#can u tell the Misery that was put into it

[set-phasers-to-whump]

nowhere else but here

prompt: thermometer

whumpee: illya kuryakin

fandom: the man from uncle

heya here's one i managed to write ahead of time :) it's pre-ship illya/napoleon and that's about all you need to know. hope you enjoy!

Illya looks like death. He’s standing on Napoleon’s doorstep - standing might be a generous term, actually, more like he’s leaning against the doorframe and it’s clearly the only thing keeping him on his feet - and his face is white as a sheet, except for his cheeks, which are bright with fever. His hair is slick with sweat and it’s dripping down his face, his eyes are barely open, and despite everything, he apologizes as Napoleon all but drags him through the door. 

“Don’t apologize,” Napoleon says, instinctively, hands on Illya, feeling heat radiating from his body even through his jacket. “It’s alright.”

He half-drags Illya towards the couch, very nearly holding his hands, staying just shy of the limit. Illya’s wrists and palms are damp and clammy and all Napoleon can think about is how long it must have taken for things to get this bad, how long Illya must have suffered on his own. 

He doesn’t know whether to be glad or worried that Illya had eventually chosen to come to him. 

He deposits Illya as gently as he can onto the couch and heads for the bathroom. There, he retrieves his first-aid kit, so extensively stocked that his apartment might as well be a small hospital, along with a glass of water and a washcloth, which he dampens in the sink. 

When he returns to the living room, Illya has curled in upon himself, shivering. He looks so small, so miserable, so alone, and all Napoleon wants to do is touch him, run fingers through his sweaty hair and trace patterns onto his back and press the back of a hand to his surely burning cheek. 

He doesn’t. He can’t. 

“Hey,” he says, lightly jostling Illya’s shoulder. “You in there, Peril?”

Illya very slowly uncurls himself with a sniff. He looks at Napoleon and his eyes are unreadable, bright with fever and glassy with tears and Napoleon wills himself to be unaffected, even as he feels something within him threaten to break at how damned vulnerable Illya looks, how utterly unguarded. 

He can’t stop his training from seeping into his mind. How easy it would be to tear down Illya’s defenses, to use his trust against him. He hates himself for it. Ignores the thoughts, Sanders’ voice echoing through his head. 

He crouches in front of his partner - I’m not a threat, I would never do that to him - and opens his kit. 

His first item is a thermometer. He slips its metal tip into a cover, holds it up. 

Illya doesn’t do anything. 

“Do I really need to spell this out for you?” He tries to keep his tone light, tries not to bely the worry churning beneath his skin. 

They get there eventually. Napoleon barely stops himself from placing a hand on Illya’s cheek as the mercury in the tube rises and rises. 

“103,” Napoleon says. “Jesus.”

Illya looks as if he is about to cry.  

Everything in Napoleon is screaming at him to just pull Illya to him and hold on, to whisper soft reassurances against the side of his head. 

“We need to get that number down,” is what he says, in lieu of acting on his impulses. “No need for a hospital for now, but…”

Illya’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. 

“I know. Here.”

He hands Illya a few fever reducing pills, presses the glass of water into his shaky hands. 

He expects resistance. But Illya takes the pills willingly, a pained look flashing across his face as he swallows. 

“Those should help,” Napoleon says. “Now lie back.”

Illya again does as he’s told. His legs remain slightly curled - they haven’t yet made a couch on which he can comfortably stretch out, though he doesn’t seem to mind at this particular moment. 

Once Illya is no longer moving, Napoleon carefully drapes the cool, damp washcloth across his forehead. Illya recoils from it at first, then relaxes. His eyes flutter closed. 

Napoleon wants to kiss him. Even if it’d mean later falling ill with…whatever it is Illya’s got. He just wants to give Illya something physical, a tangible thing that says, I’m here and I care about you and I’m not going anywhere and you never have to apologize for coming to me and about a thousand other things that he’s never been brave enough to actually speak aloud. 

He allows himself to give Illya’s hand a brief squeeze, and intends for that to be that. 

But Illya’s fingers curl around Napoleon’s own, weakly yet definitely, and when Napoleon chances a look at his face there’s a tear running down his cheek. His eyes are still closed. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “You’re going to be alright.”

Illya takes a shuddering breath and screws up his face like he’s trying to stop himself from actually crying, and Napoleon just…loses the battle. 

He raises their still-joined hands and presses a kiss to the back of Illya’s hand, light and quick. He waits. 

Nothing happens. Illya does not pull away. 

He takes a step further into the unknown. A hand against Illya’s cheek, horribly hot to the touch. 

He swears Illya leans into it. 

One step further. The last one he’s going to take, here and now. A kiss to the cheek. “It’s okay,” whispered against burning skin. 

He feels Illya relax. Hears him take a deep breath. Feels Illya squeeze his hand, knows, somehow, what he means. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I never want to go anywhere else. 

thanks for reading!!! hope you liked it <3

[transmasccofee]

thinking yet again about Saiki‘s’s final choice in the series being “I’d rather live with my powers than die without them” bc that is seriously the single best ending of a disability narrative I’ve seen. Fuck.

[red-dyed-sarumane]

in my break i watched the cubase interviews with hiiragi magnetite & first of all the amount of effort they put into marshall maximizer to get it from the demo ver to the finished ver is all the proof i need that every sound design choice in their songs is intentional & part of the story telling (also. at 5:09. please listen to the maximizer demo when they say they remixed it to suit kafu better they werent kidding its like a whole other song)

now im saying this with the utmost respect for their skills but everything else about them is like. wow. truly anyone can be a vocaP. for those of u who havent seen their work space before. behold.

they keep using this notebook bc they "have everything on it and it would be inconvenient to move everything to a new one."

if that wasnt bad enough they always say they use like 140-200 tracks in any given song, in maximizer i they said it was like 145. they dont color code anything bc they think its inconvenient so everything in maximizer is gray. they also rarely use folders so theres like two whole folders they dont even remember making. they also rarely retitle things even if they "have no clue what any if it means" so for those of u not going to watch the video that means their project file looks like this

they also said they never really studied music theory so everything they do is based off mood/vibe

also i like how they did a whole 2 part interview the latter part involving an aru sekai series song but only showing off the first half of it so they STILL have yet to address the series as a series

[fortune-card]

No actually my favorite commentary in Wo/rld Trigger IS the American side eye. Idk if it is intentional(I have to imagine it is!) with so much of the Neighbors being an off hands but invading force. Who is only invading because this country has a resource they need to fuel the endless wars they create among over Neighborhood super powers?

Like it’s almost TOO on the nose!

More than that, (though what I’m about to point out is more recent meme) Yuma’s introductions represents a common East vs West school bullying joke. Which is that countries like China, Japan, and Especially Korea when bullying happens, the victim doesn’t usually fight back. Or it’s very minimal and ineffective.

And in America the victim pulls out a glock.

The joke is, Westerners will fight their bullies, yes, but it will be disproportionate. Minimal violence will be punished with fatal retribution.

So. The bully kick the absolute crap out of Osamu and he sniffles a scolding. They inconvenience Yuma by taking a swing at him and he breaks their foot. I loved this. This was funny and nostalgic.

MY SECOND FAVORITE EXAMPLE IS THE UNMANNED BOMBING DRONE HEADING FOR THE MOST POPULATED AREAS WHEN UNABLE TO RETURN HOME.

Was a little offended even. Was tugging on my collar like “Yeesh. You weren’t even alive when it happened. Chill.” And then laughed because, of course, BANG. The American imperial dominance, the ‘white supremacy’ aspect highlighted in the little joke in my head.

Dude, I’m telling you it’s actually a really well thought out manga!

Very excited to learn more about Hyuse for this reason.

[eddiexmunsn]

i hate my heart i hate my heart i hate my heart

im back in fucking AFIB again my heart is in my throat i'm shaky i'm sweaty im light-headed and im exhausted. and of course i've been on hold for an hour now trying to get an appointment scheduled so hopefully they can DO SOMETHING and not just tell me i'm too young for any procedures and just toss me some meds to hopefully stop it.

just give me a cardioversion at this point, i'll deal with the burns just make it stop please

[ozzgin]

Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff

Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats

Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea

[Main Story] | [General Headcanons]

Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.

"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.

"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."

"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"

The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.

"I see. That's good."

"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."

"That's good."

Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.

"You okay?"

Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.

They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.

The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.

The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.

***

You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.

It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”

You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.

“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.

He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”

You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.

“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.

Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.

To hell with it.

“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”

“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.

“N-no?”

“Would you mind staying over?”

“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.

“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.

He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.

“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”

Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.

“What wrong idea?”

Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.

“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.

“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.

The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.

“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”

You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.

“I’m dead serious.”

He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.

“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.

Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.

As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.

“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”

“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.

He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.

“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”

You nod erratically.

The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.

“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”

He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.

“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.

In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.

Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.

***

“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”

You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.

“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”

The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.

Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.

“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”

“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”

“What?” You ask, baffled.

“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.

“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”

He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.

“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”

From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.

His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.

“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”

You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.

“Go ahead.” You finally confess.

He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.

One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.

“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”

He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.

“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”

You glare at him, feverish.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”

Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”

Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.

“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”

“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”

Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.

“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.

His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.

“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”

“I’m just…” your words trail off.

“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”

Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He sighs loudly.

“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”

Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.

“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”

“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.

[saetoru]

tee!!! i hope u don't mind me asking about rb!gojo but i've been wondering if he's ever visited reader at work? :o (actually i wonder a lotta thINGS about rich boy! gojo and reader, this is just the thought that i think about the most LMAO)

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SECURITY — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationships, reader’s work is unspecified ; notes. niku HELP. i bet he does visit often and i bet it’s equally endearing as it is utterly embarrassing

for anyone else, having your boyfriend visit you at work is sweet. it’s romantic. it might even be the standard—for you, having satoru visit is a nightmare.

“hiya baby! i brought lunch—i know you didn’t have time to eat breakfast today, you were running late. i kept you up all night, huh? you seemed tired. what can i say? i’m just too good at what i do.”

what. the. fuck—every time satoru opens his mouth, you regret not sewing it shut when you had the chance. he manages to make you wish you could crawl into your own skin and turn inside out.

you glare at him. he grins.

“this is your boyfriend?” your coworker gapes, staring at satoru as he plasters a smug little smirk on his face—a part of you wants to tell your coworker to stop looking at him with heart eyes before you staple them shut. the other part wants to deny ever being involved with the jerk that’s effectively embarrassed you for the rest of your career in the span of two seconds.

“i don’t know who this is,” you say quickly, “can we get security?”

“wha—what are you talking about? i’m literally your boyfriend,” satoru sputters. you look at your coworker like he’s crazy—she looks at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“he’s not,” you insist.

“i am!”

“definitely not,” you shake your head.

satoru looks more than a little offended. “i totally am! don’t lie!”

“i swear he’s not my boyfriend,” you chuckle nervously, “i don’t even date guys with freaky blue eyes and weird white hair, really!”

“hey!” he gasps, pouting, “that’s mean! you called me handsome this morning!”

“i don’t even know his name,” you insist—your coworker doesn’t seem to believe you, unfortunately. why doesn’t she believe you? you plead with the universe that she somehow, by the grace of god, believes you.

“that’s a lie,” satoru snorts, “you knew it pretty well last night. i think my neighbors know it too.” leave it to gojo satoru to embarrass you even worse than he already has at your job of all places.

“satoru,” you scold harshly before you realize—and then you blink before sighing because…well, you’ve really backed yourself into a corner with that one.

“aha,” he grins victoriously, “see? you know my name. now introduce your boyfriend who took the time to cook you—”

“buy,” you correct. he huffs.

“fine. buy you lunch—still very thoughtful, if you ask me.”

“wow,” your coworker giggles, “you guys are…certainly a dynamic.”

“thank you!” satoru grins, beaming as he sends you a wink. you think you might have to put in your two weeks notice during your lunch break—but at least you can wallow in your miseries with an expensive lunch provided by the bane of your existence.

“that wasn’t a compliment, satoru,” you grumble.

“well, at least he’s cute,” she chuckles, elbowing you.

you scowl, crossing your arms as you warn, “don’t be looking too closely. he enjoys the attention.”

“are you jealous?” satoru wiggles his brows. with a fake smile, you grab the lunch from his hands before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“thank you for lunch baby,” you hum—he smiles, ready to answer when you cut him off, “security!”

this is so unserious 💀

[cipher-fresh]

💬 suffering-academy-student Follow

does anyone else wish u could regenerate but not change and not use up a regeneration. just like do a hard reboot

#i'm gonna call myself The Sufferer

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💫 constellationon-kasterborous Follow

what is it even like to not be a time lord do you like get impaled by rebar at 45 years old and just die. couldn't be me

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🚀 silvertraveller Follow

_____👶 timelordtoddler Follow

_____playing with a roentgen radioactive brick in the nursery rn

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🔉 gallifreyballifreyshmallifrey Follow

i love this website because its the only place you can say you have interfered with the natural flow of time and you won't get investigated by the CIA

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😉 winkles-wonderland Follow

who up lording they time

#no I don’t need to add any extra tags thanks I trust my audience will find it

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👦 theresponsibilityavoider Follow

I was skipping school hanging out in a clearing and some guy exited a portal from a CONFESSION DIAL 😭 and he was like “Go to the city. Find someone important. Tell them I’m back. Tell them, they know what they did. And I’m on my way. And if they ask you who I am, tell them ‘I came the long way round’” 😭😭😭 what the hell

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💬 oneofthegreathouse Follow

if you have a fetish for people being born through bodily reproductive systems KEEP IT TO YOURSELF!!!! nobody needs to see that on their dash

__♻️ callmeweaver Follow

__Ok Puriteen you need to get on my level. sexualize looms OR ELSE!!!!!

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💫 thecurator Follow

the high council of gallifrey: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “the timeless child” 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯

Me: yeah whatever. I don’t feel shit.

