#especially because I worked on two stories that I’ve been stuck with for a while. it was soooo nice to have inspiration for those again

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Dang.

Resurrection day and cc!Tommy’s birthday and a good writing day and getting to spend time with baby cousins?? All on the same day???

[healmydesires]

cross that line ꕤ (l.h)

part two

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.

genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!

a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.

Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.

You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.

Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.

It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.

Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.

Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.

You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.

You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.

As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.

You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.

Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.

That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.

You could say that opposites attract.

Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.

It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.

As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.

You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.

Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.

Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.

As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”

He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.

“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.

Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.

You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.

It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.

You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.

The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.

One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.

You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.

“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”

Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.

He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.

“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”

You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.

For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.

You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.

“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”

You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”

You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.

It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.

For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.

All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.

Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”

A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.

“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”

You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.

Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.

Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”

“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.

But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.

“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.

He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.

For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.

Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.

You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.

“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.

“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.

“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.

You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.

He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.

Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.

“Lo—”

Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.

He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.

You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.

As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”

Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”

You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.

“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.

Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.

Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.

“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.

“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.

You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.

“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.

Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.

When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.

When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.

Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.

You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.

Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.

You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.

You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.

He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.

“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.

At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.

Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.

“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.

“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.

“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.

As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.

“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.

In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”

As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.

You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him. 

But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.

So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.

“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.

You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.

“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”

Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.

“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.

Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”

“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.

He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”

“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.

“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”

“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”

Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”

His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.

“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”

“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”

Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.

As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.

Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”

You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly. 

“Really?” He’d smile down at you. 

“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.

You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.

“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.

“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.

“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours. 

There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.

His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.

As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.

How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.

You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.

“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.

All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.

Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.

You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.

One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.

You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.

You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.

You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.

Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.

He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.

You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.

Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.

Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.

His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.

You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.

Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.

“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”

You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties. 

“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin. 

You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”

Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.

His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”

“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.

The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.

As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently. 

You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment. 

He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.

You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.

He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.

His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.

He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”

Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.

“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.

“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties. 

As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.

He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.

Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.

Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”

A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.

Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.

His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.

“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.

You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.

You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.

He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.

You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”

“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”

You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.

The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble. 

Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.

You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel. 

Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.

“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.

Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.

Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.

“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress. 

Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.

You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.

The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.

Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.

“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”

He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”

You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.” 

“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers. 

“That’s my girl.”

Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.

As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.

“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.

Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips. 

“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”

The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.

“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit. 

Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.

Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.

“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”

“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.

“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. 

Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.

“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.

You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.

He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.

You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.

“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.

You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”

“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”

“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.

“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.

“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.

“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.

“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”

Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”

“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”

Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.

“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.

Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.

“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.

Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.

Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss. 

The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together. 

It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other. 

You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.

You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.

“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move. 

Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.

“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.

“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps. 

At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.

You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.

His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.

“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.

Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.

“So full…” you whined.

“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.

You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.

He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock. 

His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.

His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You needed more. 

You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.

“Need more.” You whispered.

“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.

“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly. 

The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.

Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.

“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.

“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.

You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.

Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy. 

“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.

Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.

At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.

“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”

His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.

Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.

“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”

His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.

“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”

“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”

You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”

“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”

He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum pretty girl?”

You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.

“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.

And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.

“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”

You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop. 

His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.

It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.

“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.

“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth. 

You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner. 

“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.

“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.

“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.

Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.

Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.

He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted. 

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.

thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned. 

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot. 

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him. 

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season. 

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?” 

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over. 

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were. 

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed. 

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered. 

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile. 

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised. 

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.  

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.   

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.   

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.  

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–” 

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly. 

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?” 

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back. 

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open. 

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds. 

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head. 

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners.. 

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.  

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back. 

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.  

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.  

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison. 

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said. 

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.” 

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna. 

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled. 

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp. 

Well fuck me, you thought. 

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin. 

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler. 

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag. 

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned. 

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy. 

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him. 

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation. 

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him. 

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor. 

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

… 

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did. 

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go. 

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside. 

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses. 

“C’mon!” you screamed. 

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled. 

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately. 

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won. 

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way. 

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!” 

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up. 

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did. 

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again. 

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next? 

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake. 

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath. 

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress. 

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.   

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed. 

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything. 

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin. 

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble. 

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry. 

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart. 

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.  

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort. 

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could. 

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest. 

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night. 

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not. 

“Was I screaming?” 

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself. 

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth. 

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised. 

“What?” you asked. 

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.” 

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.  

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly. 

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.” 

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise. 

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.” 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded. 

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either. 

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely. 

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you. 

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you. 

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it? 

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.” 

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.” 

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed. 

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later. 

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it. 

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased. 

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked. 

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

[writerwrabbleswords]

The worst | [Worst] Wolverine/Logan X [Male Iron Man variant] Reader

Logan hates the void, but he hates it a little less after he meets a bearable Tony Stark - except you aren't exactly a Tony Stark he recognizes.

Quick Notes : I haven't actually written for Logan before, but I'm obsessed after Deadpool and Wolverine so... Here we go. I might write a part two, but I'm not sure yet.

Story Details : Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers, Reader is male but referred to with 'You/Your' pronouns, about 800 or so words, light angst, Logan drinking (obviously), cliffhanger ending.

  Logan disliked the void; he disliked it nearly as much as he disliked Wade, which was a lot. Through the entire thing - the fight in the damn honda odyssey, getting the hell away from Cassandra, even getting brought to the resistance hideout - the only thing he wanted to do was down a few bottles of booze and crash for the night. The conversation he’d had with Laura made him feel… odd. It was hard to explain, and Logan wasn’t exactly known for being ‘in touch’ with his feelings. Hell, he preferred to drown them in alcohol over talking about them or even feeling them. 

  The mutant was drawn from his thoughts (and the bottle in his hand) when the door to the resistance opened, your form entering the hideout. He felt his nose scrunch - the stranger smelled like rust and metal, an unpleasant combination. You looked up from something in your hand, glancing at Logan before giving a curt nod and moving towards the nearby table. It was then that he caught sight of a slight blue glow just peeking out from overtop your undone top buttons; an arc reactor. Logan grit his teeth, tearing his eyes away as he downed half the bottle - of course he’d have to deal with a damn Tony Stark variant, it couldn’t have been that Wade was awake, it had to be him.

 A grunt from you pulled his attention back towards you, his gaze soon affixing to what was in your hand - or more accurately, on your arm. It was a repulsor gauntlet, probably part of a full suit if he had to guess, with the paint faded and scratched. With only a glance, he had a feeling you’d been here a long while. 

  “You’re the first Wolverine I’ve seen here,”

  Your voice cut through Logans’ thoughts, and he couldn’t help the bitter scoff that left him - of course you’d know who he was. Shaking his head, he approached your spot at the table, taking a seat across from you as he watched. You were fiddling with your repulsor gauntlet, the screwdriver in your hand digging between the metal plates as you scowled. For a brief moment, he locked eyes with you. Huh. It was then that he fully took in your form - really looked - and noticed that you weren’t quite the Tony Stark he was used to; you didn’t even look like a Tony Stark.

  “You gonna’ tell me how you got here, or are you gonna’ keep staring at me while I work?”

  Logan huffed at your question, bringing the bottle of booze to his lips as he regarded you. He didn’t particularly want to talk - especially to a damn Iron Man - but he relented, the alcohol flowing through his system loosening his tongue.

  “The jackass known as Wade got us both stuck here,” you paused at his words, arching a brow as Logan took a swig, “He pulled me from my universe to try and save his.”

  He could tell something about his words had struck a nerve because the moment he mentioned his own universe, you all but glared down at your gauntlet, your movements with the screwdriver less controlled and precise.

  “Least you’ll get a chance to leave,” came your bitter words.

  It was now the mutants’ turn to raise a brow, his eyes watching you - analyzing you - for any sign of what set you off. He looked away, tipping the bottle of alcohol back as the liquor slid down his throat.

  “You been stuck here a while?” Logan found himself asking, surprising both you and himself.

  Even more surprising, you looked up from your gauntlet and nodded, your expression softening as you tossed the screwdriver onto the table and sighed,

  “Been here longer than most. Had the TVA approach me to join the fuckin’ ‘sacred timeline’ or whatever, and when I turned it down - tried to warn the Avengers - they sent me here. I got every one of my mates killed.” Logan frowned, but didn’t interrupt. Even to him, it was clear you didn’t often talk about your past, “Cassandra’s been tryin’ to get me on her side for ages now, but I refuse. I’m a genius, not a fuckin’ lap dog for some deranged bitch.”

  That got a bark of laughter from the mutant, who shook his head in amusement; you had the signature ‘Tony Stark’ cockiness, arrogance might have been a better word, but you seemed more down to earth than the one he’d known of back in his universe. You seemed to have a shadow following you, something hidden to everyone that kept you locket away; it was something he could relate to.

  “You got a name they call you?” Logan asked, taking another swig from his pilfered bottle of alcohol.

  You hummed, returning your focus to your repulsor gauntlet as you picked up the screwdriver once more,   “I’m the worst Iron Man.”

[sarahreesbrennan]

Quick Evil Note

To all my wicked darlings, I have now received rather a lot of messages asking me about the influences of Long Live Evil. And I wish to get messages about LLE and truly appreciate the ones I do get! And I wish to answer them. But answers about influences are tricky.

The book has been out in the US for a little over two weeks, and it’s going so well so far, I couldn’t be more delighted and appreciative about its reception.

But also I’ve been informed (not asked) that two of my characters are obviously somehow both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy of Harry Potter, and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. (Very puzzling as I don’t think these pairings - and one isn’t a pair - have much in common with each other or with mine. Vague hostility against a vaguely academic backdrop for a bit? For the record… in the book everyone is an adult and I don’t even have any academic backdrops to be vaguely hostile in front of…) This hasn’t happened to me in a long time, because I haven’t had an original novel out in a long time due to illness, and it is upsetting to always be discussed differently than writers who didn’t openly link their real names to their fan identity.

