation from the flight insurance I'd purchased when I first paid for the ticket. "It's cancelled." I said, throwing my phone down, pulling him into the shower with me. 

As we washed off he spoke, "We'll drop your rental car off when we head out. We can take mine back to Ryan and Blake's." 

I nodded, "Okay, but I need to make a stop and get some more clothes. I packed for five days and I'm not wearing the same outfits for another week." 

He kissed my forehead, while rinsing my hair out, "We can do that." 

After our shower and packing up the hotel room, we parted ways to drop off my rental car, Hugh following close behind me in his. 

Hugh's POV:  

As I followed close behind her, I was overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the course of knowing her. We'd met each other in 2020 when she starred as an extra on a show I was working on. I had very little interaction with her on the show, but backstage was a different story. She approached me and told me how she was starstruck to work with Wolverine, which made me laugh. 

She was only 22 years old when I met her, I was 51, turning 52. She was an attractive young woman. She was funny, she was intelligent and she was humble. I thought nothing about her until we'd cut up on set and spent hours talking. She had a boyfriend and I had a wife at home, not to mention I like older women. We'd remained friends until she came to my rescue when my father died. That's when things went wild for me. Several things took place that her pride will not allow her to talk about, but I couldn't stop thinking about them. 

When I arrived back to NYC and to Deb, I separated myself from her. COVID made it easier. I kept trying to block the feelings out because I knew they were wrong. I forced myself to focus on Deb, and Deb only, but that only made us grow further apart in our marriage. 

While in England, not only did I walk in on her changing and saw her breasts, there was one night she had too much to drink and confessed many things to me that she has no memory of. She talked about her difficult upbringing, she talked about her failed relationships, but she doesn't have any recollection of admitting to me that she loved me and dreamed that one day I'd be hers. Or how if my marriage ever ends, she was claiming me for herself. That night, I'd had a few drinks myself and we shared a kiss. 

I thought about how after I walked in on her, she'd became what I'd imagine when I'd wank off. I'd imagine how perfect her breasts were, how I wanted to run my hands down every curve on her body as I fucked her, and how her pussy would taste, or how tight it would be around my fingers. I thought about how much I'd want to pleasure her and make her orgasm so much that she couldn't function anymore. Just the thought of her made my dick throb.

But, it was more than just sex with her. She was genuinely my favorite human being, besides my children and of course, Ryan Reynolds. She was there for me during one of the hardest times of my life. She keeps me grounded and focused on the bigger picture, even if I struggle to see it. I'd spent 20 years thinking I was with the love of my life, until I realized I didn't know the meaning of it when she came to England that night. 

Main Reader's POV: 

As we arrived at the drop-off for the rental car, I quickly returned the keys, heading back outside only to be bombarded by photographers. They photographed Hugh, me, us in the car together, etc as they asked if we were an item. 

"They're fucking relentless, jesus christ." I mumbled. 

He chuckled, "You act like you haven't had the press bother you." 

I giggled, "Not to that extent. That was different."

He reached over grabbing my hand, interlocking it with his, bringing it to his lips, placing a small kiss on my knuckles, "Did you want to get clothes now?" 

I blushed, shaking my head, "Let's get to Ryan's first. Let them calm down and then we'll go." I said regarding the photographers. 

He chuckled, "Okay, we can do that." 

The drive to Ryan's wasn't long. It was full of Hugh singing along to songs on the radio. He had a beautiful voice and hearing it on screen was nothing compared to hearing it in person. About 5 minutes later, we arrived at Ryan's place. Ryan and Blake weren't home. Ryan was filming scenes and Blake was promoting her new movie. The kids were with a nanny since Nanny Hugh had been MIA all weekend. 

As we walked in and made it to the bedroom Hugh was staying in, he ran his fingers through his beard, "I've gotta shave this." He said to himself. 

I smirked, "Can I help?" 

He giggled, "Can you do the Wolverine shave? It has to be perfect for the film." 

I shrugged, "It can't be too hard to shave mutton chops."

"Shawn will kill me if you fuck this up." He laughed, handing me a set of clippers. 

I giggled, grabbing them. "I won't fuck this up. Do you know how in love with Logan I was as a child?" 

He playfully rolled his eyes, "Don't say it like that. It makes me feel old and it's making me feel weird. You know I was 32 or 33 when I filmed that."

I shrugged, "I was 4 when it was released." 

He cringed, "God, stop. Let's talk about something else." 

I chuckled as I began shaving the infamous mutton chops, "I love making you uncomfortable." I said playfully. 

He looked up at me, "I'm not giving you a reaction while you're shaving my face, but I've noticed." 

As I finished up showing him my kick ass skills as a barber, we heard a voice downstairs, "Oh, Hugh! Where you at big fella?! It's your favorite Canadian. A little birdie called the media just told me you're with a hot little number. Is she here?" 