5 minutes later: dude I swear I just saw some pre-Hartnell doctors

My buddy the Master pacing: the Time Lords are lying to us

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🏠 somegrandolgallifrey Follow

I heard some kid crying himself to sleep in a cabin. COULD not be me

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♾️ thatacademygraduate Follow

Went to a museum today! I saw a lot of really cool stuff but something I couldn’t stop thinking about was this horrifically busted up Type 40 TARDIS that literally looked like it was held together with duct tape, chewed gum and prayers 😵‍💫😵‍💫 girl kill that thing I’m so sorry….

#i think it was even still alive. please put it out of its misery for the love of rassilon

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🥽 howsitgoinghowitgoes Follow

Bruh my best friend and I tried to play a prank on my brother but it went wrong and he hit his head so badly he REGENERATED i need to go into hiding

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😐 the-hybrid Follow

Who am I

#please for the love of god help me

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🔹 thetasigma Follow

Koschei and I skipped school today and went stargazing. We agreed to visit every single one together when we leave this stupid planet. I love them so much. We're going to be together forever.

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💭 siblingofkarn Follow

Why do I keep having nightmares about Gallifrey being destroyed in like 5 different ways, that could literally never happen

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🤖 pompousandstuffy Follow

I literally hate children soooo much like today some ninety year old tried to speak to me. KILL YOURSELF THIRTEEN TIMES ‼️

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👽 cheapandnastytraveltime Follow

For a Time Lord I have such a bad sense of time. if chamelon arches were real i would make myself literally any other species

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😍 starstartwinkletwinkle Follow

I have to stare into the untempered schism tomorrow. Any advice?

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)

word count: 33,577 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)

side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3

So it started something like this.

It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.

Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.

He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.

The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.

Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.

He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.

Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.

Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.

"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.

"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.

He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.

"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.

"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".

"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.

"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"

The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.

When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.

His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.

He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.

"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.

The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?

God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.

He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.

"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.

There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.

The whole situation is stupid.

But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.

"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.

You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.

That's how it continued.

Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.

"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".

He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.

Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.

Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.

He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.

So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.

"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.

There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.

"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".

If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.

Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.

You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.

"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".

He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".

Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.

"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"

"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.

But you don't.

The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 

He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.

He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.

She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.

"Need'a ride?"

Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.

"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".

I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.

I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.

He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"

"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"

Do you really want to do this?

The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.

You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."

Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.

"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."

That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.

"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.

You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".

"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".

He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.

"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".

It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.

"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".

"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.

You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.

"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.

"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?

"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"

"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.

Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.

"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.

So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.

"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.

Your face shows surprise and something else.

"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.

"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.

You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."

"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.

You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.

"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.

Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.

When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.

"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.

Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"

"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.

Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.

“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”

After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.

“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.

Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.

“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.

“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".

“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".

You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.

What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?

"S'rry for the wait"

You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.

"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"

You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.

"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"

He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.

"What do you want us to do?"

His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.

"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"

You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.

"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.

Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.

The habit of loneliness settles in between, and the flame they thought in deep slumber rekindles, burning with their long time unattended needs.

"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"

If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.

"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"

Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.

"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.

He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.

His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.

His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.

“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”

You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.

The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.

"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."

His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.

"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"

He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.

But maybe he likes pain.

"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".

You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.

“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”

The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.

You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.

“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.

“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.

“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.

Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.

"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"

You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.

"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.

Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.

He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.

"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"

You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.

Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?

He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.

"I want to see them on you"

He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.

"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”

His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”

He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.

In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.

“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.

Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.

There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.

He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.

His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.

It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:

Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.

"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"

He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.

So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.

"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".

When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.

"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"

For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.

"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"

"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.

"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".

"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."

"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".

Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.

But maybe you are the answer.

Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”

That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : the fever

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : blurb based on this request!!!! or hamzah takes care of reader while she's sick

mickey speaks : i hope u enjoyyyy, more of my hamzah works can be found here <3 also i’m updating my tag list so pls lmk if you’d liked to be tagged in any fics in the future

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

there's no worse way to start your morning than in a pool of your own sweat and reading a thermometer displaying 101.2°F.

without any strength to attempt to leave your bed and no appetite to drive you to perseverance, you're left slumped lazily against your hot pillow.

just as your blinks begin to slow and your eyes droop low, an irritating sequence of vibrations beam from your phone. you pinch your eyes and let out a slightly dramatic but definitely necessary whine that turns into a groan as you stretch your arms far above your head.

you take your time, hoping whoever is waiting on the other line takes the hint by the forth ring that you’re busy drowning in your misery. you open your eyes just a peek before the ringing completely stops.

a relieved sigh comes over you as you lift your plush comforter over your head in hopes of reducing any natural light your windows allow to shine into your cluttered room.

it rings once more.

“fuck!” you let a blip of rage slip out in a seething tone, kicking your feet against your mattress harshly (an immature way of expressing yourself which makes you feel fifteen again; annoyed by your old obnoxious alarm clock).

you pull the oversized covers from your face and lean over to fiddle and grab your phone from its charging dock on your jagged, wooden night stand.

your tight expression is slightly shattered when you see the large text and tiny image in the corner of the facetime call displaying your boyfriend’s name and face.

you swipe to answer, falling back onto your pillow and covering your torso with the comforter once more (after having stripped of any clothing throughout the sleepless night).

your pouty face goes to the corner of the call as hamzah displays largely across your screen. he’s set his phone on top of his dashboard, still focused on actively driving when you answer.

“heyy, whatcha’ doing? haven’t responded to my texts at all, i was gettin’ worried..” his tongue plays with the gum in his mouth, popping multiple tiny bubbles at once.

your voice gives an unexpected voice crack, “i’m doing terrible,” hamzah’s a bit thrown off by your response but you don’t acknowledge his facial expression, instead you rub your eyes, “where are you going?”

“what happened?!” he arrives at a red light and looks at you while he’s stopped, “did you not sleep well? i was on my way to get you- thought we were playin’ pickleball today with martin and mandy.”

“eughhhh, i totally forgot about that- i’ll have to text and tell them i can’t anymore i’m like dyinggg, h. my temperature’s over 100.” you sniffle and groan.

“nah, don’t worry about that i’ll tell ‘em we can’t make it. you just stay put and i’ll be over in like- just a sec, okay?” he keeps glancing over to look at you which you appreciate, though you prefer for him to pay attention- but you don’t necessarily feel like getting into a back in forth with him over his driving habits right now.

“m’kayyyy you’re the best, love you.” you thank him gently, blowing a kiss towards the camera.

“mmm i like hearing that. you’re my favorite.” he smiles to himself, “yeah, um, i’ll see you in a bit- maybe try and get some sleep though, girl?”

“i’ll try,” you whisper.

“okay, be right there, love you.”

✧₊⁺

you’re not sure how long hamzah’s been at your side when you eventually wake up again to him sat next to you, looking through one of your many 2000s magazines.

you tap his knee silently, seemingly in a better mood after some well needed rest and the comfort of waking up in hamzah’s presence.

he displays a faux since of shock, “wow and she’s somehow even prettier when awake!”

you smile and slip your hand under your cheek as you lay and look at him, “hi, when’d you get here?”

he places your magazine down next to him, "got here maybe two hours ago? i stopped by a store and grabbed you some medicine to take and some other essentials like kitkats and iced tea- did you know hilary duff and lindsay lohan had hella back and forth beef??"

you nod, "duh, of course i do! and getting me snacks wowwww you're so perfect, huh?"

hamzah playfully shrugs his arms up and down, "a little somethin' like thattt, just for you."

you laugh but begin to cough uncontrollably, to which hamzah screws his face up in faux disgust; you stare, "thanks."

“nahh i’m playing,” he grabs one of your hands and kisses the back of it, “do you need me to do anything?”

“can you come brush my teeth with me?”

he nods immediately, standing up and picking your body (wrapped delicately in your covers) up and carrying you bridal-style into the bathroom down your skinny hallway.

on the way there you laugh again which leads to another coughing fit which you cover as much as you possibly can. hamzah teasingly stretches you away from him whining out an “eeuuuhhhh!!!” but you are quick to give him a glare that has him giggling and apologizing by curling you back into his broad chest smacking a few million kisses onto your cheek.

you push his face away in warning, “stop it you’re gonna get sick, stupid!!!!”

✧₊⁺

hamzah stands between your legs as you sit on the counter and brush your teeth. he thinks you look like an angel- or maybe a tooth fairy with the suds elegantly surrounding your mouth. despite your runny nose, hot, clammy skin and sleepy eyes, the white comforter manages to compliment your complexion in the most beautiful of ways. the sight in front of him was weirdly so angelic… “so pretty…” he lets his thoughts trickle into the air.

you pause your movements and look up at him starting to grin before scooting to the side and spitting into the sink. he grins and decides to joke with you a bit, scratching the back of his neck and blowing a raspberry into the air next to him, “did i say pretty?? i meant so ….sickly??” he squints his eyes a little trying to figure out where exactly he’s going with this, “because you’ve come down with something…. bad.”

you roll your eyes and shake your head, “it sounds like you want to call me beautiful…” you bat your eyelashes as you quote him through a mouthful of toothpaste and an insane urge to laugh.

hamzah laughs for you and wipes his eyes exclaiming, “enough! let’s wrap this up.”

✧₊⁺

hamzah made you take medicine and eat top ramen with him before you lay back down in bed. now you're lying up against your headboard watching reruns of sabrina the teenage witch with blankets curled up to your chin.

when hamzah finally comes back into your room he knocks twice before stepping into the space; he’s adorned with an arrangement of white tiger lilies in his hand and a small smile on his face.

you’re absolutely shocked, “what the fuck??? h, when’s you have time to get those?!” you prop yourself up and he hands them to you.

“i saw a little shop that was closing up when i was on my way back to my place just now; it’s cute you’d like it,” he moves to lay next to you.

“thank you,” you look at him lovingly, “for everything today; you treat me so well. how were the kitties doin’?”

“mhmm, they’re fine missin’ you though.” hamzah feels a since of pride from your words, taking the flowers from your hand and setting them on your nightstand (next to a roll of toilet paper you’ve used for your runny nose and a few empty water bottles). he turns back to you and brings his hand up to hold your face, “you’re so easy to treat well.” he leans closer to your face and your eyes shift down to his lips before you’re pulling away.

you playfully scoff and shake your head no, “nuh uh, i’m not getting you sick!”

“baby i’ve been around you all day and feel fine!! my immune system is the best there is, ‘promise.” he traces your lips with his thumb gently.

“you’re sooo…” you mumble the scold, turn on your side to move away from him.

he leans over you giggling, “amazing?” he kisses your cheek. “perfect?” another closer to your lips, “you’ve said them all before!” he sets a sweet kiss to your pouty lips before retreating back lie against the pillow next to you.

“i was gonna say needy but those work as well…” you grumble and smile to your self, “hold me?” you ask a bit louder, peeking over your shoulder to see hamzah drop his phone and immediately give you the attention you want from him, nuzzling you close and kissing your neck softly.

✧₊⁺

a few weeks later via Out of Character on YouTube

martin: yeah, and you’ve been freaking sick the past week and a half! how was that?

hamzah: very whimsical and magical. i’m kidding obviously it sucks and y/n was actually the one to give it to me! i’m not blaming but i am.

martin: i think that’s the worst part about having a girlfriend like if she’s sick you’re gonna get sick too- mandy’s like a freaking warrior though she’s never sick. it’s actually really odd.

hamzah: it’s because she’s a nurse, i think

martin: actually dude?

hamzah: yeah i read about it (he’s lying)

[vivvangel]

could u do when enha sees u trying to reach smtg on top of tha shelf ( short reader ) tysmmm and I love ur content

viv's note 💌: this is such a cute ask, thank u!! tried keeping it gender neutral. girlies who read dork diaries raise your hand also nikis scenario is a bit diff ig ☝🏻 ✧ warnings: very small and precise scenarios tbh. enha x short reader, teasing, use of nicknames and swearing. fluff!

tiny | enhypen reaction to their short s/o trying to reach something on top of the shelf !

LEE HEESEUNG (♡⁠)

"what are you doing, baby?" he says, a smirk spreading on his lips when he sees you not being able to reach the top shelf. "just tryna-" you pause, tiptoing to reach it, but no avail. "just trying to grab my mug, hee" you turn around, pouting — heeseung thinks you're absolutely adorable, coming towards you and patting your head, grabbing the mug with ease, you could never. "here you go," he smiles softly, why was your boyfriend such a giant? you weren't short, he's just too tall! really.