I have very different feelings and new appreciation for fandom than I once had. It’s been amazing to see and meet people who have stuck with me for decades. People are generally way more open and affectionate to and within fandom than they once were. Love matters to me a good deal more than hate. But getting death threats in your early 20s for excitedly telling your Internet friends you were going to publish a book does mark the psyche, and so does having your characters dismissed as other people’s characters.

And we can say there is nothing wrong with fanfiction or writing fanfiction and there isn’t! Fanfiction is great and can be genius. Terry Pratchett wrote Jane Austen fanfiction, and didn’t (and shouldn’t) have people saying Captain Wentworth = Captain Vimes. Still, when a TV show is discussed as ‘like fanfiction’ or when Diana Gabaldon said she didn’t like fanfiction and many said ‘YOU write fanfiction’ it isn’t intended in any kind spirit, even when it’s fannish folk saying it. And it’s just generally odd to have everyone call your apple a tomato, and has had professional consequences for me in the past.

However! All the asks I’ve received have been very kind, and I do want to answer them. I do want to talk about my influences because they are manifold and because I actually think it’s important to always talk about influences. I don’t believe stories exist in isolation - we tell tales in a rich tradition, and also a story doesn’t come alive to me all the way until it’s heard or read.

Long Live Evil is a love letter to fandom: it’s chock full of references to many many stories I’ve loved, to fairytales, myths and legend and Internet memes and epic fantasy and meta. My acknowledgements are endless partly for this reason. I do owe a great debt to many portal fantasies and archetypes and musicals and jokes about genre and plays through the ages, though I do think of my characters as themselves and nobody else.

I was frankly tempted to go ‘Yes I stole EVERYTHING! Bwhahaha!’ But while I am thoroughly enjoying and finding great freedom in my villain era, I do want to talk sincerely to you all as well, especially when asked sincerely interested questions.

But I’m a little scared to do so and have people say ‘AHA! Now we know what it’s fanfiction of’ (it’s happened before) or ignore me and go ‘we know the truth!’ (it’s happened before) and to feel like I’ve injured my book. Long Live Evil means more to me than any other and I really want to get talking about it right, and make sure it has the best reception I can give it.

So. Questions on all Evil topics very very welcome but answers to influence questions may come slowly. Bear with me. I am working on this!

[wonustars]

Rain or Shine Cafe (Teaser)

Ⱄ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader Ⱄ wordcount: ~10k or less (this teaser: 2.6k) Ⱄ genre: fluff, cafe coworkers au, suggestive

Ⱄ reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

Ⱄ summary: with no umbrella in hand on a rainy day, you felt like your life couldn’t get any worse. losing your glasses while it’s pouring cats and dogs, well maybe your life really was the worst. thankfully a faceless stranger was there to pick up your glasses and hand you his umbrella. you weren’t able to ever thank him for his act of kindness, but the sweet memory stays with you for awhile. soonyoung was in need of a new job and on the first day of his interview he stumbles across a blind stranger with no umbrella, and no glasses. he didn’t think too much about the stranger then, not until his first day of work at Rain or Shine Cafe.

Ⱄ tags/warnings: cafe coworkers!soonyoung and reader, dancer!soonyoung, reader wears glasses, set in vancouver canada, they develop feelings quickly, reader is a little type a, mentions of other svt members, mentions of alcohol, hoshi tiger agenda is very present (more tags when the actual fic is posted)

Ⱄ note: this is a teaser for my fic for the @svthub world tour collab!! thank you to the admins who are sosoosoooo creative because i love this concept sm!! i hope you all look forward to this fic because i adore their little love story sm ♡. if you want to be tagged when the fic is posted please leave a comment or send me an ask! (ps: teaser is not that edited so sorry in advanced) - see you soonest, anna ♡.

Today was one of those days. The birds don’t sing at your wake, the sun doesn’t shine as bright. You weren’t sure what had been the catalyst to such a terrible day; maybe it was forgetting your umbrella, or losing your glasses under the gloomy sky, or the rain that pitter-pattered against the pavement and mocked your misfortune.

It wasn’t until a faceless stranger entered your blurred field of vision, offering their umbrella and picking up your glasses. Before you could even thank them for their help, they whisked away so quickly it was like they were a figment of your imagination. 

That small kind gesture had stuck with you for days, wondering if you would ever be able to meet them again. You desperately wished you were able to see what they looked like, but from the softness of their voice, to their gentle touch, you had a feeling that their personality is just the same. 

˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛

Working a shift at Rain or Shine Cafe is always the highlight of your day, especially after spending so many hectic hours at your university. The cafe was always serene, the customers were kind, and you liked how calming it would get once the Vancouver rain started to pour in. The droplets hitting the glass windows in a rhythmic pattern that could probably put you to sleep if you allow. 

Rain or shine cafe was like your little safe haven from the busy city and university town. Working the evenings while your boss, Seokmin, would cover the mornings. It definitely was a little bit complicated with only the two of you, but you didn’t mind. You liked being the only person during your shift, it meant that you were practically your own boss. 

It wasn’t until the day that Seokmin decided it was time for a new hire, your safe space seemingly turned upside down. 

“Y/n, I’ve hired a new person, you’ll have to train them okay?” Seokmin informs you the moment you clock in. 

Giving him a defeated sigh, you knew it was time for a new coworker to join you. Although you hate the idea, you felt bad at how hard Seokmin works in the mornings, and on the rare occasions when you’re sick, evenings as well. 

“I don’t know Seokmin… are you sure I should be the one training them?” your tone wavers, if anything the owner would be able to do a better job than you at the training the new hire. 

“What! You’ll do great, you’re my best employee after all,” he gives you a reassuring pat on your shoulder. 

With furrowed brows, your eyes bore holes into his back as he heads back to his office. 

“I’m your only employee!” you shout back while he can still hear you. 

The idea of having to train a new person after spending so much time finding your own rhythm while working at the cafe doesn’t particularly thrill you. With many many prayers to the universe, you just hope they aren’t a pain in the ass to deal with. 

˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛

Soonyoung wasn’t sure what to expect on his first day, and he was especially nervous because he’s never worked at a cafe before. Although his coordination is great when it comes to dancing, he isn’t so confident in his coffee making skills. 

The moment he walked through the door, he saw your face shining against the afternoon sun, his heart beating so fast he thought he might have to go to the doctor for a serious case of heart palpitations. He can’t help but curse at himself silently, knowing that he was going to be extra nervous because of his extremely pretty coworker. 

As he approaches you he starts to feel a sense of familiarity bubbling at the bottom of his stomach. Wondering if he’s seen you around before, but he quickly scratches that idea knowing that there's millions of people living in the Greater Vancouver area. 

Clearing his throat he tries to get your attention as you delicately refill the pastry shelf with almond croissants and bagels. Your eyes turn towards the figure in front of the counter, assuming it’s another student from the university wanting to order. 

“U-uh hi,” Soonyoung blurts out, his pillowy cheeks turning red under your gaze. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?” you ask him, trying to ignore the awkwardness between you two. 

“Oh! I-I’m not here to order, I’m the new hire?” He tries to explain, but you can tell he feels a little unsure about being here at the cafe. 

“Oh. Soonyoung right?” 

“Yeah, that’s me, but uh- you can call me Hoshi,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his head. 

The words ‘play it cool’ keep repeating in his mind as he continues to talk to you, not wanting to make a bad first impression with his gorgeous new coworker. 

“Ah, I see, Hoshi,” you say apprehensively while nodding your head, yeah i’m not calling him that, you think to yourself. 

Seokmin told you that the new hire would be coming in for his first shift today, but he didn’t mention anything other than that. 

From first glance Soonyoung wasn’t the type of person you expected Seokmin to hire. His dark clothing, bright blond hair and piercings along his ears didn’t scream “barista”. The aura around him screamed men’s fashion influencer just from the way he dresses. Although his clothes were casual you could tell there was still thought put into his outfit, from the baggy dark wash jeans to his graphic tee and earrings. 

“How about you come around the counter and clock in so we can get started,” you add as you finish placing the pastries into the display shelf. 

Scratching the back of his head he walks over only to hover behind you, a meek expression washes over his face. 

You turn to him with a quizzical eyebrow, not sure as to why he’s just standing there like a lost child in a supermarket. 

“H-how exactly do you clock in?” Soonyoung mumbles while twiddling his thumbs. 

“Seokmin didn’t show you where to clock in?” You question him. 

There was a part of you that has a feeling that you might have to teach him every little thing around the cafe. When Seokmin told you the new hire was coming in today, you were hoping that they would at least have a little bit of background knowledge. 

“U-uh no he pretty much hired me on the spot and told me to come in today,” he mutters, feeling a little embarrassed by your judgement, “this is actually my first job ever.” 

“Ever?” 

“Yeah, so I’m not sure why he even hired me, but I needed a job so I didn’t turn it down,” he continues, the blush on his soft cheeks becoming more apparent. 

You sigh deeply, this shift is going to feel a lot longer than you initially thought. Knowing it’s his first job means that you’ll have to train him a little slower. As you walk to show him where to clock in you silently pray that he’s a fast learner. 

Soonyoung can tell that you’re not excited to train him, and he feels bad that he doesn’t have the experience to be good at his job right away. But he’s determined to learn quickly, not wanting to disappoint you or Seokmin. 

He spent most of his time in university being able to pay for his expenses from his dance scholarship and the little money he was given from his parents, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough to fund his trip for him and his dance troupe’s upcoming competition. 

They had entered a national competition taking place in Seattle and although the commute is only a two hour road trip, there were so many other fees that he couldn’t afford unless he found a way to earn money. Plus if he wanted to fund both his dance trip and tiger collection, it was either he get a job near his school or he would have to resort to selling feet pics online. But getting a job at the cafe seemed like the safer and more logical option. 

“Well now that you’ve clocked in, this is your apron and the tag that Seokmin made you,” you inform him while handing him his things. 

Soonyoung doesn’t say a word, only nodding while listening to you explain how everything works at the cafe. 

“First we need you to learn all the drinks that we serve,” you explain, pushing the double doors that lead back to the main room of the building. 

“Okay, I can do that, it can’t be that hard right?”  Hoshi shrugs, trying his best to act nonchalant to mask his nervousness. 