We quickly jumped at the sound of his voice, looking at one another, making a run for the door to meet him downstairs.  Ryan looked at us, still wearing the Deadpool suit, "Ah, there she is. Hot little number, this is my humble abode" He chuckled as he swayed his arms around showing me his living room. 

"Why are you in your suit, mate? They actually let you bring Deadpool's suit home?" Hugh asked, smirking, knowing Ryan was instructed to not leave set with the suit. 

Ryan smirked, "Sir, I will have you know, I stole this suit." 

I joked, "Levy is going to beat you."

Ryan laughed, "He can try, but no one can beat me in this suit, darling." 

I rolled my eyes, "Mutton Chops! Look at you." He exclaimed at Hugh, noticing the freshly shaved face. 

Hugh laughed as Ryan's face got serious, "Seriously though, I have a question for you." He said, pointing towards me. 

"And that is?" I asked, furrowing my brows. 

Ryan looked at Hugh and I, "We're rounding up people to play the Deadpool variants. Blake is Lady Deadpool, but there's another female one. Do you want to do it?" He asked. 

I gasped, "Are you serious?" my eyes widened. 

He smirked, "As a heart attack, sister. Plus, I figured it would give Hughy here more time to spend with you."  

[bippiti]

catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader

after the release of your new album, life has been hectic as you've been running around doing shows. only problem is you seem to have only one person on your mind. little do you know he's having the same issue

an part two! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!

if you want a visual guide for the band .

part one next part

tags @bloodyymaryyy @guiseppetsunoda @maxverstappendefender @charizznorizz

yourig

liked by king, charles_leclerc and 42,836,364 others

yourig thanks for coming out london! nyc see you soon x

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user ughh i wish i couldve come :((

yourig next time lovee💜

user sounded so good

user anyone else gonna talk about the album afterparty???

user who cares bro😭 theyre adults and tbh they would be a power couple

user right?! ive been thinking the same thing, shes not a good influence on him

user im sorry do yk y/n??? how would u know that lmfao

king looking good!

liked by yourig

user where is the fit from???

user i think vivienne westwood!

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-

you sighed, scrolling through your comments. it had been almost a month after your albums release, and some people still were bringing up the hug with charles. i mean, seriously it was just a hug. it wasn't like you guys had made out or anything.

both your label and ferrari were sponsored by celsius, and your management had met with one of ferraris pr heads. they had agreed to work together to promote the new album, and had picked charles because he was a fan of your music.

you clicked instantly on the first day of set, but it also helped that you spoke fluent french (you had an obsession with indila when you were younger and forced yourself to learn it) the lack of a language barrier, coupled with the fact that you guys had similar interests made it inevitable that you both would become friends.

after the album launch party, you were exhausted. you had woken up at 4am for promo shoots, and had been running around all day before singing your whole album (which was around an hour long) to the attendees. it was fun, and you wouldnt trade your career for the whole world, but man you were tired.

as you were heading out, you spotted charles and you both stopped to talk

"tu as bien fait là-dedans" he said, smiling as he pushed his hands into his pockets (you did good in there)

"merci! les heures de pratique m’ont aidé. je pense que je pourrais oublier les paroles si j’essayais" you smile as he laughed (thanks! the hours of practice helped. i dont think i could forget the lyrics if i tried)

"en pratiquant son art on devient artisan" (practice makes perfect)

you nod, turning as you hear your bandmate siobahn call for you

you look back to him, saying your goodbyes and quickly hugging him before running after her.

that was it. just a friendly hug. it's not like he liked you, and if he knew you liked him, you doubt he would still be friends with you.

-

charles_leclerc

liked by yourig, pierregasly and 305,387 others

charles_leclerc i won. maybe next time @/pierregasly 😘

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user just realized pierre had a chance to fork the king and the rook in

user not y/n liking this...

user so cute😍

pierregasly i almost had it

charles_leclerc of course you did

user my fav french men

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-

after having checkmate charles sat back, smiling smugly as he looked at pierre try and fail to make a move. giving up, he raised his hands in defeat.

"quand vais-je jamais te battre?" he said sighing as he chuckled (when will i ever beat you)

"peut-être dans une autre vie" (maybe in another life)

scoffing, pierre changed the subject.

"so i heard you're with some rockstar these days"

"i most definitley am not"

"sure, sure. you might not be dating her but i can tell you like her"

charles paused, having a mini crisis. ok. so maybe he did like you. he couldn't help it, honestly. throughout filming ,and even after he had grown to really admire you. not only just as an artist, but as a person as well. he honestly hoped you'd be able to meet up afterwards, but he hasnt been able to see you since. between his preseason training and your concerts, you both are rarely free, let alone in the same country.

he told all of this to pierre, who listened quietly, nodding along before telling him his masterplan. he was gonna help him out, what kindve friend would he be if he didnt?

-

hearing the notification sound go off on your phone, you picked it up. your eyebrows raised as you read it

part 3??