PARK JONGSEONG (♡⁠)

from the bedroom, jay heard you screaming, "JAAAAAYY" — him frantically running to your voice, "what's wrong?, oh my god" jay's eyes scan the room for a second, "love, what's wrong?" he asks softly. you looked at him, as you stood in front of the bookshelf, with your hands on your hip. cute, jay thinks, walking to you. "my majesty, how can i help you?" he says sarcastically and you point to the fourth shelf, "dork diaries, i wanna reread.. dork diaries" you say, your voice trailing off into a mere whisper by the end of it. "goodness sake, love" he eyerolled, grabbing it for you.

SIM JAEYUN (♡⁠)

baking with jake, what could ever go wrong? nothing, except the fact you couldn't reach a damn thing. "i swear in another life, ill be born as a 7 foot nba player, for fucks sake" you huff, as a result of being unable to grab the sugar, as you continue mixing the cupcake batter to achieve a more liquid state. "yeah right, you'd still be a short dork" jake chuckles, shooting you a playful glance as he grabbed the sugar from the shelf, sliding it on the counter to you. "hey, you aren't that tall yourself, mr sim" you taunt, making him grin. "taller than the you, aren't i?" — "oh, shut up yunie"

PARK SUNGHOON (♡⁠)

the front door of your shared apartment flung open, sunghoon glancing at the door before his eyes went back on the game he was playing on the tv. "you home already?" he asks, glancing at you once again as you come in with your shopping bags, putting them down on the kitchen counter. "you will not believe what happened!" you say, sunghoon noting a frustrated tone in your voice. he looks behind, "mhm, tell me about it" and looks back at the game. "i was at the store, and i was struggling to grab stuff from the shelves and the worker there thought i was a fucking child, can you believe that?" you scoff, it was completely unbelievable to you that they'd think that — not that unbelievable to your boyfriend, sunghoon, who literally always towered over you. he quietly chuckles — "stop laughing at my misery, hoon!"

KIM SEONWOO (♡⁠)

"baby, i wanna do that big boy trend" you voiced out, sitting up on the sofa. "big boy trend? isn't that dead already?" sunoo says skeptically, side eyeing you. you whine out a please, and he agrees — "but cutie, compared to you, i'm like.. actually big, you couldn't even grab the bowl—" he says, biting his lip to hide the wheeze that would come out if he didn't, "i'm not short!" — "yeah, princess, whatever you say. now come here!"

YANG JUNGWON (♡⁠)

"wonie, i have something extremely serious to talk about" you lowly say, making jungwon look at you, narrowing his eyes. "serious, huh? what's up?" he says, his voice laced with concern. "i think.. i think i'm too short for you" — what? jungwon starts laughing, how does he have the audacity to laugh! "why are you laughing, won?" you question him, crossing your arms. "baby, you're so tiny and cute, i wanna put you in my pocket. -- oh? is this about you not being able to grab my tie from that box earlier?" he chuckles, and you nod. "you're so short, but you're cute so it's fine" — "so, you think i'm short?" — "i think you're cute, y/n"

NISHIMURA RIKI (♡⁠)

having a boyfriend so tall, makes you look like a little gremlin beside him (his words, not mine!) "riki, i'm literally not that short, you're just—" you tiptoe, trying to get the childhood photo of you out of his hands, you don't even get to finish your sentence, niki cutting you off. "i'm just too tall" he mimics your tone, bursting out in laughter, ruffling your hair. "hey! i wasn't done!" you pout, but he kisses it away.

[miley1442111]

HEYY I WAS THE ONE WHO ASKED FOR THAT FIC WHERE RAFE HAD TO CHOOSE IT WAS PERFECTTTT SO MUCH MORE PERFECT THAN I WAS EXPECTING!!! THANK YOU SO MUUUUUUUCHHHH YOU SAVED MY LIKEEEE!!!!!

So... Since you saved and now im already in dept with you can I ask for another one??? Pleaseee!! If you dont like Its ok just ignore and If you feel uncomfortable IM SORRYYY.

It would be something like, Rafe gets into a fight as always and then the reader, his friend tries to break the fight and then the other person fighting Rafe says something like "YEAH LISTEN TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND/THEYFRIEND" and like every single person on the vicinity goes dead silent because everyone know you guys like each other but didnt realized yet and EVERYONE is scared of Rafe and also both of you have a partner, whos RIGHT there and will for now on live with the knowledge that: Since Rafe and Reader met, every other relationship they would have would be the runner-up.

Maybe Rafe and Reader trying to prove everyones wrong by sticking to the partners but its undeniable how the two are good for each other, how the always serious and scary Rafe looks like a normal funny happy guy when hanging out with the Reader who also goes from a quiet apathetic person ta burning sun.

Sorry this os too long 😭😭😭😭😭

Also i typed that listening to Entombed by Deftones

Byeee love youuuuuu

----------------------

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waiting game- r.cameron

----------------------

a/n: welcome back light of my life anon. ur too cool i knew u listened to deftones bc only cool people can. thank you for requesting :)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, male oc x fem! reader, rafe cameron x female oc

summary: i suggest you look at the ask

warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is a bit of a fucking prick to Ava and reader, rafe is confused and a dick, cursing, underage drinking, drinking, suggestive mentions, reader is going through it, rafe is a crybaby, violence, creepy guy (I think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

----------------------

Rafe watched as you crossed the busy dance floor, two drinks in hand. Usually, one of those would be his, he was your best friend after all. But in recent weeks, you’d been becoming friendly with a pogue named ‘Elijah’. He hated him, seriously, he did. He was a piece of shit in Rafe's eyes, and somehow that made you like him more. 

You and Rafe had been friends since you were little kids, and you’d always brought out the best in each other. When Rafe was around you, he wasn’t a lunatic with raging anger issues and a god complex, around him, you weren’t the shy, quiet girl everyone knew you to be. It worked well, and you promised each other that you’d never bullshit each other. That meant; he’d never lie to you, and that you’d always tell it to him straight. It worked, and it worked well. 

So well in fact, that people usually assumed you were dating.

Years and years of being told by your respective friends and family that you two should ‘just date and put the entire island out of its misery made the idea even less appealing, at least to you. You always wanted to do the opposite of what you were told, and that meant never even thinking of Rafe in a romantic sense. Obviously, Rafe never thought of you like that either. He didn’t think about how sweet your lips would taste, how well you two fit together, how you brought out the best in him, or how much he loved you being around. He’d never think about how good calling you ‘his girlfriend’ was when he had to fend off assholes at the bar. He’d never even mention how good it felt to know he was your first kiss, and how you were his (courtesy of you two being very drunk 15 year olds). 

He never thought about any of that. That would be weird, right?

So he stood, his new girlfriend, Ava, hanging off of his arm as he watched you sit in Elijah’s lap. 

“Rafey,” she whined and he winced. He hated that name. “I’m so drunk!” 

She’d had a beer and two vodka lemonade’s he’d made with about one shot of vodka between the two, she wasn’t drunk. Ava was the perfect kook princess, and she was driving him crazy, but Midsummers was in three months, and his dad told him he needed someone respectable. That’s what he’d told you when he asked for candidates, though he must’ve failed to mention the way his dad asked him to bring you. 

“Ava, go sit down then,” Rafe shrugged her off of him. “I have to go talk to someone, ok?”

“You’re seriously leaving me here alone?” Her face formed a frown, but Rafe couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck. 

“Yes,” he answered before walking off to find you. 

The last couple of months had been very freeing for you. You’d finally gotten over the crush you’d had on Rafe for years, and you were finally out having fun and really dating for the first time. You had your friends, and Rafe finally stopped scolding you like an old man every time you went out with the pogues, you made friends with more people from the mainland since you’d started to go to college there, and Rafe had a girlfriend, so he wasn’t constantly with you, making your crush come back. It felt good. Elijah was hot, and all you really wanted was to fuck someone, and he’d do just fine. Dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and if the semi he was sporting underneath you now was any indication, he was do just fine in the ‘fucking’ department. 

“So what are you studying?” he asked, taking another sip. The mixture of drink and smoke in the air made your head spin in the best way. 

“Journalism and English lit,” you answered, pressing your hand against his chest. “You?”

“Maths,” he answered and you laughed. 

“That’s unexpected,” you chuckled. He looked like he was a surfer boy, not a maths major. His dirt tank top, worn-in swim shorts, and salty skin. He was hot. He laughed with you as his hands travelled lower, grabbing your ass, and you didn’t even mind. 

“I know, right?” He smirked. 

“So why did you pick maths?”

“I’m good at it,” he shrugged. “And I got a scholarship.”

You nodded. “So can you do like, any maths question?” You knew it was low-hanging fruit in terms of flirting, but you really weren’t in the mood for trying very hard. It was late and you were pretty drunk. 

He nodded nipping at your lips with his own. Your conversation was long forgotten as your finger ran through his hair and he groaned into your mouth. He was a good kisser, despite his wandering hands, which were either on your ass or tits, but again, you didn’t mind. 

He pulled away with glazed, lust-filled eyes. “You wanna get out of here?”

You nodded, then pulled him back in to kiss you. 

“Y/n!” Jj’s voice rang out in your ear, and he started to tap you hard on the shoulder. “Eli!”

You pulled away, annoyed. “What?” 

“Rafe is beating the shit out of  one of Eli’s friends, can you talk him down please?”

“What?” Eli asked. “Who?”

“Josh,” Jj answered. “Let’s go Y/n, before Rafe kills someone ideally!” Jj said it in a sing-song voice to mask the truth in his words. Rafe had come very close to seriously hurting people before, and every year he was just getting stronger (thanks to his gym addiction and never-ending rage). 

You reluctantly got off of Eli’s lap and ran behind Jj as he led you to the scene. 

Rafe was beating the shit out of Eli’s best friend, Josh and he was not looking good. He was trying to fight back, but you could tell he was close to tapping out, though you also knew that Rafe didn’t do ‘tap-outs’. 

“Rafe!” You shouted as the circle of people silenced. “Stop being a fucking idiot, get off of him!” you grabbed one of his arms, angry now. Your nights were always getting ruined by Rafe, especially recently. He had no right to pull shit like this, it wasn’t fair that you always had to clean up his messes. 

“Yeah exactly, listen to your girlfriend!” Josh spat. 

The circle of people watching went dead silent, and phones stopped recording. Both you and Rafe froze. Josh dropped to the floor, and Eli walked him off without sparing you a glance. The moment was frozen, and you were stuck in place, staring at Rafe's eyes.

Rafe could always tell how you were feeling but he couldn't now.

And it scared the shit out of him.

After another moment of confusion and being frozen, you looked after Eli, and tried to walk after him, but Rafe grabbed your arm. 

“Can we talk ab-”

“No! You fucking asshole! Did you really need to ruin tonight for me? Seriously? Go fuck yourself Rafe!” You cursed, then turned to the crowd around you. “Rafe Cameron is not my boyfriend, nor will he ever be, the shows over folks, fuck off!”

And with that you ran off to find Eli and Josh. 

----------------------

Rafe was searching the party for you. You weren’t where Eli had been before, and he wanted to talk to you, to drag you away from that piece of shit. 

In all honesty, the past few months had been a very confusing time for Rafe. He’d started college (only because his dad asked him to), he’d gotten his first long-term (3 months so far) relationship, he’d gone off drugs for the most part, he’d started feeling things for you. 

His best friend. 

Not that he hadn’t realised it before, but you were just so… you. So gorgeous, so smart, so funny, all of you. It was proving to be an issue, so he’d stopped hanging out with you so much, at least until he could figure out what was going on. He was about 99% sure his feelings were platonic, because everyone felt this way for their best friend, right? Obviously. Totally. Maybe?

He crossed the dance floor, only to be met with the face of Josh, Eli’s friend. And he was talking about you.

“Yeah, Eli’s got the only fucking hot girl here,” He smirked. Rafe hated how he smirked. He hated how he looked. He hated everything about this man, the one he’d never even met. “I’ll ask him if he’ll share,” he laughed like a sleazy piece of shit, and so did his friends. 

“Excuse me,” Rafe tried to move past them, but Josh grabbed his arm.

“Oh shit! You’re the boyfriend,” Josh chuckled and Rafe didn't correct him. “Sorry dude, she’s all mine tonight.”

And that’s when Rafe’s right hand made contact with his face. 

----------------------

Rafe stood there staring dumbly at his bloodied and bruised hands. You’d never spoken to him like that, ever. Rafe knew he could fly off the handle, and he knew it annoyed you when you had to fix everything for him, but you’d never complain. Tonight. Tonight, it finally boiled over and you shouted at him. Like he was anyone. Like he wasn’t your best friend, your Rafe. 

“You ok?” 

Topper’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears. Rafe’s eyes were glossy with unshed tears and it was taking a lot of willpower to not scream and try to break something, or sob and run after you. 

“Fine,” he said, letters over-punctuated as he rolled his eyes, looking up to stop the tears from falling. 

“Rafey!” Fucking Ava. “Did you get into another fight over me again?” She sighed, faking anger. He knew she didn’t give a fuck if he fought, she only cared about what the fight was about. 