…

“Wait-No! That’s wrong,” your voice raises in panic as you watch Soonyoung put a fresh shot of espresso into the plastic to-go cup. 

Freezing, his eyes go wide as his mouth forms an ‘O’ shape as you start to scramble with panic. The plastic starting to shrivel from the heat of the coffee. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know it would melt!” he exclaims, pouring the contents into the sink. 

It had been an hour of teaching Soonyoung how to make the drinks that were on the cafe menu, and he had somehow made a mistake every single step of the way. Thankfully today is a slower day in the cafe, allowing Soonyoung to observe your routine on serving customers. 

“It’s fine, how about we take a break and I'll show you how to use the oven to heat the pastries,” you sigh with defeat. 

Soonyoung’s face drops a little because he knows that he’s disappointed you. He wishes that he was good at his job the same way he is with dancing but his naturally good coordination and reflexes can only take him so far. 

“If a customer asks for a pastry they can have the option for them to be toasted in the oven, you just need to use the tongs and place them onto the rack,” you explain, demonstrating the steps that you would usually take, “then you don’t want to set the timer for more than twenty seconds or it’ll burn.” 

Soonyoung nods along, trying to follow your instructions closely, but he can’t help get distracted by your features. Your hair tied up, glasses perched on your nose as you try to concentrate. He knows that it’s important to pay attention but he can’t help but feel attracted to you. There was a certain familiarity to you that he couldn’t seem to pinpoint. He hasn’t felt like this about someone he just met ever, and it’s not helping that you’re the one teaching him how to do his job properly. 

If he could stare at you during his whole shift instead of actually working, he would. 

“Does everything make sense so far?” you pull him out of his thoughts, staring at him expectantly. 

“Yeah, the pastry stuff seems like the most simple thing so far,” he comments, watching you put the croissant into a bag to eat after you’re off work. 

“How about we go back to making more test drinks? Just so you can get the hang of it,” you offer, wanting him to get more practice just in case it’s a busy day the next time he comes in for a shift. 

“Sure, you’re a great teacher by the way, I’m just new to all this,” he comforts you. 

“Thanks, and don’t worry too much, you’ll get better with time,” you pat his shoulder. 

You give him a smile of gratitude. The past few hours had you doubting your knowledge, patience, and teaching skills all at the same time. But his words of reassurance make you feel him warm inside. 

The way Soonyoung’s cheeks puff as he smiles makes you giggle. There was something about his soft features that makes him so endearing, which makes you feel a little bad for raising your voice at him earlier while he was trying to learn. 

Sure, he’s not the smartest when it comes to working at a cafe, but you have faith that he’ll be able to learn as time goes by. From the looks of it, Soonyoung seems determined to do better, that or he’s faking it. Either way, you owe it to Seokmin to show him everything you know.

Ⱄ a/n: i hope you enjoyed the teaser!! lmk what you think :)

[jthealien]

To key or not to key, that is the question. (Aka I wanted to put my two cents into the “Buddy is a key” theory since Book of Deacon had more people talking about it, for good reason.)

So what do I think? Uh. Well. It’s complicated. I’ll try to keep this organized, but man do I love tangents.

TLDR: Buddy’s not a key, not not a key, but a secret third thing.

First off, Book of Deacon established some pretty major things, specifically that keys can go into books and what keys look like inside of books. I’ll focus on the latter for a bit.

While much more human looking, Silver still retains a lot of her key (ha.) features: partially gray skin, gem eyes, a general sparkliness.

She’s so shiny :D

I’m going to make an assumption that most of those traits (especially the first two) apply to the other keys’ human forms.

And Buddy? Well he doesn’t have any of those. There’s absolutely zero color on that guy that isn’t #FFFFFF, and while his eyes do kind of stare into your soul — they also look like normal human ones.

But we do know that keys can make minor appearance changes to their users. Considering skin modifications like tattoos are possible, who���s to say any key-like features could just be covered up? It hasn’t been stated otherwise, so that can’t be discounted as an option.

But, in Dreams by Night (it’s not one of my rants without me bringing up that episode) we get our first — and to date, only — actual glimpse of Buddy that isn’t in a book or dream.

From what we see of his ear, it doesn’t look very key like. Silver’s ear had some of her key skin tone, so if Buddy was a key, his ear would be a different color as well. It isn’t, though.

But, hypothetically: if Buddy was a key, what key would he be?

I’m almost certain the answer is Violet.

I’ve pointed this out before, but they look really similar. Like, down to the eye color, eye shape, and weird little smirk.

It’s likely not a coincidence. I can’t really think of a reason why Violet would make any other key look like a more masculine version of herself — or if that’s even possible for her to do.

So yeah, he’d be Violet. (I’ll get into the implications of that later because oh boy.)

If that's the case though, can keys put themselves into books? I mean, maybe?? But I feel like that wouldn’t work. Another reason why I don’t really believe that Buddy is a key.

But I can’t ignore that there’s definitely details that’d be explained by it.

That thing around Buddy’s neck in his dream? Other people have pointed out that it kinda looks like a keyring. And yeah, it really does. I’m not quite sure what else it’d be.

How does Buddy know every detail of every story Chase goes into? Keys have that ability.

Why doesn’t Buddy like water? Well, metals can rust.

There’s another thing I can’t bring up because the episode is in fastpass jail as I’m writing this. But it deals with keys not enjoying being stuck as keys with the keyring. (Other fastpassers know what I’m referring to, I think).

All that being said, I’m going to go over some possibilities. Kind of in order from how little to how much I believe them

1. Buddy is a key, but not Violet

It’s not impossible, but I’ve already mentioned the reasons I’m convinced that if he were a key, he’d be Violet. So I’m going to write this one off for now.

Well uh, I would if it weren’t for Chekov’s Gun (or I guess Chekov’s Keyple, in this case).

Why would Punko use a whole episode to establish that keys can use other keys for books, if that wasn’t going to come up again in some way? I suspect that payoff is going to happen this season. Otherwise, it’d make more sense to introduce this detail later.

Unless the focus isn’t meant to be on that ability of the keys, but rather what the keys look like. In a way this might be meant to prove Buddy couldn’t be a key.

But, for the most part, I believe this option the least.

2. Buddy is a key, and Buddy is Violet

I don’t really think this one is true, but it might be my favorite just for the pure symbolism and potential. I might make an AU about it tbh.

Them being one in the same would be the simplest(?) explanation as to why they look so similar.

It’d also mean, technically, Buddy/Violet is in some way trans. Besides me just thinking that’d be neat (source: I’m trans), it’d also have some fascinating story implications.

Like, Buddy has some pretty heavy identity issues, what with him thinking he has to fit the role of the villain, because he doesn't know how to act outside of that. Chase then shows him he can be more than the expectations placed on him by others. Buddy being transmasc would defensively fit into this too.

It also fits with the story’s themes of breaking conventions. We already see that with Chase and Buddy’s having two keys of the four keys that are gendered — and also the only two specifically stated to be for a female role. What else would be a bigger upheaval of conventions, though, than for the personification of the villainess role to actually be a man?

There could definitely be something there too, of Buddy feeling trapped in the wrong body by resenting being a key.

Do I think the story will go down this route? Eh, probably not. But it’s fun to think about! (I think that’s how I’d describe the whole “Buddy is a key theory” in general).

In terms of evidence against this, barring what I’ve already talked about, there’s one thing. However it's in a fastpass episode, and I’m hesitant to say anything about it because I’d feel really really bad for spoiling anything. It's not that major, but I’m going to be on the safe side. Just take my word that it’s pretty solid proof Buddy and Violet are not the same person. (It’s from that scene in ep. 53, if anybody wanted to know.)

Side Note: This section might be the best place to add this, but the name Violet comes from the Latin ‘Viola’. The most well known use of this name is the main character in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. She spends the majority of the play disguised as a man to work for a duke and ends up falling in love with him. Not trying to say this is how it’ll work in Cinderella Boy, but I just think it’s interesting.

Anyway, the next and last option.

3. Buddy is not a key, Buddy is not Violet, but is related to her in some other way

Somehow the theory I believe the most in is the one I’m the least sure how to explain, lmao.

Based on everything I’ve said, I’m pretty sure Buddy is a human. At least from a narrative standpoint it’d make the most sense, because Chase dating one of the keys just seems kind of… weird? (But maybe liking keys runs in the Hollow family, who knows.)

If Buddy was a key, then the other keys would be his family. He really just doesn’t talk about them like that, though. In Rules of Engagement II, he calls Silver “it” and “your key”, and I just don’t think the keys would do that to each other.

So, my other explanation as to why Buddy and Violet look similar is that Buddy is partially a key. How? Why? Great questions because I also don’t know. The closest answers I have are almost purely speculation.

Maybe Violet is Buddy’s mom?? Walk with me here.

By mom I mean like, some kind of magic was used to either create a human version of Violet or infuse some of her powers into a human.

It would account for their positive relationship, considering she’s willing to make Buddy pretty outfits. It’d also explain why Buddy has a lot of attributes of a key (omniscient knowledge of a book, needing to see the story to completion, etc), and make all the key symbolism around him more metaphorical.

Unless she is literally his mom. (Don’t ask me how that’d work because again I don’t know.) In All That Glitters III he hesitates before he says his key did his hair.

Assuming that Violet actually was involved and he didn’t do his hair himself, what was he going to call her? Mom? Sister? Second cousin once removed? Friend? Maybe after his and Chase’s little talk at the end of Beach Boys he realized “oh yeah Violet would be a familial figure/friend.” I’m not sure, but I thought I’d bring it up.

As for the ‘why’ — perhaps Ex Libris wanted someone who is like a key but can also gather Narratonin. Yknow, for efficiency or something.

It’d tie back into Buddy’s identity issues, too. Because yeah I’d also be pretty messed up if I was created for a specific purpose that my entire worth hinges upon. I’d also be really pissed if Some Guy chose to just waltz into the stories, chose to deviate from the plots, chose to gather Narratonin — when I’ve never had those choices.

Case in point, I think this option is the most likely because I really don’t believe Buddy is a key. But I also don’t believe Buddy is completely unrelated to Violet.