“No,” he answered, getting closer to her face, dwarfing her with his tall height. “Go away.”

She pouted. “Rafey-”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” He cursed, grabbing the wrist of her hand, which was reaching to touch his face. “Ava, go home.”

“You brought me here,” she mumbled. 

“Yeah, so find another way home,” he chuckled softly, delighting in making her feel small. 

Ava looked down, angry now. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

Rafe just smirked. “But you’re still with me, so I must not be that bad,” he laughed in her face. “Unless it’s just your daddy issues-”

He was hit so fast he didn’t even know what had happened. 

“Don’t ever talk to her like that again,” Kiara scoffed, squaring up to Rafe. “Ava, you can get a ride with me, ok?” Ava nodded and walked off with Kiara as you appeared. 

Kiara’d hit him. And he’d deserved it. 

Kelce and Topper cleared off, they knew this was about you. 

“How’s Elijah?” He rubbed his red cheek. 

“Josh is fine, thanks for asking,” your voice was cutting and precise. 

“I asked about Eli,” Rafe growled, grabbing your hand. 

“And I answered about Josh.”

He chuckled. “Your friends suck.”

“Your girlfriend is a bimbo.”

Rafe smiled. “And she takes dick like a champ, what more could a man want?”

Your face went from mild annoyance directly to disgust. “I’ll see you later,” you scoffed, starting to walk off. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” He called after you. “I-I’m sorry, ok? I was an asshole, and I’m sorry. That was a gross thing to say, I’m drunk and I just got beaten up, can you please forgive me?” he begged. 

But you were still walking away from him, and he was losing you. He followed you through the hoards of people, pleading and begging for you to forgive him as he trailed behind.

Finally, on the most secluded area of the beach you turned to him with tears streaming down your cheeks, and he felt his heart break. 

“Fucking hell Rafe! Can you not just notice anyone else around you for once!? You just ruined my fucking chances with Eli, you just beat the shit out of someone, and you just treated your girlfriend like she was some fangirl, you think I was to be associated with you right now? Let alone with you right now?! Can you stop being so tunnel-visioned? Fuck’s sake!” You wiped your eyes. “I’m so sick of being your fucking babysitter, you’re older than me Rafe! Please act like an adult! Treat your girlfriend better and treat the people around you better!” You sighed. “Treat me better.” 

Rafe’s heart was breaking. He never wanted to hurt you, that was the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do. You were with him through everything, through thick and fucking thin. And he was treating you like this? This was unacceptable,and he felt so guilty he wanted to throw up. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, the tears finally falling. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over. “Where?! Where are you fucking sorry Rafe? Because all I keep seeing is empty fucking promises and bullshit excuses,” You groaned. “You think I want to be the one scolding you? You think I want to have to de-escalate situations for you? No! This was my one fucking night off from work too, and you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry,” he was breathing heavily, he’d never felt so shitty. 

“Rafe,” you sighed. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean.”

And with that you walked away. 

----------------------

You dialled Eli’s number and prayed that he would answer. 

“Hey,” he sighed. 

“I’m so sorry,” you immediately answered. “Can we still meet up?”

He sighed into the phone. “I’m not sure Y/n, you kind of seem… preoccupied with Rafe.”

Fuck. Yet another one of your relationships ruined by Rafe Cameron. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t see it?” he chuckled. “You two are perfect for each other. He’s like the most angry and uncontrollable guy I’ve ever seen, and you control him and calm him down by just breathing. And you were the most shy and quiet person I’d ever seen, but when I see you talking with Rafe, or just being around him, you’re so much more brave and extroverted. It’s seriously impressive. You two complement each other Y/n. You bring the real him out, and he brings the real you out. That’s beautiful, and i’m not going to be the person to fuck that up.”

You finally understood. Rafe loved you back. You loved Rafe. Simple. Why did you ever overcomplicate this?

“Ok, thanks Eli,” you sighed, then hung up. You were still angry with Rafe, but you needed to tell him, and you needed to go now.

When you turned around, you ran straight into someone, Rafe.

“I couldn’t just let you walk away, you were crying and-”

“I’m super pissed with you, obviously,” you interrupted. “But I love you, like, love you. And I have for a long time.” 

Rafe’s jaw dropped. That’s all he had wanted to hear his whole life, and he only wanted to hear it form your perfect lips. 

“I-I-I-” he took a deep breath. “I love you too.”

He went in for a kiss but you pushed him back. “I’m still pissed, and you still have a girlfriend.”

He nodded, agreeing. “Right.”

You pressed your lips to his cheek. He smiled. There was a moment of silence. 

“Tanneyhill?” he offered. You agreed, and you walked there hand in hand. 

While you weren’t together yet, you would be. 

And that was enough for the both of you.

----------------------

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[aezuria]

*ੈ✎ two lovers entwined, pass me by

"and heaven knows i'm miserable now" —the smiths

content: leo valdez x roman! reader

╰┈▸ back cover: what if leo gets a little too tired of being the seventh wheel, wait- ninth wheel? (and meets a girl who is a d1 hater)

╰┈▸ warnings: leo and yn dont hate hate couples its a joke okay (unless its not a joke anymore pls give them love-) cursing, maybe ooc reyna? NOT canon compliant, a bit of angst but overall its silly

librarian's annotations: this is now my fav work if u guys dont like it then dont tell me pls 😣

leo was tired. sick and tired of everyone's public displays of affection! can they at least have the decency to romance each other in the privacy of their own rooms!? he did not build ten of them for no reason! there was absolutely no way they needed to suck face at the dining table. like, right in front of his food!?

okay, he was being a bit dramatic. the most everyone was willing to do in public was hold hands. and maybe share a kiss. but that was a kiss too much! and wasn't reyna supposed to off doing (cool) praetor shit!? ever since her and jason made up, leo has not been able to catch a break! can they stop eyefucking each other already!? (they are simply staring into one another's eyes)

"guys." leo swept his gaze over the dining table. he was seated at the end, giving him an unwarranted view of everyone paired up. apparently, love is also deaf, since no one turned their head to him.

"guys!" leo raised his voice. would he be heard over the sound of their unspoken conversations? heads finally spun to look at him, as if they just remembered he was there.

"can you guys like, eat? or do this-" he gestured widely. "elsewhere? and by elsewhere i mean not in front of me."

they all managed to give him the exact same look that was a mix of embarrassment at being called out, and something that said "poor leo, he's so single!" oh come on! jason made it even worse by putting a—what was supposed to be—comforting hand on his arm. "it's okay, leo. i'm sure you'll find someone one day."

this was not funny at all. and leo would know; he's the funniest guy ever! he snatched his arm away with an utterly aghast expression. "ew! get your pity off of me!" he shuddered, playing up the theatrics and wiped his forearm over jason, giving him his couple-cooties back.

the blond reeled back, laughing at his best friend's antics. "what was that for!?"

"don't act like you don't know!" he sneered accusingly.

nights were always the worst for leo. they were quiet, and not the calm, peaceful quiet when he would stay out and watch the sun set, the time before his happiness came to an end. it was an empty quiet, devoid of the laughter he caused, his thoughts become louder to fill up the silence.

(it was night when his mother died, when he had burned down the warehouse. when he had killed her. it was night when he awoke to the front door slamming, the sounds of drunken yells and glass splintering were backing instruments in an interlude of impending misery as he waits for the sun to shine once again. it was night when he ran away, with nothing more than his heavy heart and some left over change.)

leo's thoughts ran rampant with the feelings he kept in a glass box. always there, always seen, very fragile yet rarely opened. sometimes he would shake it a little too hard, and it would come crashing down like a bottle of alcohol, spilling insecurities instead of wine.

tonight was one of those times.

he doesn't know what brought it on. well, he lied; it was the sight of everyone at dinner, looking happy and complete without him. but he was used to it. it shouldn't have bothered him this much. but the more he let it stew, the more it hurt. leo loved his friends, sure, but he couldn't help but have a little bit of resentment at how easy it was for them to make up, make out. hell, even piper got a girlfriend, a mortal one at that! between traveling and fighting monsters, he didn't even know that was possible. what about him was so unlovable?

as he tossed and turned to shake off the voices in his head, he knew that this would be another sleepless night.

today was going to be a good day; leo could feel it in his gut. the skies were clear, there were no monsters coming to wake them up, and the engine was running smoothly. he had time to work on his little projects all day today! he hummed a tune as he walked to the engine room, or his work room for today, and spun a wrench in his hand. maybe he had a little skip to his saunter, a pep in his step. something about today was just so-

his gut lied to him. (maybe he was hungry?) the wrench clattered to the ground as he came to an abrupt stop. "oh. my. gods." leo paused between every word to further emphasize his disdain.

the sight was scandalous, completely and irrevocably scandalous. like, i-need-to-wash-my-brain-out scandalous. and leo was so not being dramatic this time.

percy and annabeth flinched away from each other in a half-asleep fumble, trying to act as if they had not just been caressing each other's bodies mere moments ago. (okay, maybe he was being dramatic again) this wasn't even a romantic place to do that! and leo would know, he's such a romantic guy. what was the purpose of his hard work of making bedrooms if they were just going to sneak off and desecrate his beloved engine room!?

"frank catching you two once wasn't enough?" leo huffed and bent down to pick up his dropped tool. "now i have to see the two of you fraternizing in my domain!?"

"that's not even the proper word-" annabeth had tried to hold back, but the urge to correct him was too much.

"i don't care! shoo!"

leo was so done. his perfect day had been ruined first thing in the morning! now it was late, he was tired, and he was finally heading back to his room to get some much needed rest after holing himself up all day working on random knick-knacks. a soft noise caught his attention. it was dim, the lights low since him and annabeth wanted to save electricity. he felt the familiar dread in his stomach. there was absolutely no way this could be happening.

"we shouldn't do this here..." wait, was that reyna?

"i know.. but i'm gonna miss you when you leave." no. no. NO. the direction the two very very familiar voices were coming from was right in front of the hallway to his bedroom. "please?"

leo was torn. he didn't want to walk in on them, but he couldn't spend another night in the engine room! he wanted his comfy bed right now!

he slapped a hand over his eyes and stepped heavily on the wooden floorboards, giving them a much needed warning. he heard the sound of fabric and shuffling, a satisfied smirk gracing his face.

"are you guys decent?" leo asked, still squeezing his eyes shut under his hand.

jason huffed, no doubt red in the face. "it's not like we weren't in the first place."

leo dared to open his eyes, finding that not only was his face red, but there were bruises starting to dapple his neck. ew. he did not want to think about how that came to be. "uh huh. well go and canoodle somewhere not in front of my room, please and thank you."

"canoodle?"

"reyna i told you, i don't wanna go!" you grumbled akin to a toddler, despite your status as the centurion of the first cohort. you took off your armor, dropping it to the ground haphazardly. "i don't need to see you and mister perfect canoodling in front of me!"

the praetor snorted and shook her head. "'canoodling?' you're the second person i've heard use that word this week." she paused, a thoughtful expression passing over her face. "you guys would get along well, i think. anyways, i'm not asking as a friend, i'm ordering you as praetor."

oh that was so unbelievably low! "what!? reynaa!" you stretched out the end of her name in an embarrassingly childish whine. good thing it was just the two of you here, otherwise no one would let you live it down. "i thought they were supposed to be going soon anyway!?"

"you heard me. and no, they're staying for a couple more nights. something about the engine being broken again?" she shrugged, an amused glimmer breaking through her usually serious front. "besides, we have a lot to discuss about the whole gaea thing, and who better to bring than you? you're my right hand woman."

you tried to hide a smile at her words, but sweet-talk always won you over. "ugh, fine. i guess i'll go."

something was up. you knew that from the moment she asked you to "wear something other than purple for once." who even owned anything but purple!? heck, you didn't even know reyna had different clothes outside of uniform! was that even allowed? you'd only ever seen her wear the same shirt as you, and a toga if the event accounted for it.

you sifted through your wardrobe, digging through masses of violet and coming up blank. oh well, guess its uniform time again. not that you minded all that much.

"you are changing." reyna shook her head, giving you a disappointed look only a mother could offer. this wasn't even a big deal! what was so wrong with your shirt? you rather liked purple!

"but why!? what better way to represent rome than this?" you gestured to your clothing. "aren't we talking business? also this is like the only shirt i have."

"because-"

"you just wanna look all pretty for your boyfriend." you cut her off, faking a gag. "doesn't mean i have to look pretty."

her shoulders tensed and you drew back, already anticipating her near-fatal blow.

"reyna? you know i was just kidding- OW!"

"-wait this is so my color actually." you checked yourself in her mirror. who knew reyna had fashion sense? although not much was required for a simple shirt and jeans.

she nodded and got to her feet. "suits you well. consider it my apology."

"huh? apology for what? for hitting me? aww you're so-"

"no. for what's about to happen to you." a solemn expression took over her face. she was well aware of your exaggerated hatred for couples. maybe you were just a bitter single, but she wasn't about to tell you that. she hoped you would soon be taken (not literally) and stop harassing her for her romantic escapades.

that was ominous. should you be scared for your life? "what the hell does that even mean?"

oh. now you knew exactly what it meant. as the two of you boarded the argo ii, she was immediately swept into a bone-crushing hug by jason, as if he couldn't bear to let her go ever again. you almost threw up at the sight. how could your beloved best friend be reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl at the touch of a man!? a man that had forgotten her! (and remembered, and apologized, and confessed his love- okay, you were starting to see her side quite clearly)

you turned your head away entirely, not wanting to see all that. but everywhere you looked, a new couple seemed to pop up. it was like your worst nightmare come to life. percy and annabeth? piper and some girl? frank and hazel? holding hands? since when were they a thing!? sweet hazel and shy frank? they were—admittedly—adorable, but still!

your only respite was leo looking just as exasperated as you. he must have it way worse; he had to live here with all of them. you shuddered. you were glad you weren't in his place right now.

you stood awkwardly to the side as they reunited. do they do this all the time? and everyone's just cool with it? maybe they can relate, with their taken-ness and all. ugh.

leo peeked at you curiously from the corner of his eye. your expression was as clear as day, face scrunched up in disdain as he traced your gaze to the practically infinite amount of couples onboard. he nodded internally, knowing exactly how you were feeling. but hey, he couldn't just let a pretty girl like you stay unhappy on his ship, not if he could help it!

"hey there," leo said smoothly, or as smooth as he could be after he had almost tripped on the crack between the floorboards. "i'm leo."

finally! someone had the decency to entertain you. "i know you! you're the guy that made octavian throw a hissy fit for firing at new rome!" shit, was that a weird thing to say for a first time interaction? too late now.

the brunette cringed at the mention of his possession. "uh, that's not what most people know me by, but yeah..?"

"oh? and what do most people know you by?" consider yourself intrigued.

leo perked up at your question, having been given an amazing opportunity to charm you. "well obviously it's my rugged good looks, and ingenious inventions, and-"

"we're starting dinner now!" jason called out from the dining table, before recieving an elbow to the gut from reyna and a harsh whisper from piper.

you were lost in your thoughts, zoning out as everyone spoke around you. leo's actually kinda... a tiny part of you popped the idea into your head. he was kinda, indeed. gods, i hate couples. a much larger portion of your mind seemed to yell. do you, or do you just hate being single? you asked yourself. huh. well it's probably-

a cough to your left caught your attention. it was leo. when his brown eyes met yours, you couldn't see a trace of that same boy who was described a traitor and a freak for firing at new rome. maybe something really did possess him.

"wanna know how i built this ship?" he asked excitedly. it was clear that the argo ii was his pride and joy.

"yeah!" you grinned, his cheerfulness rubbing off on you. who cares if he fired on new rome anymore? that was so last tuesday.

"so first, i had this cool metal dragon..."

unbeknownst to you, annabeth whispered across the table to reyna. "i think it's working?"

so, the dinner wasn't anything about business. you did learn a ton from leo though! that was business enough wasn't it? still, you couldn't help the pang of guilt that came with not getting anything work-related done. it was practically in your genes as a roman.

"y/n! you should stay the night!" hazel encouraged from the sofa across you. she was met with choruses of yeahs! and you shoulds! by the other girls, including reyna.

"oh!" you laughed awkwardly, trying to think of a way to politely turn them down. as much as you would love to stay and get to know them, you had a job to do. even if that job was getting all the legionnaires in your cohort to bed by curfew. (like seriously, the amount of times you've had to reel in couples you caught sneaking out was crazy. maybe that's where your hatred came from.) "i'd love to, but i have... centurion duties and all that."

"but reyna has praetor duties and she's staying," annabeth argued. her gray eyes shone with an intensity you only saw on the battlefield. what was going on?

that was new information to you. "you're staying?" you questioned your friend, who looked away with a hint of embarrassment.

"jason's leaving soon," she coughed. after being apart for so long, you could hardly blame her for wanting a little more time with him. "but that's besides the point. you should stay."

you crossed your arms, trying to come up with another excuse. "uh, i don't have clothes to change into?" it was a weak attempt, but you hoped it would work.

"i can lend you some," hazel piped up from the side, obviously eager to make you stay.

aw. she was always so nice. but you had a feeling there was an underlying motive you just couldn't figure out.

you tried again. "i don't think there's a spare room for me to sleep in."

"there's an empty one by leo," piper pointed out.

well, that was it. they refuted all your claims and left you no choice but to stay. you heaved a sigh and relented. "fine."

you weren't sure how it happened, but you ended up with leo again. so much for girls night. but you couldn't complain, leo was good company. he never let the silence stew between you guys for too long, always switching between one topic to the next, until somehow, you were both talking shit about your pathetic love lives and the insufferable ones of those around you.

"you wouldn't believe how many times i've caught these people! i swear, they can never keep it in their pants for more than two seconds! it's like, trauma at this point!" you rolled your eyes, absolutely abhorring the new legionnaires in your cohort.

leo laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. he looked over his shoulder, before leaning in as if telling you a secret. "like two days ago, i caught jason and reyna making out! he had hickies all over his neck!"

you gasped at the scandalous behavior of the two most serious people you knew. "what!? no way..."

the curly-haired boy nodded vehemently. "yes way! it was so gross."

eventually, it was time for the both of you to say your goodnights. leo led you to your room, giving you a cheeky wink before he retreated into his own. you shut the door, and threw yourself into bed.

maybe it was the unfamiliar environment, maybe it was the fact that you were way up in the air, or maybe it was leo running circles around your mind. whatever the reason was, you couldn't sleep. or maybe you chose not to, just to have an excuse to see the stars. the time when they were out was the only time you'd allow yourself a break.

you crept out of the room, careful not to make noise as you made your way out onto the deck. the air was crisp, a gentle bite against your skin. it seemed that the god of the sky was on your side tonight, for the clouds were nowhere to be seen, only the full moon of artemis and the familiar stars shone. you made yourself comfy on the floor, leaning back against the railing as you took a deep breath.

it would be another night of no sleep for leo, that much he could tell. he groaned into his pillow. he couldn't tell if it was the new crush already forming on you, or his angst from a few days before. regardless, his nervous energy made him get up and pace the room, fidgeting with a screw he found on the floor. with footsteps light, he traveled the small area, before something told him to get some fresh air. he obliged. it was better than being in his stuffy room.

as he went up the stairs to the upper level, he caught sight of a figure in the distance. leo's curiosity spiked. he walked closer, the image of you coming into view. your eyes locked on his, a soft smile gracing your face at seeing him. "hey."

"hey." leo dipped his head in greeting, and sat down beside you. "mind if i sit here?"

you shook your head and returned your gaze to the starry night sky, a comfortable silence settling between you two, with only the tapping of leo's fingers against the floor filling the air. it was different, being alone with him. he seemed different. he was quieter, more mellow.

"i hate nights." leo blurted out, breaking the peace you two had shared.

"really?" you asked softly. he braced himself with the condescending remark that was sure to come after, but it never came. instead he received a genuine interest from you. "why's that?"

the boy felt his heart beat a little faster. was he really going to tell you, a girl he barely knew, his whole life story? perhaps it was the late hour that made him want to spill everything out. or the feeling that stirred whenever he looked at you, like magnets attracting. and so he did.

and you listened without any interruption, never followed up with that remark he was waiting for, never gave him the pity he hated. instead, you followed up with your own story.

"i love nights. for me, it's the only time i really feel free. when everyone else is asleep, and it's just you and the stars. away from all the rules." you looked up. they seemed so close from here, way up in the floating ship. they twinkled like glitter, flashing heys and hellos and nice to see you agains. it was beautiful.

leo admired you the way you did the stars. they reflected off your eyes and made your irises shine, the same way fire casted a diffused glow on everything around it. maybe nights weren't so bad after all, if every one of them would be spent with you.

and when you leaned against him to rest your head on his shoulder, whispering secrets into his ear? oh, caligula would have blushed. (leo knows he sure did)

"operation get leo a girlfriend, complete!"

"i thought we were calling it operation get y/n a boyfriend?"

"whatever. operation leoy/n is a success!"

"...you know we can hear you guys, right?"

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.14

More memories

I'm sorry this is a little short I have more and wanted to post more but whenever I tried to add it to my draft Tumblr said no - they'll have to be in a new chapt ? - it was really vexing me last night and has continued to this morning

<<Part 13 Part 15>> Masterlist

Storm's eyes scanned you, she was waiting for you to break. Waiting to pick up the pieces. But you wouldn't falter.

You gave her an honest smile. “How's your plants?”

It was minute but her eyebrows rose. “They're coming along beautifully.”

“My Storm always found it peaceful in her garden.” You picked at a mark on the door. “Always brought me amazing flowers.”

The inner dilemma was plain to see. She was trying to conceal it but you knew her, knew her tells and expressions.

“I don't need a tour.” You put her out of her misery. “It's just a little surreal to be here but not be.”

She was quiet a moment longer before, “You might not need a tour but do you want one?” She gestured behind her. “I can show you my flowers. I hope they're just as nice.”

You took her in then. Her striking hair and glamorous clothes, her kind eyes. She was every bit the Storm you knew. Of course you wanted her tour and of course you wanted her company, whatever she'd offer you'd take.

She was your friend.

You missed her.

“Please.” The word was small.

Storm turned on her heels, her hair flowing as she did, and led you away.

//

Storm led the group into the Professor's study.

You were all pissed.

You'd been on a failed mission and each of you had suffered.

There was a cocky girl, she wore red leather and a cynical smirk.

“My father won't let me kill you.” Her accent was thick as she rolled her eyes. “But I can mess with you.”

With a snap of her fingers you were all flung backwards and out of Genosha.

“Guys?!” Rogue shrieked as she looked down at her skin. It was blue and hairy.

Your head snapped to Hank who was… he was human! He looked startled and as he got upset the clouds above him darkened.

“The fuck is going on?” Logan's eyes snapped to you, you felt fine, didn't feel any different.

“Check your power, try and-” You balled a fist as you spoke - in a gesture to him to use his claws - but as you did three bones sprung out of your knuckles. You shrieked in pain but it eased as quickly as it formed.

Logan's hands were on you in an instant, his capturing your own, but when he touched you you felt awful. Sick, weak, drained. Big purple veins appeared on your skin as he sucked the power out of you.

“Get off her!” Rouge ordered and Logan dropped you.

Storm was the first to stand, her hands were on her hips and she was pacing. “We need to get back. We need the professor.”

“We need to work out what she did to us!” Logan argued.

“And who she is.” Beast added. “And her father. It couldn't be Magneto, could it?”

You heard the following conversation but we're too preoccupied with trying to squeeze your bones back into your arm. They were nauseating to look at. They had weird bumps but not knuckles and they were glistening!

“Why are they wet?” You asked no one in particular, after failing again to sheath them.

“It's okay, they'll go back in.” Logan wanted to pat your back but didn't. “Just try to relax.”

“There's bones sticking out of me.” How wasn't he understanding? This was fucking mental! “I think I'm at the appropriate level of calm.”

“C’mon, let's get back to t’ jet.” Rogue managed to sober up quicker than you for someone who was blue. She looked like a furby.

The flight was fucking awkward.

Beast couldn't control the weather so there was an obscene amount of turbulence which made your claws extend which made Logan go to touch you before Rogue threw her shoe at him.

The cycle repeated until she was throwing pieces from the medkit.

Storm was the level headed pilot but even she was having trouble with your forcefields. The jet locked in one with a particularly bad cumulonimbus.

You covered your mouth with your shoulder, “I might throw up if I have to look at my bones any longer.”

“I'm trying.” Storm raised her hand to stop the field. “I can't get rid of it.”

“You need to f-” You gagged. “Feel the field. Hold it.”

The face she gave you filled the whole team with hope. “How do I 'feel' the field?” It was an inanimate object. It didn't technically exist until she made it. It was unlike her clouds, they had life. She merely contorted them.

“I don't know! How do you feel the clouds?”

“That'd be helpful to know.” Hank jolted as thunder rumbled.

None of you were much help to the other but you did eventually find ourselves back at the mansion.

Charles was ready, waiting for you. “What happened? You're all dif-”

“We don't know her name.” Storm informed him. “Look into my mind, see her.”

Charles' eyes flickered between hers and he frowned. “I haven't come across her in Cerebro.”

“She's next level.” Rogue gestures to her body. She was taller and her suit had ripped due to the wider build.

Hank brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. “She mentioned her father. I believe she meant Magneto.”

That struck a chord with Charles. He tried to pretend it didn't but you caught the twitch of his eye. “I'll have to seek her out.”

~~

It was two weeks later and you still hadn't been fixed.

And to make matters worse Charles’ annual fundraiser was next week. You were all meant to make an appearance, a united front, to show the world that mutants weren't chaotic animals. You were as sophisticated as the yuppies who made the bills and funded places like HYDRA and AIM.

But more importantly than that you were fucking embarrassed. Every time Logan entered your line of sight you got excited or your heart rate increased causing the claws to pop out.

It was mortifying to have everyone see. Yeah everyone knew you were together and you were attracted to him but it was so stupid for you to essentially get a boner when he was just sitting in the kitchen eating toast.