[starseneyes]

MINI Meta - Daniel x Betty - Detty - Ugly Betty - Series Finale

Right now, my brain can’t take in much new in terms of entertainment or consumption. When I am writing, I don’t process new things as well as I do when I’m on a break, for whatever reason.

I feel like I miss too much because my brain starts working on some problem or hitch in a chapter, and too late I realize I’ve missed vital dialogue on the screen.

So, I tend to put things on in the background that I already know. Ugly Betty was such a fun show, and I truly thought I wrote about it at one point way back when. It’s possible it was so long ago that it was on my LiveJournal.

I was always a huge fan of the Detty, but I had no idea this show was part of a series of spin offs of a telenovela when I started watching it. I found out much later that in all the spin offs the handsome boss and Betty eventually became an item.

There was always a lot of debate back in the day about that final episode. For those that don’t know—Ugly Betty found out they wouldn’t be coming back for a Season 5 while they still had some episodes to film, so they were able to wrap as much as they could.

That means, there were some stories that were wrapped up nicely, others that were open-ended, and some that were the subject of much debate—namely, the future of Betty and Daniel.

Nobody can know for certain except those in the know, of course, but I’ve been rewatching that final season and especially that final episode. We all pretty much know what Claire knows by then—Daniel is head over heels for Betty.

I mean, c’mon, he talked about what a great team they made not only because they are a great team, but because some part of him has been getting louder.

I don’t tend to think of it as an awakening—he knew Betty was special to him pretty quickly. But I think he took it as a given that she was always going to be there. And as her determination and talent are taking her elsewhere, he has to reckon with why it bothers him so much.

Claire is quick to point it out, and he tries to shake it off. But, Daniel, honey, nothing in your behavior in that second half of Season 4 came off as remotely platonic. And your neon "I LOVE BETTY" sign was already flashing way back in the day, or Gio wouldn’t have mentioned you when he ran into Betty in London.

So, by the time of the party, Daniel has put together the pieces, realized his mother was right, but he is still stuck, in some ways.

And he thought the promotion/raise would be enough to keep her there, but it’s not. Because that isn’t what Betty wants. She wants to move on, and Daniel has trouble separating, "Move on from Mode" from "Move on from me" because the two have been so intertwined.

When Claire insinuates to Betty that Daniel has a thing for her, she shakes it off. It reminds me of, "I was so stupid to think that he would like me... I should’ve known that when he said I was beautiful, he meant on the inside."

That time, she believed it and got hurt. So, of course she has armor now against believing someone who would like Amanda (Connor and Daniel) would like her. But Daniel does. And Claire knows it.

But, remember what Daniel said to Betty way back then. "Men are stupid. They go for the obvious. Trust me. I know. I’m still doing it and I should know better."

He knows better, now. But Betty shakes it off. It’s just not something she’s ever considered. Daniel wouldn’t be interested in her.

They haven’t spoken since he signed her release. Since she walked in the room and he knew with one glance that he’d lost her. And they both knew it ached in a way they couldn’t soothe. But Daniel also knew that he had feelings for her, and there’s a block in his mind that keeps him from saying anything.

She’s leaving. She’s going. And even as her friends are toasting her goodbye, he isn’t there.

As Claire walks away, Betty thinks it over, trying to connect the dots. That can’t be right, can it? She picks up a glass of champagne and takes a sip, as though alcohol will somehow clear her vision.

It’s not long before Betty steps away from her own party to call Daniel.

"Daniel, this is Betty. It’s my going away party, and you’re not here."

Her voice cracks at the end. No matter what they are to each other, they’re something. And now her mind is whirring.

"I really hope I get to see you before I leave. Okay, bye."

She rushes off the line, because what is she going to say? Your mom insinuated you’re in love with me and now I gotta know if she’s right? No, she rushes off the phone because she has no idea what she is going to say.

Part of her is terrified that she was right that Daniel hates her, that he will never want to see her, again. But the other part is terrified that Claire is right, and she broke his heart and he will never want to see her, again.

When Daniel finally arrives at the party, he’s on the outside, looking in, a glass separating him from Betty. He can see her, and if she looked over, she would see him. But she doesn’t.

Instead, he watches Betty alive and celebrating. She’s a phenom, and he always knew it. He just didn’t imagine a world where she would be so far away. But he doesn’t want to say anything—because she’s moving on and he’s still stuck in place.

"I think I need to let her go."

Because he doesn’t want to hold her back. Because he thinks he isn’t worthy of her. Because he wants her to have everything she’s dreamt of.

Damn, Daniel loves Betty.

And what seems like the very next day, he makes a move. Not for Betty, but for his life. And, to be honest, he needed to do this first. Because he is to the point where he feels like everything has been handed to him, and he wants to go out and earn something.

"And what are you going to do?" "I’m gonna start over."

Because he needs to try a few things. He needs to see what the world holds for him. He needs to get his head on straight and get himself in order. I think Betty leaving really pushes him to do that.

Because Betty so often pushed him to be a better version of himself. And in her absence, he needs to learn how to do that for himself.

Now, that doesn’t mean she (and others) can’t positively influence him in the future, but Daniel needs to learn how to hold himself accountable. Stepping away from Mode was the first step.

We don’t know how much time passes between that and Betty and Daniel’s London meetup. My gut says a few months. But, that is strictly conjecture.

We see from the montage that Betty has created a life for herself, here. She has friends. She meets up with folks. She works hard. She loves her new life.

Presumably, she and Daniel haven’t spoken, still, since he walked out of his own office to avoid her after his heart was broken. That is a huge break in communication for these two.

But, I think by now Betty has assumed Claire was right about Daniel’s feelings. And the last thing Betty would ever want to do is hurt Daniel, so she respects the silence.

Daniel has been working on himself, and after some soul-searching, he is ready to see her. He is ready to take the chance. He crosses the whole bloody ocean just to be near her.

My brain goes a thousand different direction on how he found her, but I love that she’s there, living her life, and accidentally walks right into his arms.

Sitting on the steps together, her legs are crossed toward him. He sits open, and I strangely feel like it reflects his openness toward whatever life brings his way. He’s trying a different approach to things. But he’s still angled towards her.

"I know there’s a lot you can do, Daniel."

It’s their usual rhythm of her encouraging him or him encouraging her. This is part of their thing. As much as casual flirting is her and Gio, Daniel and Betty’s is an endless chain of being each other’s greatest cheerleader.

"Goodbye. And good luck, and have a safe flight." "Thank you, I’ll call you when I get there."

He is thoroughly charmed. He didn’t know how she would react, but here she is, still open to him showing up in the middle of her life without warning. Still smiling at him. Still bringing out parts of him he didn’t know existed.

"So, that’s it? You’re headed back to New York?"

She’s fishing. Rachel of 2010 didn’t catch it, but 2024 Rachel totally sees that she is fishing, here. She wants to know if there’s another reason he is there, but she doesn’t want to get her hopes up.

Because while she has been content these past few months, she is elated he is here, and she isn’t ready for him to leave.

He considers her question for a second.

"No, I think I’m gonna stay around here for a while. See what I can find."

Look. At. Her. Face! Look how she brightens at those words, how a smile plays across her lips.

"Maybe take you to dinner. Tonight, if you’re free." "I would love that."

Ah, my babies! She is nearly blushing as she smiles. Because she knows what it took for him to ask. She knows, now, that Claire was absolutely right. Daniel is down bad.

And look how satisfied he is with himself. That little smile is clearly, "Hell, yeah, she said yes!" Because, at this point, they both know what they are saying. They no longer work in the same building. They are friends, but this is different.

Daniel told Wilhemina that he was starting over. And he is.

It’s too short a shot after his little, "f*ck, yes" smile, but Betty’s face before the bell tolls and she realizes how long she’s been sitting on the steps is something to behold.

She’s smiling. She’s holding his gaze. She’s seeing him in a new light. Because she is allowing herself to see him in this light, and to imagine how he sees her. Years earlier, he told her she was beautiful.

She knows he thinks she is truly beautiful. She knows he thinks she is smart, capable, talented, hard-working, and so many other things. Now she knows he crossed an ocean to take her to dinner.

Not only that, he let her know that he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. This isn’t some knee-jerk reaction to her leaving. He’s had time to think it through, and process. When he told her he couldn’t live without her, that was within the former paradigm of their relationship.

Here, as they sit on these steps, all the hierarchical elements are gone (well, at least until a few lines later, but we’ll get to that). This is Betty and Daniel—two people who know each other better than they know themselves.

And Daniel knows he adores Betty. And as she looks back at him, she sees possibilities she’d never considered before. And she is almost surprised to realize she wants to explore them. With him. With Daniel.

With the clock chime, she stands, awkwardly holding her bag in her left hand. As she stands, she remarks on needing to get back to work, and that could be the end of it. But Betty gives us a little more.

"I’m really glad you’re here."

And then she reaches up for a hug. She reaches for him first. She didn’t have to do that. But she wants to hug him. She wants him to know she means it. She is so glad he is there.

Because Betty’s life no longer revolves around Mode and her family. It’s a different—but still beautiful life—and she wants Daniel in it.

He wraps his arms around her, and as he does, Betty closes her eyes. She’s savoring this. They’ve hugged before, but this time is different. The next time they see one another, they’re going to be on their very first date.

When she pulls away, they’re both just a touch awkward. Because this is real, now. He mutters about calling her later while she pulls her arm away a little too quickly. They can both feel the shift in their relationship. Subtle, but there.

But she only gets a few steps before she has to turn back around, to see him, again. To smile at him, again. To talk to him, again.

And the framing here on him is great because he is still in the same shot from the hug—same camera positioning. Like Daniel is still hanging there in that moment, and I just love that.

"Hey, if you want something to do, I am looking for a new assistant." "Well, maybe I’ll submit my resume."

They’re both smiling. They’re enjoying this. The awkwardness left as quickly as it appeared. Betty chuckles, leaning toward him as she does.

She turns to leave, and even as she takes the stairs carefully, pushing her windblown hair from her face, she is still smiling.

Daniel watches her go. We see Daniel of old in his face—smiling in appreciation of the woman Betty is. But he also ever-so-subtly looks her up and down as she walks away. Oh, yeah, boy is down bad.