“I hate you.” You smacked your head against the counter, taking the seat next to his, the claws seemed to retreat if you hurt yourself; something Logan loathed but it was a working system so he could fuck himself.

“Claws say otherwise.” He winked at you, itching to kiss your lips. He hadn't been able to touch you for weeks, he was wound so tight and extremely fucking horny.

“You're literally having breakfast and they just appear.” You spoke against the marble, your nose flattened on it. Smell was also something you had to get used to. Everyone smelt vastly different and Logan was ludicrously scrumptious. You could smell him everywhere and hear him. Late at night when he had to relieve himself, cumming into his han- You forced the thoughts from your mind, shoving them anywhere they couldn't hurt you.

“It takes years of practice, kitten.” The claws shot straight back out and you groaned. “You're not the only one that struggles with them.” He admitted, whispering into your ear. “I find it hard sometimes.”

You rolled your head to the side to look at him. Logan gifted you a sweet smile and you groaned again. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Can't help it.”

The two of you had to separate to sleep at night because A) you could kill him with the claws and B) he could kill you with the power absorption.

“Miss you.” You rubbed your covered knee against his.

“You too, gorgeous.”

~~

Dressing for the gala was daunting. Your dress was exquisite and you really, really, didn't want to ruin it.

Logan was able to wear his suit but added an expensive looking turtleneck under the jacket and gloves for obvious reasons.

Rogue flat out refused to attend.

Hank enjoyed blending in with the crowd, wearing a blue suit and slicking his hair back.

Storm did go, she had to as the to be Queen of Wakanda and a high profile mutant. She was wearing a sleek mermaid dress which matched her betrothed’s suit.

Charles was sweating.

He was very worried that this would go to shit.

And it definitely could.

But not only because of you.

He had invited Erik and his children.

Yup.

ChildREN.

Wanda, Pietro and Lorna.

The girls were witches, powerful, scary witches. Pietro was a mutant also, his power was superspeed which could be equally as dangerous but you wanted to take extra care around the girls.

Across the room Erik and Charles were speaking in hushed tones, the former rolling his eyes as the latter spoke.

“Hello.” You forced yourself to approach the children. Wanda - the one in red - raised a brow. “I’m Y/N.”

“Wanda.”

“I'm Pietro, that's Lorna.” Pietro had paper white hair and the same smile as his father. Lorna had Wanda’s nose - it must run in the family - but looked different. Her hair was darker and she was paler.

“That was an impressive move.” You compliment.

Wanda again gives you nothing more than a subtle change in expression.

“She wants her powers back.” Lorna cut to the chase, she didn't have the russian accent, merely an American one.

Wanda smirked. “I know.” Pietro chuckled.

Logan stepped up behind you, you could feel his presence more than see or hear him. “Everything alright here?”

“It's great," You supplied. "I just wanted to introduce myself to the heirs of Genosha.” You gave an awkward nod and blasted finger guns - I don't know why either - before retreating.

Logan led you to one of the food tables and handed you a plate.

You accepted it and shovelled food into your mouth. “I have no idea why that happened.” You admitted with your cheeks full.

“Me neither, I go to the toilet and you're talking to the enemy.”

You scoffed over a cream puff. “They're just kids.”

Logan eyed them, folding his arms. “Dangerous kids.”

"I thought if I spoke to them normally they'd realise we're just like them. We're all in the same boat or some shit." You sighed and swatted the crumbs off your lips and cheeks. “Okay, I'm alright now.”

“You eaten enough feelings?”

“Shut up.” You shoved his shoulder. “But you were right to bring me here, I haven't eaten today.”

“I know.” He glanced at you. “You were too nervous.”

“This is a big responsibility.” The claws were being very good. They hadn't come out at all tonight and you didn't want to be too optimistic but you were very proud. “I don't want to fuck up.”

“If you fuck up, I'll fuck up right next to you.” He promised.

You chuckled, wishing you could kiss him. “Good, my ride or die.”

“Speaking of… you-” He took a deep breath, “-wanna dance?”

You stared at him with wide eyes. Yeah, he'd taken you to the cinema and he'd taken you for dinners and he even splurged for the opera but at somewhere official like this he was always business.

You wore his earrings and matched your dress to his pocket square or tie but neither of you had actually danced before! Not publicly. Not when the world was watching. He didn't want people to know you were his in case they exploited that. What happened if you were harmed to get to him?

There were paparazzi here.

What if you stabbed him?!

“Don't overthink it. Yes or no.” He asked you but his eyes were glued to the crowd.

“Okay.” You breathed before you could say no. Fuck it.

If you go down he goes down.

You had the feeling neither of you cared as long as you were together.

Logan offered you his gloved palm and you accepted it, letting him lead you into the crowd of people. He kept you by the edge but you weren't on the outside.

Shit, you probably should have mentioned, “I don't know how to dance.” You whispered as he arranged your arms in the correct positions, one on his shoulder and one on his forearm.

“I do.” He didn't elaborate but led you in an expert waltz. Twirling you around the dancefloor in sync with the other couples. You followed his lead with ease, melting into the warm feeling it brought.

Logan's eyes were trained on you as you glanced around the room. He wanted to kiss you so badly. Wanted to claim you as his in front of all these important hot shots. Wanted the world to know. He was ready for that. Ready to accept the risk and forever be your protector as long as everyone knew you were his.

But he couldn't.

He could barely hold your hand.

So he dipped you as low as possible, making your breath stutter - your hands pointing away from him in case the wretched claws sprung to action.

“You're getting good at controlling them.” Logan commented as he straightened the two of you.

“Years of practice, kitten.” You echoed his words. “It's easier in the evening, don't ask me, I don't know why. But it is.”

Logan laughed and released you to bow as the band finished the song.

“May I have this dance?” Magneto spoke behind you. You hadn't even risen from your courtesy as he asked.

You turned to see if he was speaking to anyone else but nope. You were the only one in the surrounding area. The only one he was interested in.

“Uh, yeah suuure.” You nodded. It would look rude if you didn't. The mutants couldn't be divided. That was the whole reason he was here in the first place!

“I'll have her back in one piece.” Erik winked to Logan before sweeping you away.

Your eyes were on Logan, as Erik positioned you in the centre of the dance floor, your chin touching your shoulder before you had to turn to your partner.

Logan was angry but he didn't show it, and he was suspiciously quiet when Mangeto spoke to you. Erik must've clamped his jaw shut.

You were amazed that Logan could still operate with an Adamantium skeleton but he did and you were not going to question it because if you did it would give you a headache.

“I hear my Wanda has inconvenienced you and your team.” Erik spoke diplomatically.

You fought the scoff, keeping the pleasant mask on. “Just a tad.”

“I do apologise, I'll speak with her.” The tempo was faster with this song so he spun you out and back in.

“Thanks..?” You were confused. Why had he brought you to the centre? Why was he dancing with you? And why were your friends watching you with bated breath? Did they know something you didn't?!

Erik nodded but didn't speak, merely leading the dance. You wish you knew the name of this one, it was a fast waltz?

“Okay, why are we dancing?” You blurted out.

“Well, I couldn't ask Chuck could I?” He sassed, bringing your hips closer to his and he walked you backwards.

“Would you like to ask him?” He gave you a suspicious glare. “Couldn't your kid make his legs work?”

Erik considered that. “Possibly, but I won't ask.”

You let that settle, trying to catch Charles’ eyes. ‘READ MY MIND. READ HIS MIND. WHAT IS HAPPENING CHARLES?’

‘I wouldn't do that if I were you.’ Wanda’s voice taunted.

You accused. “Your daughter’s spying on us.”

He looked over and quirked his head. “Is she? Which one?”

“Wanda.” You grumbled. “Who's the mother?” You would've bet money that Erik and Charles were messy exs. Yeah, he could be bi but you had always assumed...

“Natalya was the twins' mother. Suzanne was Lorna's.”

You repeated the word: “Was.”

“What else happens to us mutants but humans?” He gave you an aloof shrug. “To get to me they were murdered.”

What do you say to that? Was he planning something? He couldn't show Charles up like that. The two had history, yeah, but you knew Erik. You'd worked with him. He was brash and angry but when something like this was happening, something important, he played the game. He let it unfold.

Then again… the two of you were still dancing surrounded by humans, in the centre of Charles' fundraiser. Perhaps this wasn't an innocent chat.

Maybe he wanted you to fuck up.

If anyone would, it was you.

“What's happening Erik? Why are we dancing?” You repeated, slightly defeated.

“I wanted to talk to you, away from your guard dog.” Your eyes found Logan again. He was still frowning animatedly at the two of you. Jean was at his side trying to talk to him but it was no use.

You met Erik's gaze again. “Go on then.”

“Your powers-” A sarcastic laugh escaped you. “Your original powers are wasted. You have the potential to control your own energy. I don't think you quite grasp how powerful one could be.”

You were confused. “They're force fields.”

“They could be more.” He twirled the two of you, just narrowly avoiding another couple. “Try to build something other than a bubble.”

“Gee, I'd love to.”

He wasn't phased by your sarcasm. “What power do you currently possess, then?”

“Logan's.” You tightened your grip on his hand.

“And your animal?”

“He's our rogue.” There was nothing to lose telling Erik, his daughter would tell him if you didn't.

“And that firecracker? Where is she?” His brows met in genuine curiosity.

“That man over by Charles is Hank McCoy. Rogue happens to have hi-”

Magneto burst out laughing, faltering in his expert steps, hundreds of eyes flew to you both as the music had begun quieting down. “I would pay to see that.”

You roll your eyes, still in his hold.

“I'll get your powers fixed and I want you to consider my words. Consider joining us in Genosha.”

He knew you wouldn't. Why would he even ask?

What had given him the impression that you would?

Copying the couples around you, the two of you bowed at eachother.

\\

Storm opened the door to her garden and you were swamped in heat.

From the floor to the ceiling there was greenery, an array of floral arrangements and confusing smells.

She led you to a small wooden table where there were little sproutlings. “These are the newest, Hank and I have been trying to genetically modify plants.”

“Why?” The question was genuine.

“To release more oxygen, to get better herbal remedies. Aspirin came for a willow tree, think of what else we could do. The illnesses we could help.”

She was so inherently good. A prime example of a caregiver. That's why she and T’Challa were an exceptional couple. They helped so many people in your world. Mutant and Human alike.

“Do-” Should you ask? Was it allowed? “Do you know T’Challa?”

Her eyes betrayed nothing. “I do know him, we've met briefly.”

“Oh.”

Met briefly?

They weren't a couple?

Storm wasn't a queen?

“Why's that?”

No, you really shouldn't have asked. Committing rookie mistake after rookie mistake. You couldn't tell her in case she sought out or avoided her life.

“No reason.” Your head shook and you took a step back, making a hasty exit. “I'm going to go, I’ll see you around.”

//

You were laying on the grass again. It had been a fucking terrible day.

You hadn't been able to save them.

Your fields hadn't stretched fast enough. Fifty students were dead. And the remainder had taken Erik up on his offer and joined Genosha.

All because you thought it would be fun to go on a school trip.

You should've known better.

Should've known despite the galas and love when you saved the day, the humans wouldn't accept you.

At least the Sentinels made it quick.

“Y/N.” Logan spoke next to you, he was sitting. When did he get there? “It isn't your fault baby.”

Those words caused your tears to reappear, face contorting in sorrow.

“Come here.” He pulled you upwards and into his lap, stroking your hair.

He and Scott had taken the Sentinels out whilst you failed at your one job.

“It isn't your fault.” He spoke slower. “You are not to blame.”

“Bu-but I couldn't.” You hiccuped. “They're dead.”

“You saved more than I could've.” He smoothed your hair. “I'm serious, what could my claws do? Your fields saved people.”

You let him shush and run his fingers through your hair. You didn't deserve this but loved him. Loved that he still cared. He didn't push you to the side because of what happened.

The two of you just sat there, you nestled in-between his legs, your temple on his collar.

“I wanna ask you something.”

You tensed up. Here it comes. Just rip the bandaid off, just break up quick please.

“Will you-” He chuckled. “Calm down.” Placing a kiss on your forehead, you relaxed slightly. “Y/N, I want you to be my wife.”

That was nowhere near what you had thought he wanted to say. You pulled back to stare at his face. “What?”

“Be my bride?” His eyes crinkled as he smiled sweetly down at you. “I wanted to wait, to take you out, spoil you but today proved we might not have a tomorrow. Showed me I should just ask.”

You had no words.

Hell yeah, you wanted to be his wife!

But you'd killed people.

You weren't worth the loving gaze he was giving you.

You couldn't. Shouldn't.

“Y/N. Talk to me, what's happening?”

He knew you too well.

When you had your hysterectomy you'd vowed to be honest with him. That you'd get through anything together. “I don't deserve your love.”

Logan let out a scoff that turned into a disbelieving laugh. “Yes. Yes, you do. I'm the one that doesn't deserve yours.” He wiped your fresh tears and kissed your nose. “I've done horrible things but being with you-I love you so much. You make me better."

You sunk back into him. What he had done didn't matter. You didn't care. He was Logan. And you were Y/N. It was always Logan and Y/N. You two vs the world.