And Betty, though she really needs to get back to work and knows she’ll see Daniel in a matter of hours... she has to sneak one more look back at him. And the smile on her face could rival the sun in its brightness.

So, while there is a lot of debate around how things ended for these two, I think the clues are there for us to surmise they are both excited about that first date.

And while I wish there was more Ugly Betty to tell us for sure, I like my little head cannon that they were happy together in the new life they built.

Thanks for reading this random mini Meta I didn’t intend to write. It just got stuck in my head and I long ago learned I need to write it out it I’m going to get through. See ya on the next!

[icallhimjoey]

I'm patient but I'm not but I'm patient but I'm not are we going to pee in this elevator and is Joe going to hear us go pssssss I'M PATIENT BUT I'M NOT please pretty please part three soon? 🥺 🥺 🥺 

so, ive learned that apparently peeing in front of a stranger is literal nightmare fuel for some of you and i wasnt aware and im very sorry for exposing you to this fear without having put a proper trigger warning in place... but, um, here's part three :) Wordcount: 3.5K

---

Between Floors and Feelings

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“They say this station’s haunted, you know?”

It had been forty minutes. Forty-five, maybe, of being stuck in a lift with a stranger, and all you wanted to do was sleep.

Just… have a cheeky little nap. Some good quality shut-eye.

If you would’ve been by yourself, you’d have laid down already, no doubt about it. Would’ve dozed off until firefighters or whoever else knew how to save people from lifts would come to rescue you.

If you’d have been alone you also would’ve definitely pissed yourself, but you thought that maybe the dress would hide it well enough. You could easily pretend the lift already smelled like urine when you stepped inside just before it had gotten stuck. Before you’d gotten trapped inside with a handsome man in an expensive suit who had introduced himself as Joe.

Joe, who was now trying to distract you with some spooky shit you didn’t believe in.

“Actor William Terriss, murdered in 1890-something. There used to be a bakery here,”

You were far too tired to really interact with him, but Joe didn’t mind. He just talked, and you just listened. You also didn’t really care for what he was telling you, but the fact that Joe was trying to make casual conversation in an attempt to distract from the stupid and increasingly annoying static from the intercom was sweet.

“And now they say he stalks the corridors, looking for bread. Tall guy, apparently. I’ve been told some tube workers were so scared of him, they requested to be transferred to a less haunted tube station,”

“Less haunted,” you repeated, “Not not haunted. Just, less.” that tickled you.

“A little haunting is fine, a touch of spook keeps you on your toes. But a tall actor looking for bread?” Joe looked at you, eyes squinted and eyebrows raised, and then jokingly answered his own question, “That’s too much.”

You just smiled, eyes heavy-lidded. A silence fell and your mind wandered a second. If you thought about it, almost every tube station could easily have scary spooky ghost stories. They were all underground with groaning tunnels and echoing passages, if you believed in the paranormal, any noise could be coming from the other side. Especially when a little more deserted, every single tube station could give you the creeps.

But you'd never seen a ghost, and were planning on keeping it that way.

If you could just… slump sideways and rest your head a little. Close your eyes a second. Let the ghost of the bread-actor roam freely and do his thing without bothering him... if you could just sleep. Doze off, just for a little while.

Joe pressed the emergency button for what felt like the three hundred and eighty-third time.

Pressing the emergency button no longer made anyone ask you any questions. It was just static now. Static that would last about 20 seconds before it died again, and every time it did, Joe would just press the button once more.

He’d been assigned the button-pressing task, which was good work, because you felt busy enough focusing on staying awake and working your pelvic floor muscles.

You were uncomfortable, and grew a little more uneasy when you felt eyes on you. You turned your head to see Joe give you a wary once over.

“You all right?”

How deep was this pit of concern this man held within him? You tutted and slumped your head forwards by ways of answering.

“I’m so close to my bed, I can practically hear it call my name,” you whined.

“If you’re an easy sleeper, I don’t mind if you close your eyes a second,”

Too kind.

“I can’t, I’ll piss myself,” you deadpanned and hissed straight after, because mentioning it made you feel it more. You tried to relief the pressure by pressing both hands firmly into the floor and leaning heavily into your stretched arms. It did nothing.

“That’s OK, I’ll pretend I don’t see,”

You gave Joe a stare, one that said, ha ha, very funny, even though you had to work to hide your smile.

The static died.

Joe pressed the button again.

“So, you live close then?”

You nodded. “Bow street, just down the road,”

Joe blinked, then let out an impressed whistle that sliced through the air with a sharp, clear tone.

“My God, I didn’t know I was in the proximity of an actual billionaire.”

You were hardly a billionaire, but you’d be lying if you said you had never used your postal code to impress people.

“It’s a tiny studio above a Pizza Express, it’s not that glamorous,” you argued.

“Oh, so… millionaire, then,”

Had you not been so tired, had you not needed the loo so badly, you’d have reacted more to it. Joe was funny. Sweet. All you could give was a slight smile before a grimace overtook your face once more.

“Should’ve gotten off at Leicester Square,” you muttered.

Because you did all the time. Especially in rush hours. But you hadn’t wanted to walk the extra few minutes. Minutes that, in hindsight, would’ve passed anyway. Minutes that would’ve meant you could’ve been home right now.

“Nah,” Joe reasoned, having a sip of his own water before continuing, “You probably would’ve gotten your dress stuck in the escalator, making the whole system tear it off, and that group of drunk guys likely wouldn’t have gone easy on you,”

Joe had seen and heard those guys too.

“To be honest,” you started, eyes closed and entirely focused on the strength needed to keep every single drop of urine inside your body. “I’d take the humiliation if that meant I would’ve been home right now.”

And you meant it.

Fuck, if you just kept thinking about it, you would only feel it more. You needed something to make you forget about the building pressure in your lower stomach all together, but it wasn’t as if there were ample options of entertainment.

There was just Joe.

“Do you live close? Or do you still have a whole trek home once we get out?” it was the easiest way of asking if you were potentially stuck in a small metal box with a neighbour.

“Quite the footslog for me still, yea,” so not a neighbour then.

You assumed he must have had plans. Maybe Joe was meeting friends in a bar somewhere, or maybe he’d been on his way to meet his girlfriend - you knew nothing about him, and didn’t know what to assume.

“Maybe we can convince the ambulance to drop you off at your place later,” you tried your hand at a joke.

“Ambulance?”

“For my ruptured bladder,” it came out all constrained, and instead of a goofy laugh, you received a concerned glance from Joe that then turned into something more determined.

“Yea, all right, hang on, I’m gonna…” Joe trailed off, and twisted to cap off of his water bottle again before he drank whatever was left inside. Just, chugged it all down.

“No, don’t– there’ll be two full bladders inside this lift, and–”

“One.” Joe said, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand before he got up onto his feet. Then, he held a hand out to you, and without much thinking you took it. Joe helped you stand, and then gave you the empty plastic bottle.

“What?”

“I promise I won’t look… or listen, I won’t, you just– you’re risking a bladder infection, and you’re clearly in pain, so–”

“Oh my God, you think I’m going to pee into this water bottle?”

“I don’t think, I know, I’ll just… here, look, I’ll squeeze myself into the corner with my back turned,” Joe demonstrated, turning with his face pressed into the corner before he covered both ears with his palms.

“You’re joking. We could be in here for hours, I don’t–”

“Exactly.” Joe looked over his shoulder. “So, please, go ahead. If you gotta go, you gotta go. I’ll give you as much privacy as I can.”

He turned back, and you just blinked at his backside.

What the fuck was this guy on?

You looked at the water bottle in your hands and for a split second actually contemplated doing it. But then, how the fuck was this ever going to work?!

“I’ve not got the aim for this,” you said. “I barely got it all into an open handbag earlier, this is never– hey!”

“You what?” Joe turned around, hands lowering from his ears, giving you a sort of panicked, definitely confused look.

“You have remarkably good hearing for someone who was very actively not listening to me peeing,”

Joe's throat stuttered as he quickly turned back, hands back over his ears. To really sell that he wasn’t listening, he started singing, “That’s me in the corner… that’s me in the, spot, light, losing my religion,”

He wiggled his hips a little to the words as he sang way off pace, far too quick, and you thought to yourself that if you were going to have to be stuck in a lift with a stranger, it was good that you’d gotten stuck with this one. This light-hearted, big goof of a man, who seemed to not have a single judgmental bone in his body. Or, a musical one for that matter.

Feeling no judgment was very refreshing after heavily judging every single aspect of yourself from the moment you’d walked out of your office.

“Joe,” you said, clearly not going ahead and even attempting to use the empty water bottle as a toilet. But Joe was definitely going to think twice about turning around after that comment you'd made.

“Joe,” you tried again, louder.

But that just prompted Joe to raise his voice as well, “Oh no I’ve said too much,” Joe dragged out his words to keep the silences in between to a minimum. “I haven’t said enough– I thought that I heard you– ow,”

Joe turned and saw that the bounce he'd felt on the back of his head came from the soft plastic of the water bottle you were now holding by the cap in your fist, like a weapon.

“Thank you, but, I think I'd rather die,” than pee in front of you into a water bottle that would then just be full of your yellow piss. You shudderd at the thought of it.

“Okay, well then,” Joe swiftly took the bottle from your hands and stepped around you. You turned and saw how Joe placed the bottle right side up in the corner furthest away from the intercom.

“It'll be here for when you need it,”

“I won't need it,” you said, sliding down the lift doors opposite to sit back down.

“Hmh, debatable,” Joe scrunched up the side of his face, making him wink as he did so as he moved to go sit down next to you.

“I won't use it,” you rectified.

“Then it'll just be there,” Joe bickered, gesturing towards the plastic bottle with one arm.

“For no reason,” you honestly weren't going to fucking use it. You'd probably end up pissing all over your own hands, and Joe just drank the last bit of water that you could've used to wash them after. Although, working with just the one container, that wouldn't have worked anyway.

“It'll be there because I like to keep my empty water bottles in corners of lifts. Feng Shoe and that.”

Joe had one of those faces where he joked a bunch without showing it much, expression all serious, or all annoyed, but then he'd crack straight after. Would press his lips together to hide the smile that he couldn't escape as his eyes found yours.

“Um, it's Feng Shui,” you corrected, and the giggles Joe was trying to repress came out in a snort.

Sat next to each other now, you felt a lot more comfortable because there weren't constant eyes on you. Both you and Joe had the same view: your own legs, feet, the empty lift, the water bottle in the corner across from you near the opposite doors...

You let your head fall back against the door and closed your eyes a second.

That whole ordeal had woken you up a little, but you were still tired. Resting your eyes was still very welcome.

“So... I have um, I've got some questions,” Joe started after a short silence.

You kept your eyes shut, but stopped breathing for a second.

“If they're about pissing into a bag, no you don't,” you said, and you heard a small disappointed hum escape Joe's throat.

“So, um, I have no questions,”

That made you laugh.

Still didn't feel great. You still had to pee, but you were determined now. Your body was going to have figure out a way to just... reabsorb it all back into your system.

You laugh turned into a frown and an extended groan.

“All right,” you sat up a little, ready to get into it. You were going to tell the full story, whether Joe actually wanted to hear it or not.

“No, please, you don't have to,” Joe laughed as he backtracked.

“I've already said too much,” you sighed.

“I could wonder for the rest of my life,” Joe was sweet. Didn't want to pressure you into sharing anything you didn't originally want to share.

“It'll be like therapy,” but you were already talking yourself into sharing everything that had happened to you that evening, all the things that lead up to you getting onto the tube looking like you did.

It didn't feel right to just let this guy think you were crazy.

Which, maybe you were crazy, but, at least you could make him understand.

Right?

So you told Joe about the annual costume party at the office. This year the theme was the letter B. You went with bride. Your boyfriend - fuck, ex-boyfriend - dressed up as a business man which meant that he could just wear his own office attire. You had joked that you were going to tell people he dressed up as 'boring'. You had given him so many alternative ideas; batman, bra salesman, Bob Ross, a banana, Baby Spice, a blue man group member, Buzz Lightyear... you had more up your sleeve, but he'd insisted on business man. Would just be easier.

Yea.

Easier, and also more boring. But it was whatever. Showing up in a wedding dress with him wearing a suit was kind of cute, you thought.

And the party had been fun! Everyone had looked amazing, really amazing. Most people had gone all out with their outfits and it made you feel less silly for walking around in a big puffy white cupcakey wedding dress. Someone had dressed up as big foot, the full costume, and you'd had to figure out who hiding inside that costume by process of elimination.

But then, when you were hunched over the table that held all the drinks with two of your colleagues, mixing stupid shit together to make awful brown-looking drinks, it all went wrong.

You looked up, searched for him with your eyes, because you had a gross drink to give to him, and saw him across the room, talking to Derek whose desk was three seats over from yours.

You saw how he excused himself. Saw him say he was going to go for a quick toilet break.

But then he walked the opposite way. Derek hadn't even noticed.

And you were dumb.

Thought he just didn't know where the toilets were.

So with two drinks in hand, you rushed after him. Had a sip that spilled down the sides of your mouth because you weren't being careful, and you'd grimaced and laughed at how nasty it was.

Then you saw him step into your boss's office, and you slowed down. Why was he going in there? Surely he knew, could see, that wasn't where the men's room was.

You were about to call out for him, were about to go, “Babe, are you lost?” with a laugh stuck at the back of your throat that was ready to slip out when you'd see him all confused and all alone in your boss's office.

But then, when you stepped into the doorway, he wasn't all confused. And he wasn't all alone.

His face was stuck to your boss's face, and you could see actual tongue. You saw her fingers work to loosen his tie. You saw his fingers pressed into her waist. She was dressed as a bunny, the Playboy kind, because of course she was.

You didn't think they'd even seen you. Not that you spent a very long time looking at them. You'd instantly turned on your heel and marched back to where the party was still in full swing.

Two colleagues saw your ashen complexion, saw the shock and the panic and the hurried shaky steps you were taking and cornered you. Said things like, “I'm sorry you had to find out this way,” and “We would've said something sooner, but, you know, she's our boss,” and “I'm sure you understand, don't you?” because they'd all known. And apparently for fucking ages, too.

Your face had been streaming down with tears once they were done talking to you. Once they'd advised you to go home, you had mascara all the way down your neck and two empty glasses in your hands. The godawful cocktails that held nothing but strong liquors mixed together had been a godsend.

You'd hitched, “Tell her I quit with immediate effect.” without wanting to look anyone in the eye.

Everyone could go and fuck themselves.

And then, just before you walked out, you saw her handbag. You knew it held her planner, her cigarettes, maybe even her phone, and you thought, I've got to pour something in.

The table that held all drinks was too far back into the office. People would notice. Maybe you could go hold it open under a tap. Place it in the sink in the toilets and just.... fill it up.

That's when you had felt your lower stomach pinch.

“Listen,” you said to Joe, regrettably in tears once again.

God, what a pathetic evening.

“I'm not proud of what I've done. But I did exactly what you think I did and I only stopped because I heard footsteps.”

Joe had just listened to you without interrupting besides the hand he'd placed around your wrist when he saw your eyes well up as you spoke.

He very slowly rubbed his thumb back and forth, but didn't say anything. It felt like the most appropriate way to comfort you. He was used to hugging strangers, but that didn't mean that you were, and he had to actively work against the instinct to curl an arm around you.

The hand on your arm felt nice.

The thumb rubbing felt nicer.

“So, I left her bag there, on the floor, and just hauled myself out of there... and, against my better judgement, decided to get the tube home instead of a taxi.”

You rubbed at the underside of your nose, and then at a cheek. Maybe these tears actually cleared your face of all the make-up remnants. There was going to have to be a point where it'd all just... wash off, right?

You were expecting Joe to say something like, I'm sorry, or, that's awful. But then he softly said,

“Should've shat in it,”

And the laugh it erupted from you was embarrassingly loud. Came right from your core. Made Joe laugh too as he bent forward a little to find your eyes with his. Made your tears suddenly become tears of joy once more. Made you grab onto Joe's arm with the one that he wasn't holding onto. Made you suddenly sit up in an attempt to not wet yourself.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit. No, fuck.

“Bottle!” you cried, moving your feet underneath you as you tried to stand up. "Quick, bottle, bottle, bottle!" you reached with hands you knew wouldn't reach far enough.

Luckily, Joe shot into action, almost seemed excited to do so. Jumped up, took the bottle, turned back to you as you were still trying to get up.

“I can't– help,” you squirmed, feet and bum on the floor still, both arms outstretched, waiting for Joe to pull you up.

You felt like you would sometimes feel when you really needed the toilet and you were right outside your flat, fumbling with the keys as you tried to hurry which only made things take so much longer.

Joe helped you stand, and the gave you the bottle before he slapped the emergency button. The static would help drown out the noise, you know, besides the loud singing Joe was about to do.

He stepped around you to go hide in his little corner again, hands already moving up to cover his ears, but you said, “Wait,” and used both hands to work you dress up, to get the bottle under the skirt.

Joe did wait, looking at you with big, rounded, expecting eyes. And you couldn't believe what you were about to say, but right now, everything was about survival and survival only.

“You're going to have to hold me.”

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @freckledjoes @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellyxo1 @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @ohmeg @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @roosterisdaddy36 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl @emma77645 @tlclick73

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[therhythmafterthesummer]

[23:26] ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Roommate!Chan x G.N!Reader Themes: Roommates to ??????, Fluff Warnings: Nothing much really. Pet Names? The MC is implied to be chubby/fat with not much focus on it. Mentions of anxiety. Mentions of eating. Belly fondling? These two have a Not-Thing going on, if you know what i mean. Barely proofread. Word Count: ~1k Summary: You couldn’t sleep, and desperate times require desperate measures.

Author’s Note: some simple fluff, for a change… been working on bigger pieces and i’ve been a bit overwhelmed with them… so here is a drabble i wrote as a little warm up… figured i’d post it just because~ (also i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t thinking of WereRoomies’ Chris and his girl while writing this… it doesn’t fit anywhere in the story i think, but my mind certainly drifted that way…)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Sleep wouldn’t come to you. It was just one of those days. One of those where you did so much, where everything was so loud, so bright, your senses were in complete overdrive.

Your eyelids were heavy, your feet ached, and the ringing in your ears seemed to be louder than usual. Even then, sleep wouldn’t come.

You got tired of feeling your heart stammering in your chest, of your thoughts running wild and free within your exhausted mind.

Overthinking… Probably your best ally and your worst enemy at the same time, especially at times like these.

You tried your best to sleep, you really did, but it just wouldn’t come. So, once you accepted that fact, you just picked up your phone and started scrolling. 

And scrolling…

And scrolling…

And scrolling…

And of course, that only made it all worse. So you decided to break the glass on your emergency kit: Christopher. 

Throwing your covers to the side you sat down on your bed, blindly toeing the floor until you found your slippers. The floor was cold, and that had a shiver running up and down your spine as soon as your bare feet touched the tiles. You decided to ignore it, since you finally found what you were looking for. 

With your slippers securely in place, you made your way out of your room, dragging your feet all the way to Chris’ door at the other end of the hall. 

There was a faint, purple light coming from the crack underneath, it stuck out like a sore thumb in the otherwise dark hall.

Knock.

Knock.

There was no answer for a while, maybe a whole minute. It certainly felt like an eternity, to the point you weren’t sure if Chris heard you at all, but it was just as you were about to knock again that his voice came from the other side, signalling you to come in. 

Once you opened the door you were engulfed by the purple light, making you squint after so long in the dark. When your eyes focused, you saw him, hunched over his desk, typing at his laptop. He was shirtless, which made no sense considering how cold it was, but Chris was essentially a living furnace, so you weren’t really surprised at this point. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d be freezing and he’d be completely fine, he’d always tease you about it, but hopefully not tonight.

You stood by the door for a moment too long, just admiring his side profile–the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the length of his neck… It wasn’t until he turned his eyes away from the screen to look at you, with a soft, but tired smile on his lips, that you noticed you’d been staring, so you snapped out of it, blinking a bit and finally going into the room, closing the door quietly behind you. 