Maybe he felt the way you did.

He didn't care that you made mistakes, like you didn't care he had.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Yeah. Let's get married.”

Logan grinned maniacally and kissed you. His thumbs wiped your tears as he deepened the kiss.

It was wet and you both were both still fairly shellshocked but it was perfect.

Logan produced a small box - black velvet - and you knew what would be in there. “Had this a while.” He opened the box and placed the ring on your finger.

It was a simple band with a small diamond. A man of practicality, if you were to wear this daily it couldn't be too flashy, not when you suited up as an X-Man.

@littlecrowtime @geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @br3nt-12 @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @catiwinky @ravenmedows @electricreader @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany @4ria790 @caramelatae @mei-simp @slightlymediocree @h0n3y-l3m0n05

“It's beautiful.” You admired your hand in his. He kissed your temple again and pulled you in tighter.

.

.

Part 15

[arillusionist]

grishaverse dashboard simulator

🤯 conspiracy-theories follow

theory: the sun summoner is definitely still alive. all we know is that she “gave up her life to save ravka” but how? have YOU ever heard of a grisha dying from using their powers?? it just doesnt make sense.

🌝  ruinsruiners follow

Bitch shes a SAINT. All saints die. Move on lmao

🐺 awooga10384 follow

alina was different and u know it just bc she was a “saint” doesnt mean she had to die op is right and ur being an asshole get off their post

☀️ starkovers follow

not you calling her alina like you know her personally… put some respect on her name bruh

🐺 awooga10384 follow

wait til u find out not everyone is religious and ravkan and doesnt use sankta labels n shit

☀️ starkovers follow

the way i literally never even mentioned religion… the lack of reading comprehension on this site is insane

3,377 notes

⛴️ wraithupdates follow

Friendly reminder to DNI if you think the Wraith and D*rtyh*nds are together! We do not welcome you guys on this blog :)

61 notes

🌤️ saintlydays follow

drew some fanart of sankta anastasia i hope you guys like it!! i drew her with a bleeding eye because shes the saint of sickness and when my mom was sick her eye started bleeding for like 2 days straight lol but i prayed to sankta anastasia and she made my mom get better even though her eye is permanently damaged and my sister and dad could not recover and they passed away after like 5 days of pain (we stabbed them to put them out of their misery)

#sankta anastasia #saint anastasia #saint #sankta #saints fanart #sankta fanart #sankta anastasia fanart #saint anastasia fanart

3 notes

🍺 giddyuphorsey follow

tired of yall stereotyping kerch as a dark and gloomy place… not all of us live in ketterdam or in the north in general. its extremely offensive to us so please fucking stop.

💎 ravkasbeauty follow

womp womp

4,018 notes

❓ grishapolls follow

🔥inferni-heart follow

Sturmhond is a privateer…

🧟‍♀ razorskull follow

who gaf

🔥inferni-heart follow

Shut up you dirty kerch ketterdam gang member money worshipping heathen 

🧟‍♀ razorskull follow

it was never that deep but okay..

201 notes

🦴 shadowsandbones follow

not trying to b racist or anything but why do grisha always act like they’re better than anyone else… and why doesnt anyone ever call them out…

1,121 notes

🦐 merchingaway follow

JUST FOUND OUT THAT WYLAN VAN ECK’S BOYFRIEND IS DIRTYHAND’S EX LMFAO WHATTTT

🫠 theseventhsoldier follow

guys im shu can someone please tell me that dirtyhands is not what i think it means… i keep seeing that name all over this app and im so confused

🦐 merchingaway follow

trust me its not but based on this new info…

981 notes

💣 boomboomboom follow

JUST TRIED A ZEMINI PIE FOR THE FIRST TIME MY LIFE IS FINALLY COMPLETE 💞💞💞💞💞💞

17 notes

🪴 green-skies follow

Funny how people keep hating on Kerch when Fjerda is RIGHT THEREE

💎 ravkasbeauty follow

as a heartrender whos grisha mom got captured by a fjerdan ship: womp womp

🧙🏾‍♀️ zowaaaa follow

also op is kaelish so like… why tf are they talking lmao

💎 ravkasbeauty follow

right!! also fjerdans are barely on the internet (too many grisha here for them lmao) so its not really funny bc they cant see it

☀️ starkovers follow

kerch on the other hand… most chronically online mfs i’ve ever seen

12,347 notes

[svnoohe4rts]

BEST FRIENDS ! ― sim jaeyun

↳ pairing: inexperienced!jake x fembodied!reader

↳ summary: jake is desperate to lose his virginity, and since you’re his best friend, you agree to help him out.

↳ word count: 4,6k

↳ a/n: hihi !! i decided i’d repost one of my old fics since it never showed up in the tags,, i’ve changed some things, but other than that it’s the exact same fic :’) let’s hope it shows up in the tags this time </3

i’ve also decided this will be the last fic i post before i go on a small hiatus for a while . there’s a lot of things going on right now & i simply don’t have the time to be active, hence why i feel like going on a small hiatus seems necessary. i won’t be back until after new years, so happy christmas & happy new years ! thank u all so much for this amazing year & for all the incredible feedback i’ve gotten, i can’t wait to see what next year has in store for this blog :’) i love each & every one of u, until next time <3 all feedback is appreciated ! <3

i won’t be deleting the original post for this fic, u can find it here !

↳ warnings: SMUT ! MDNI . | mentions porn, protected sex let me know if there’s anything else i should add !

JAKE KNOWS HE SHOULDN’T.

Hell, he knows god damn well he shouldn’t even consider it; but the urge to lose his virginity was stronger than his sense of morality at this point. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all, right?

Jake was a simple man. He jerked off whenever he felt the need to, only watching porn if he felt like his imagination wasn’t enough to satisfy his urges. Jake had kissed at least three girls in total during his twenty years on planet earth, including the one he kissed back at the playground in middle school; it was his first kiss, after all, why wouldn’t he count that one?

It had never gone past kissing though. The most intimate thing he had done was probably grabbing a girl's ass while awkwardly making out at a party and the next most intimate thing he had ever experienced was probably the time a girl's hand accidentally brushed against his crotch. Not that he complained though.

He was content with his right hand, it certainly got the job done and he knew exactly how to give himself the best possible experience; so what was there to possibly complain about? Well, Jake decided to put the blame on Heeseung for that one.

If Heeseung had never walked into the room with the biggest smile Jake had ever seen on his lips back when they were 16, Jake would’ve never found himself in this situation. If Heeseung just hadn’t decided to brag about how he lost his virginity to his prom date the night before, Jake certainly never would’ve questioned his right hand and its ability to satisfy him. But of course, Heeseung just had to tell him all about how amazing it was and that he would never ever jack off ever again because nothing could ever even compare to the feeling he had just experienced, as Heeseung himself had claimed. He became a changed man, he said, and there was no way he’d ever go back to just using his right hand. 

So in a way, Heeseung was definitely the cause of 16-year-old Jake's misery.

Then Jay lost his virginity the following summer. He also claimed he’d never ever go back to jerking off, going into great detail about how he had lost his virginity with the slightly older girl next door while mowing her father's lawn; sneaking into the shed while her father was sitting by the pool, reading the daily newspaper. Jake refused to jerk off that night, staring at the ceiling as he questioned what was so great about sex and why his right hand suddenly couldn’t even compare to a feeling he had never experienced for himself.

No matter how angry and confused Jake was, he found comfort in knowing one thing. It didn’t matter if both Heeseung and Jay had lost their beloved V card, because he still had Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon was also a virgin and Jake was sure about one thing and one thing only; he was most definitely going to lose his virginity before his introverted friend did.

As senior year of high school rolled around, both Jake and Sunghoon were still virgins; which Jake found great comfort in. Knowing he wasn’t the only one in his friend group who was still a virgin comforted him, knowing he wasn’t alone in his misery; knowing he wasn’t the only one who had yet to get his dick wet.

Until one day, Sunghoon showed up at school with the same forsaken smile that both Heeseung and Jay had worn and Jake knew he was doomed the second he spotted his friend’s smile. He didn’t even have to listen to his friend talking about how it happened, the feeling of defeat had already settled in by the time Sunghoon had even said hi.

So moral of the story, if Heeseung never decided it would be a good idea to make Jake question his whole existence back when he was 16, Jake wouldn’t be in this situation.

And that certain situation being him about to ask you, his best friend of many years, to take his virginity. 

‘’Earth to Jake,’’ Your hand waving in front of his eyes snapped him out of his thoughts, slightly jumping in surprise by your sudden action. Jake looked up at you, a chuckle trailing off your lips as you plopped down beside him. ‘’What’s on your mind?’’

He had known you almost his whole life, you had been the one to force him into kissing that one girl at the playground back in middle school after all; no matter how much he whined and refused you were the one who pushed him in front of the swings and cheered him on as he shyly pecked the other girl's lips. You had also been the one to comfort him after the girl ran off, crying about how she didn’t even want to kiss him in the first place; a moment that probably severely bruised Jake's ego for the rest of his life.

He had never even thought of you as anything other than his best friend, the thought of having sex with you never even crossed his mind before. The thought made him cringe, his stomach turning inside out at the thought of ever seeing you naked, almost gagging that one time his dear friend talked about how cute you were and he most definitely would take the opportunity if ever given to him.

And at 19 years old, Jake once again blamed Heeseung for his misery. If Heeseung had never said those words, the thought would never have crossed his mind and he wouldn’t be sitting in your bed rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. But thanks to Heeseung and his inability to keep his thoughts to himself, Jake came to the realization that you were probably his best bet at losing his virginity at this point.

But how on earth was he supposed to tell you that without embarrassing himself, possibly scaring your friendship for life? Jake just frowned, shaking his head as he continued to rub his palms against the fabric of his jeans; desperately trying to hide the fact that he was absolutely shitting himself. You cocked an eyebrow, your eyes darting over to his now very obviously sweaty hands. ‘’Is there anything wrong, Jake?’’

‘’No,’’ Yes, there was something very, very wrong. ‘’I mean, not really. I don’t want to talk about it.’’ 

He wasn’t lying, Jake most certainly did not want to talk about what was on his mind. You, on the other hand, were obvious to the fact that your friend was very obviously distressed about something and wasn’t going to let it slide that easily. ‘’C’mon, you can tell me anything.’’

Hey, Y/N, wanna take my virginity? No, he simply could not tell you everything.

 Jake glared at you for a moment, a sigh escaping his lips as he realized you weren’t going to give up until he actually told you what was on his mind. He threw his head back in annoyance, staring at the ceiling as he accepted his fate. He was going to make an absolute fool out of himself, but at least it was with you, the one person who would never make fun of him, right? 

‘’Promise me you won't make fun of me?’’ He mumbled, refusing to look at you as he mentally prepared himself for embarrassment. You only nodded in response, furrowing both your eyebrows; growing slightly worried by your friend's behavior. ‘’You’re acting like something horrible happened, what's up?’’ You asked, your eyes glued to the boy sitting beside you.

Well, something horrible did happen. At least in Jake’s world, this was the most horrifying thing that could possibly ever happen. Jake kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, taking a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut. ‘’Can you take my virginity?’’

Complete silence fell over the room. Jake kept his eyes shut, too scared to ever open them again; the silence only made him feel even more anxious. At this point, Jake wasn’t even breathing, regretting all his life choices leading up to this very moment, wanting to sink through the ground and simply disappear. It wasn’t until he suddenly heard a loud snort coming from beside him he dared opened his eyes, snapping his head towards you.

The sight in front of him only made him want to disappear from the face of the earth even more. You had one of your hands placed over your mouth, trying your best to suppress your laughter but failed miserably, breaking out into laughter. Jake just stared at you, a frown on his face. ‘’I said don’t make fun of me!’’ Jake groaned, burying his face in both his hands in an attempt to hide his red cheeks as you continued laughing. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ You laughed, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at this point as you tried controlling your laughter.

‘’Fuck off,’’ Jake mumbled into his hands, his ears turning red from embarrassment. ‘’Just forget I ever said anything.’’ He continued as you wiped the tears that had spilled down your cheeks away, small chuckles still leaving your lips. Another silence fell over the room, the only noise being heard was Jake’s breathing into his hands as he thought about how he was supposed to ever recover from the amount of embarrassment he had just experienced. 

‘’I mean, why not?’’ Your voice suddenly broke the silence, causing Jake to peek through his fingers; his eyes landing on you. ‘’What?’’ He let out, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together as he kept his eyes glued on you. You shrugged in response, looking over at the boy. ‘’You’re my best friend after all, so I don’t see why I wouldn’t help you out.’’

Jake took his hands off his face, his eyes wide as he stared at you in shock.  Now that you had said yes, he had no idea what to do or how to act. He had fully prepared himself for you saying no, but yes? He hadn’t even considered the fact that you might’ve said yes. 

‘’What?’’ He stuttered, causing another chuckle to trail off your lips. ‘’Why are you acting so surprised? You were the one who asked me stupid,’’ You chuckled, Jake's lips parting in surprise. ‘’I mean, I know, but I just,’’ He mumbled, stumbling over his own words as he spoke. ‘’I just didn’t expect you to say yes, alright?’’ He let out, trying to figure out if you were just playing with him or if you were actually being serious.