“What’s up, pup?” Chris brought his arms over his head, linking his fingers together and groaning as he stretched. You must’ve been really tired, since the sight of his defined muscles didn’t seem to affect you like it usually did, which honestly was for the better. He’d clearly been sitting at that desk for way too long–something that was, unfortunately, not uncommon. 

“Can’t sleep”, you yawned, covering your mouth with your fist only to finally bring it to your eye socket after, rubbing sleep from your eye. 

“Mm… I’ll be done in a few minutes”, Chris gave you a small smile, only returning his eyes to his laptop screen once you nodded in acknowledgement. 

The click-clack of his keyboard filled the space again, so you made your way to his bed–stone cold, you noted–and you tucked yourself under the covers, letting the sound of the keys and just the mere presence of your roommate to embrace you, to ground you. 

Because that was what Chris always did. Ground you. 

Whenever you were feeling like this, all anxious and filled with chaotic thoughts, Chris’ existence could simply ground you. 

You didn’t fall asleep, you were a bit more relaxed, though, which was a start. Eventually, you heard Chris moving, closing his laptop and groaning a bit once again as he stretched–or at least, you figured he was stretching, you couldn’t really see him, you were turned away from him, and your eyes were closed.

Chris left the room briefly, only to return a couple of minutes later and go through the motions of switching off every light in his room. 

Darkness enveloped you. You felt the covers being lifted, the bed dipped behind you, and, finally, you felt warmth.

Slinging an arm around your waist, Chris pulled you to his chest, and you all but melted in his hold. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, his toothpaste-minty breath fanning your neck, and just his entire body heat wrapping around you. 

“You okay?” He asked all of a sudden, voice but a whisper. 

You simply shrugged, taking a hold of his hand and bringing it to your chest to hold it tightly against you. “Just tired”. 

“Mm…" Chris didn’t sound too convinced. He never did in these situations, but he didn’t press any further. Instead, he moved his hand, bringing yours close to him behind you, and you felt how he pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your hand. 

Returning your hand where it was, he hugged you closer, moving instead to press slow, tender kisses on your shoulder, raising goosebumps on his way. 

This wasn’t uncommon, either. Although it should’ve been. 

It only ever happened at this time, when you came to him with this problem in the wee hours of the night. 

Chris was touchy, cuddly, affectionate, he was at any time of the day. But this late, he always let his guard down, as did you, and you both always ended up here, sharing your warmth in ways that could be considered way too intimate for just roommates, just friends.

“Warm…” You mumbled all of a sudden, surprising even yourself. 

“Hm?” Each kiss lingered a bit longer than the other on your skin, each kiss moved a bit further up after the other, and Chris sneaked a hand under your vest top, finding your soft lower belly and slowly, almost absentmindedly kneading your flesh. The gesture always made you flush. 

“You’re warm, Christopher…” You replied simply, letting out the dreamiest–and possibly most pathetic–sigh you’ve ever heard. 

Chris chuckled softly behind you, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. “So are you, love…”

“Mmm…” You were turning to putty in his hands, between his tender kisses and his kneading hands all your worries seemed to be melting away, leaving only Chris and his touch in your mind. 

“You’re so soft, too… How are you this soft, baby, huh?” Chris emphasised his words by lightly squeezing your belly, making you smile.

“I like to eat… This… Renaissance body isn’t gonna… Maintain itself…” Your words were slurring, your mind was suddenly foggy with sleep, and you vaguely registered your ‘good night, baby…’

Just as you vaguely even registered Chris’ ‘sleep well, pup…’ right before you fell asleep.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @carefully325 @lavenderxkies @starshine-moon @biribarabiribbaem @meowmeowhoon @100layersofdaddyissues @dearalice @alexis-reads-fics @xcookiemonsteer @knowleeknow @chanlovesme If you want to be removed from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

[jennagrinsoverml]

HI i love your fic recs! This is gonna sound really specific but do you have any good fics about time? I'm thinking Bunnix-involved, time loops, alternate universes... it's been on my mind lately. thank you so much!

I had a lot of fun with this list! I feel like this one has been anxiously awaited since I posted about it a while back haha

Remember That Time When... by @mostlovedgirl

Twenty-two-year-old Marinette Agreste was looking forward to the anniversary trip she would be taking with her husband Adrien that weekend. Those plans are derailed when she wakes up in her old bedroom... and she’s seventeen again.

Multi-chapter. This fic is so fun, and I love the way it plays with both sides of the time travel trope. On the one hand you’ve got Adrien and Marinette suddenly transported to a future where they’re married, while in their time, they’re not together (though Marinette’s crazy in love with him of course). And on the other hand, you’ve got married Adrienette back in the past needing to pretend they’re not even together! It’s sweet and fun, and I loved seeing both how Adrienette got there, as well as what they’re like as an established couple at the same time.

A Hundred Thursdays by Midnight Musume (Peas)

Marinette is stuck repeating the same day over and over. Her friends (and especially Chat Noir) help her cope.

Two-shot. Groundhog day type fic where Marinette’s stuck in a time loop. (In the second chapter, Adrien’s the one who is stuck.) It’s extremely well executed, and I really enjoyed the Marichat dynamic, especially with how it was influenced by the interactions Marinette had (or did not have) with Adrien earlier in the day.

Clairvoyance by @whatarubberchicken

Being hit by an akuma is not usually this delightful. Or bright. Or completely eye-opening.

One-shot. This fic hits me right in the feels, with Chat Noir being transported to a perfect future where he’s married with children and so, so happy, and it’s just so beautiful. Before, of course, the akuma’s power is ended and it’s over.

Eight Years Overnight by @coffeebanana

All Adrien wanted was to finish grading papers and have a relaxing weekend with his family. He most definitely did NOT expect Bunnyx to show up and drag him eight years into the future. When Ladybug followed her husband into the future, she didn't expect to see him playing the part of the villain. She didn't expect fourteen-year-old Emma to follow her through, either. And Chat Noir from the future was wrong to think that saving his kidnapped wife would be a piece of cake the second time around.

OR: Ladynoir July with a time-travelling twist.

Multi-chapter. This fic is exactly the kind of fic I’m usually thinking of when I think of a time travel fic. It’s a little bit confusing in the way that such stories always are, but the confusion is really kept to a minimum. It’s so interesting because the love square get together is not a component of this fic, they’re married in both times! But it works so well, and the trust they have in each other in both times is a recurring theme and it’s beautiful. This is plotty and well constructed. 

Why Are You Like This? by @carpisuns

An older Chat Noir shows up in the middle of a class field trip with a special mission for his younger self.

Two-shot. This is sweet, hilarious, and utterly perfect. Chat Noir meddles in the love square and it cracks me up.

A Sound of Thunder by Tempomental

“Bye-bye, little… actually, that’s your line, isn’t it? Sorry.”

Ladybug stared at the man in front of her. Tall. Shaggy, but not unkempt blond hair. Oh yeah, and he was wearing a Ladybug costume.

“Who - who are you?”

“Oh, right, sorry.” He drew himself up to his full height and proudly announced, “My name is Adrien Agreste, and I’ve come from the future to rescue you!”

Multi-chapter. Adrien also comes back from the future to help out with the ladybug miraculous. It’s extremely intense and well written and every time I thought I had spotted a problem in the writing, it turned out to be a plot element but holy shit I thought I was going to die with how intense this is. If you like plot, you will absolutely LOVE this fic.

when you weren’t mine to lose by @bugsandchatons

Change is a scary thing, especially when it feels like nothing has stayed the same.

It’s been a year since Marinette became the Guardian of the Miracle Box - a year of struggling beneath a burden she never asked for, a weight that has her leaning on her partner more and more as the hours fly by, of letting him come to her, too, when he needs a soft place to land. A year of falling for the boy who takes on the world by her side with a smile made of sunlight, and fighting the growing urge to tell him what he means to her.

After all, they’ll have time enough for that when Paris is safe.

But when the unthinkable happens, Marinette learns the tragedy of loving someone quietly, and the lines she’ll cross to save him.

Multi-chapter. This is what happens when Ladybug loses Chat Noir: she uses Hawkmoth to go back in time to save him. It hurts in all the best ways and the writing is absolutely gorgeous and somehow we still get a happy ending!

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello, so there's a point in my story where one character gets separated from the others for a significant amount of time. He's presumed dead, and my original idea was to make it a surprise to both the characters and audience that he's alive and write a chapter or two from his POV since the separation, however now I'm worried that a flashback could feel interrupting or jarring. So now I'm wondering whether writing his subplot as it happens is better, having the audience know he's alive and what he's up to while the characters aren't

Stuck Between Flashback and Subplot

Well, first, if you wanted to do a chapter or two from this character's POV, I don't think both chapters would be a flashback. We'll come back to that in a second, though.

Whether or not to follow this character's adventure when separated from the others depends on what happens during that time. Stories revolve around conflict--a problem that needs to be solved--and every scene needs to be in service of whatever goal will solve that problem. If this character's "side quest" (we'll call it) is critical in resolving the story's conflict... maybe because they are after some potion they need for the final battle, or because they're in search of a critical piece of information... then you could definitely do some POV chapters from their POV so the reader could be part of this critical journey.

However, if this character just gets involved in their own adventure/shenanigans that have really nothing to do with resolving the main plot conflict, but still adds something to the story in the way of setting things up for later (important character development, or important world building), I actually think your POV chapter flashback might be a better idea. I wouldn't do two flashback chapters... but I think one could work in this scenario, especially if you set it up at the end of the previous chapter so that he reunites with the other characters and they're like, "OMG, WHERE WERE YOU?" That would be a reasonable lead in to a flashback chapter where those events are filled in.