But by the way you simply just shrugged and by the lack of a playful look on your face, he realized you were actually serious. Oh god, you were actually serious about taking his virginity. ‘’Are you actually serious?’’ He asked once more, letting his hands fall into his lap as he continued looking for any signs that indicated that you were in fact playing a prank on him. You nodded in response, a small smile forming on your lips. ‘’I think it’s better you lose it with me so you don’t have to embarrass yourself when you actually hook up with someone.’’

Jake parted his lips, getting ready to defend himself but quickly realized there was no point in arguing; because you were right. 

He had no clue how to possibly make his first time enjoyable for the other person, hell, he didn’t even know how to make it enjoyable for himself. He was completely clueless, except for all the things his friends told him and the things he had seen in porn, and the things he had pictured in his mind of course; but he knew the things he pictured in his mind were way different from the real thing.

Maybe losing his virginity to you wasn’t as bad after all. Unlike him, you weren’t a virgin and Jake could guarantee you knew way more than he did; plus you were one of his best friends, so what could possibly go wrong? ‘’So, like, when do we do it?’’ Jake stuttered, looking over at you once again. Another chuckle emerged from your throat, moving closer to the boy sitting beside you; Jake's eyes following your every move. ‘’Jake, it’s not an appointment, we don’t need to set a date you know,’’ You joked, but Jake only stared at you with wide eyes.

As you moved closer and Jake could now feel your thigh touching his, he came to the realization that losing his virginity to you was in fact a very bad idea. He had been close to you many times before, it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to get psychical with each other. Holding hands, hugging, and even cuddling while watching a scary movie; it usually wasn’t weird at all. But as your thigh touched his, while talking about you taking his virginity, it felt extremely weird. It felt more than just weird, it felt horrifying. ‘’But how am I supposed to know when if we don’t plan it?’’ He let out, his eyes glued to your thigh; suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that you only kept moving closer.

‘’Jake?’’ You let out, causing him to look up at you; his eyes still wide as he noticed how incredibly close your face now was to his. ‘’Yeah?’’ He breathed, not knowing where to look without his eyes landing on your glossy lips. ‘’Can I kiss you?’’

At that moment, he fully panicked and he was sure it showed by the way his whole body froze; he had never been asked that question before and he certainly did not expect you to be the first person ever to ask him that. He stared at you, your eyes darting between his eyes and lips, waiting for his response. Jake placed his bottom lip between his teeth, nervously nibbling on it; he had gone way too far to say no. ‘’Yes.’’

Before he could even prepare himself, he felt your lips press against his. As he felt your lips press against his own, he suddenly regretted everything. He regretted ever even bringing up the topic, he regretted ever even considering it; why the hell would he ever even want to lose his virginity to his best friend? ‘’Relax, okay?’’ You suddenly murmured, causing Jake to snap back to reality; realizing he hadn’t even kissed you back. 

Fuck it, if he was actually going to lose his virginity, he might as well make the most of it.

So he nodded, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips against yours once again. Your lips felt soft against his, your strawberry lipgloss transferring onto his own; feeling himself slightly relax as you placed one of your hands on the nape of his neck. The kiss was soft and as much as Jake hated to admit it, he was actually enjoying it. With his eyes closed, he didn’t have to face reality; that it was, in fact, his best friend he was kissing.

That was until he felt you shift beside him, your lips still attached to his; suddenly feeling your weight being placed on top of him. He quickly opened his eyes only to see you sitting on top of him, straddling his lap. You must’ve noticed the way he immediately tensed up again, his eyes scanning your figure as a chuckle left your lips. ‘’Don’t think too much about it, okay?’’ You let out, placing your hands on the back of his neck; your eyes meeting.

How was he supposed to not think too much? It wasn’t like it was the first time you sat on his lap like this, but this time was different; this time was very very different compared to your usual play fights where you sometimes ended up on his lap. Jake doesn’t remember you kissing him in those playfights, but that was exactly what was happening right now. He only nodded in response, gulping as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his once again.

Jake once again fluttered his eyes close, trying to focus on your lips moving against his instead of the fact that you were straddling his lips; accidentally grinding against this crotch every now and then. He suddenly felt you grab both his hands, placing them on your hips before returning your hands to the back of his neck. Jake quickly caught on as he slipped his hands under your shirt, your warm skin greeting his cold hands. You hummed in response, causing Jake to relax further into the kiss as he realized he had done something right by slipping his hands under your shirt.

The deeper the kiss got, the more Jake started to believe that maybe this wasn’t as bad of an idea as he had originally thought. The taste of your strawberry lipgloss was now slowly making him want more, his tongue slipping into your mouth; the small moan leaving your lips taking him by surprise. He felt a small smirk forming on his lips as he ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling you slightly tug at his hair; the kiss getting more and more desperate.

‘’You’re not a bad kisser you know,’’ You mumbled into the kiss, causing a shade of red to spread across Jake's cheeks; keeping his lips attached to yours in an attempt to hide his now red cheeks. His hands slowly made their way down your sides, creeping closer and closer to your ass before gently grabbing it; a groan leaving his throat. As he kneaded your ass through your pants, he couldn’t help but press his crotch against your clothed core; now getting slightly impatient. But as your lips left his and your eyes met, he suddenly became nervous; had he done something wrong? Was he moving too fast?

‘’Do you want to take my shirt off?’’ Your words made his now semi-hard cock twitch, beginning for any type of attention as he quickly nodded in relief. You smiled at him as you guided his hands towards the hem of your shirt, watching as he slowly pulled your shirt over your head; revealing your chest. He stared at your chest with wide eyes, the only thing hiding your breasts being your bra; trying his best not to let out a groan. ‘’You can take it off.’’ You let out, causing Jake’s hands to immediately start fiddling with the clasps at the back of your bra.

After a few moments of Jake struggling, insisting that he could do it; your bra slowly slid off your body. Jake couldn’t help but stare at your bare chest, his cock growing harder at the sight of your hard nipples. He had seen you in bikinis multiple times, but something felt different this time; he simply couldn’t tear his eyes off you. ‘’Can I touch them?’’ He managed to get out, his eyes meeting yours. ‘’You don’t have to ask Jake, do whatever you feel comfortable doing.’’ You let out softly, causing Jake to immediately place one of his hands on top of one of your breasts; attaching his lips to one of your nipples.

A loud gasp left your mouth as he swirled his tongue around your hard nipple, his other hand finding its way to your other breast. It was no secret that Jake knew how to use his tongue even though he had never actually done it judging by the way he constantly had his tongue out, you’d be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him and his tongue at least once. But his tongue playing with your nipple while his other hand pinched and massaged your other breast felt way better than you could’ve ever imagined, throwing your head back as a whimper left your lips.

That whimper went straight to Jake's now hard cock, feeling it twitch against one of your thighs. He kept his lips attached to your nipple, his other hand massaging your other boob as he looked up at you. The sight in front of him made him feel like he was about to cum right there and then, feeling the precum leaking from his tip stick to the fabric of his now very tight boxers. You slowly started rocking your hips against this hard-on, a groan leaving his throat as he pressed rough kisses all over your chest, his hands still playing with your nipples.

You quickly brought your hand to his hair, pulling him into another kiss; this time a much rougher kiss. It was extremely messy and needy, his fingers digging into the skin of your sides as he desperately dragged your lower body against this crotch; desperate for any type of friction. ‘’Can I suck you off?’’ You mumbled into the kiss, causing Jake to pull away.

Now, normally Jake would’ve screamed yes. Getting head was on top of his list, all his friends talked about receiving head like it was the best thing ever; even better than actually fucking. But right there and then, Jake wanted nothing more than to feel you around him, causing him to shake his head. 

‘’I want to fuck you Y/N,’’ He breathed, still lightly guiding your lower body back and forth. ‘’Please?’’ He let out, his eyes meeting yours. You only replied by smashing your lips against his once again, pulling him down so he was now hovering above you.

You quickly undid his belt, your lips still attached; hungrily moving against one another before he pulled away; only to pull his shirt over his head, his full upper body on display. You stared at him for a moment, admiring his body before his lips met yours once again. He helped you pull his pants down completely, your hand coming in contact with the outline of his fully hard cock; a gasp leaving your lips. Jake couldn’t help but let out a groan as your hand finally wrapped around the outline of his cock, dipping his head between the space where your neck and shoulder meet.

With your hand wrapped around his cock, he realized why his friends claimed they’d never jerk off ever again. Your hand felt completely different compared to his right hand, a feeling he wanted to experience again and again; never wanting his own right hand to come near his cock ever again. 

He immediately began fiddling with the button of your pants, not wanting to wait any longer; afraid he’d cum right there and then if he didn’t get to fuck you within the next 30 seconds. Your hand left his cock, a whine almost leaving his throat as you helped him get your own pants off; one of his hands finding its way down your underwear the second your pants slid down your legs.

‘’Fuck,’’ He mumbled into the pillow as he felt the sticky fabric against his fingers, hooking one of his fingers under your underwear before slowly sliding them down your legs. He propped himself up using one of his arms, looking down at your glistening core; another groan leaving his lips. ‘’Can you please fuck me now?’’ Your whine made him look up at you, his eyes wide; filled with anticipation. 

You looked beautiful. Jake always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you laying underneath him with lust-filled eyes, you looked ten times more beautiful to him. 

He only nodded in response as he pulled his underwear down, his cock hitting his abdomen; his tip red and leaking precum, still begging for attention. ‘’Do you have condoms?’’ You asked, your eyes meeting his; realizing you probably don’t have any laying around. A small smile formed on his lips as he grabbed his pants, searching through his pockets. ‘’Of course I do, you never know when you might lose your virginity.’’ He smiled as he pulled out a condom, causing you to roll your eyes as he ripped the package open.

Jake suddenly became nervous as he lined his cock against your entrance, his eyes meeting yours once again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a small smile; noticing the worry in his eyes. ‘’Take your time, okay? Do what feels good for you,’’ You reassured him, causing Jake to nod in reply once again; rubbing his tip against your entrance, collecting your arousal.

The second Jake pushed his tip inside of you, he realized what his friends had been talking about all this time. He let out a deep breath as he felt your wet walls clench around him, burying his head in the pillow beside you once again as he tried to keep himself together. The feeling of your tight walls pulsating around him felt nothing like he had imagined, it felt so much better; way better than your hand had felt.

A small moan left your lips as he pushed his cock all the way in, grabbing onto his shoulders as you parted your lips. ‘’You’re so big,’’ You whimpered into his ear, causing Jake to let out a groan. ‘’I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that,’’ He mumbled, pressing a small kiss onto your neck.

After staying still for a minute, getting used to the feeling and collecting himself, he slowly began pulling out. Your walls dragging along his hard cock, coating him in your arousal felt like nothing he had ever experienced before; his friend's endless bragging suddenly making so much sense. He thrusted into you once again, another moan leaving your lips; causing Jake to repeat his actions.

His thrusts were awkward at first, trying to figure a pace that worked for him without him immediately being close to his release; but soon enough, he found a pace that worked for him and it certainly seemed to be working for you as well. 

‘’Fuck, Jake,’’ You moaned, throwing your head onto the pillow beside you as he kept thrusting into you, grunts leaving his lips, his lips occasionally pressing wet kisses against the skin of your shoulder. ‘’Feels so good,’’ He grunted against your skin, his thrusts becoming even harsher. ‘’You’re doing so good,’’ You whimpered, the familiar feeling of warmth building up inside of Jake’s stomach.

Your words only made Jake thrust into you harder, causing even louder moans to leave your lips as his speed increased. You could tell he was close to his release by the way his thrusts were becoming sloppier, grunts spilling from his lips. 

It didn’t come as a surprise to either you or Jake that he was already on the verge of reaching his orgasm. You didn’t even mind the fact that you probably wouldn’t get to cum, the pretty sounds leaving his lips were more than enough for you.

‘’I’m gonna cum,’’ He suddenly let out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him. ‘’Cum for me,’’ You mumbled into his ear, a final groan leaving his lips as he spilled his seed into the condom wrapped around his cock. Loud moans left his throat as he continued sloppily thrusting into you; riding out his own orgasm.

Heavy breathing filled the room as he rolled over, collapsing next to you; sweat dripping down his forehead. You turned around, looking over at the exhausted boy beside you; pieces of hair sticking to his forehead. He looked over at you, a small smile forming on his lips. You ran your hand through his hair, pushing the pieces of hair that had fallen onto his forehead away; a small forming on your lips as well. 

‘’Did I do well?’’ He let out after a moment, still panting, not taking his eyes off you. You nodded in response, moving closer to him. ‘’You did really well.’’ You mumbled as you placed your head on his chest, feeling one of his arms wrap around your waist. ‘’I guess I’m no longer a virgin,’’ He chuckled, causing you to chuckle as well. ‘’Not even a thank you?’’ You let out, your eyes meeting his.

‘’You’re the best, thank you.’’ He smiled, a small smile forming on your lips; wrapping an arm around his torso. ‘’I’m your best friend after all.’’

‘’Maybe you can give me head next time, since you’re my best friend?’’