Again, just depends on what works best for the story. :)

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[clambuoyance]

Do u want to talk abt ur ocs..... I actually followed you initially bc they seemed so interesting and silly and I want to know more if you feel like sharing :)

I still can’t believe some ppl follow me for my ocs bc it’s usually for my fanart so this is really nice to hear! I have a couple stories/universes but the main one I’ve been…developing (it’s on and off) since I was like 13/14 is about these two kids named Keiko and Rolin!! Im still doing a lot of world and lore building but the main gist is that Rolin is a teenage boy turning 16 who returns to his hometown to live with his aunt and meets a strange young girl named Keiko (debating on making her 10-12 idk she was originally 10). I won’t go too much into like Lore stuff but she has like..my own version of clairvoyance. They are kind of opposites, with Rolin being introverted and jaded, and Keiko being loud and optimistic but they are both silly.

I think it’s been said before but the whole driving relationship of the story is the two of them going on adventures throughout the city and solving mysteries while simultaneously becoming family and finding a real home within each other and the people they’ve met and learned to love 😚

Now the story is centered around Rolin and Keiko, but a big focus is on the cast of characters that fill mostly Rolins life. Mira and Artie were friends with Rolin when they were kids before Rolin left with his mom, and all three grew up and have been living their own lives, but when Rolin comes back they get a chance to reconnect (with Keiko’s help). Valoryn (Val) is also new in town, and befriends Rolin and Keiko. This is just a messy fast doodle of them I have better art in my oc tags🙏

Some old sketches

The other major cast is Rolin’s family, and Rolin has always been Asian so as I worked on the story his family kept getting more and more relevant especially with a major theme of the story being about the connections you have with people in your life so like I can’t leave them out. And I’ve never settled on an Asian ethnicity until recently where I was like I might as well make him Filipino so I can base his family off my own🫡 Cousins (both blood and not) that are years older than you but treat you like siblings and give u silly nicknames 🫶

Now Diana (or Deedee) is one of those characters I’ve had for a long time, and I made her because I liked those laidback mentor figures in anime (like Qrow from rwby) and wanted a laidback lady one 🤷🏻‍♀️ she also has some Misato from nge influence. She has always been written to be a mentor figure to Rolin and Keiko, and at one point I think I was going to make her his actual aunt but stuck to her being just a cousin so I could write about her relationship with her mom 🫶 Unlike her brother Darius, she does not live with her mom and Rolin has to go out of his way to meet her.

And Rolin’s parents’ story aren’t the main focus (they aren’t really present themselves in the main story) and it’s mostly just flashback stuff but they r silly and sad and I love drawing them 😼

I could go into more detail but that’s an overview of some of the characters

[wutheringmights]

Has anyone asked for the commentary for the latest Ctb chapter yet? 👀👀👀

Originally, everything from Link’s conversation with Impa to Link finally leaving for Kakariko was going to be at the end of the last chapter; but as you may recall, I ended up punting it over to this one in a waterfall effect from having to deal with a different delayed scene in the last section.

Good news is that on all fronts, the pacing is finally back on schedule. Mostly. There’s a scene in the present day that I’ve kicked off to a later chapter, but we’ll get to that when we get to that. 

Something I wasn’t able to quite talk about last chapter was why exactly I wanted this incident to be Link’s wake-up call; I wanted Link’s turning point to evolve around him realizing that his way of being a hero is messed up, not only for failing to save Kat but by being told that, politically, he saved the wrong person

Which will then tie into HOW Link saved her. I wanted Link to undoubtedly do the right thing, but I wanted his solution to be so extreme that it’s horrifying. Yes, he saved Kat. But he also brutally murdered three men-- and wanted to make them suffer in the process. Link can’t solve anything without taking extremes. These men have nothing redeemable to them, but in the context of Link’s history, I just wanted readers to sit there and go “huh” for at least a minute. Maybe two. 

As previously posted, the men’s names were based off of things that have given me brain worms as of late. 

This chapter made me realize that I really haven’t done enough with Impa; I’ve been relying too heavily on just telling you how Warriors feels as opposed to having her do things. Incredible work on my part. I will rectify that however I can. 

Speaking of which, Impa’s speech about becoming your role was originally going to include some extra information about her history with Lincoln before she became Impa, but I ended up cutting it because it was just an awkward time to go over that info; I hope there will be a time I can include it later, but it’s not super pressing or relevant so don’t get your hopes up. 

As previously mentioned, Kat’s disability is Broca’s Aphasia 

I remember when I was finalizing Kat and Icarius’s characters, I wondered if anyone was going to think there’s a thematic meaning to so many characters losing the ability to communicate; whatever is there is unintentional on my part, but whatever meaning you derive is still valid 

Also, out of everyone, Kat is the character I feel the worst about hurting. 

And for everyone wondering: Kat was knocked out when she was first bludgeoned. She was not awake when the men were killed. I am both touched and somewhat caught in disbelief that so many of you were worried about this.

When writing the introductory imagery for Kakariko-- describing the streets, people, etc--I was really worried that I was just retreading information that I already gave you all; but it’s also been, like, two years since the first Kakariko chapter came out, so I figured it was worth revisiting.

Hello, Jakucho! It’s been so long since she was in the story that I forgot how fun she is to write. She really brings an incredible energy to the mix. 

I’m trying to remember where exactly I got the idea for Link having to build his own house, especially since this is probably among the first ideas I had for the story. I think I came up with the idea of the house first and my brain immediately said, “Fine, but he built it while going through withdrawals.” O.K. Sounds cool. 

When I was writing the chapter, I didn’t like how I introduced Ayane. I got really hung up on the idea that she deserved something grander. Looking back at it now, I think it’s perfect. I’m glad I didn’t change it. 

There’s this through line I’ve been trying to maintain this entire story about Link feeling stuck in his role as a soldier, how inadequate he feels for not knowing a tradeskill (or really any skill outside of war-waging), and how jealous he is that Spirit can build nearly anything-- and this is the chapter where I finally feel the payoff of all those ideas. 

I hadn’t watched Vinland Saga when I finalized this idea, but now that I have watched it, do you know what this chapter is giving? Thorfinn emotionally healing via a farm arc. Go read Vinland Saga. It’s better than anything I can do. 

However, I did mean for that ending to be a little bit more ominous than it turned out. Sure, Link is deciding to move on and be happier, but he is doing so by ignoring all the things he has done. Surely, this isn’t going to bite him in the butt. 

Now that all of the war stuff is over, the story is now shifting towards a Link homesteading plotline, which will hopefully be as interesting, if not more. It’s definitely going to be harder to write, if only because now I have to take Link and show how he becomes Warriors.

Speaking of which.... onto the present day--

That opening scene where they’re escaping from the Sheikah by running across the rope bridge? That was a certified Pain In The Neck to write. I wrote about three different versions before finding one I thought was half-way decent. Why? I kept getting too elaborate with it and the scene kept running away from me. 

A part of the reason why that scene was such a pain is that it originally wasn’t going to happen! The last chapter was supposed to have a little transition scene about having to sneak away from the Sheikah before ending with the scene where Spirit helps Warriors with his arm. 

But with the canoodling scene kicked over to this chapter, I figured it was about time I began paying off the whole We’re Being Hunted Down By the Sheikah thing.

The hard march stuff then effectively ruined my original concept for the chapter: a series of scene where Spirit interacts one on one with each member of the Chain, to varying degrees of success. That got tossed out the window and never returned. 

But I think it was worth it? I like the hard marching stuff, and it helps with the blend the deep dark atmospheric stuff with the reunited Chain being absolute bozos

And I have missed all of the shenanigans. The exchange at the beginning where Warriors gets sarcastic about being told not to let go is very silly, but I like it. It makes me laugh. 

Speaking of which, I have decided that I am a big fan of Spirit’s whip. That’s all. Just wanted to put that into the world. 

Okay, let’s hop back to the canoodling stuff.

So that scene was what was supposed to be at the end of the previous chapter, if only to give you all the two-punch Spirit What The Fuck moments. Pacing-wise, the scene also acts as set-up for the house drama. Putting it at the end of last chapter would have made it seem like that plot point was more established. 

Also, another shout-out to Legend for being the character who is constantly surprising me with how fun he is to write. I’m not a big fan of him normally, so I always end up forgetting this until I get to write him again. Then again, I am also convinced that Legend is at his best when he’s a member of the supporting cast. He’s not main character material. 

And you guys have finally bullied me enough to convince me to make DILF Hunter Hyrule canon. You can’t say I don’t do anything for you guys. 

Four and Spirit not having a good relationship just feels correct. Even if Spirit was capable of not fumbling a social interaction for more than 10 minutes, I still think these two would not like each other very much. We might be able to get them to coworkers status, but that’s if we’re lucky. 

I finally got to do this scene with Warriors and Lana! Thank god! I think Lana scenes are among the first to get cut any time I need to make space, and this one has been getting pushed back for a awhile now. It’s good to finally get them to talk, if only to wrap up that little subplot about Warriors’s shittiness towards her while scratching the surface of my Sad Girl Lana agenda. 

Actually, this chapter did so well with the Lana and Linkle content that I feel bad that Midna got barely anything to do. Granted, her big moment where Twilight is seeking comfort from her is one of my favorites. So actually, Midna stays winning.

The scene where Spirit equates dead monsters to dead people is the spiritual successor to that scene way back in the past when he and Link had their big fight. I mean, that’s obvious.

A lot of readers seemed really surprised when Spirit was ruthless on the battlefield during Twilight’s rescue, and I want this scene to help remind everyone that Spirit kills people as easily as he kills monsters because, to him, they aren’t different. That’s still shocking, but it’s not because Spirit is uniquely cruel. 

The song that Spirit plays is the Song of Birds from his game, which functionally just summons a flock of birds. You need it to solve, like, one puzzle. I have decided that it’s actually an essential part of Lokomo burial rites. 

I regret giving Hyrule the line about understanding Spirit better. On one hand, I do think this would be a reason Hyrule would soften towards him. On the other, Hyrule was not on the battlefield when Spirit was being a ruthless soldier. What is there for him to understand better?

Legend’s game is a silly scene I have been trying to include in this story for so long, if only to give Spirit a moment to explain in-story how his senses work (and to have an allergic reaction towards Legend). I am trying so hard to drive home that Spirit’s abilities are only the senses. This guy does not have any other weird magic about him. He just knows extra information about people. 

Also, Wind robbing Spirit is extra funny when you remember that Spirit probably sensed him nearby and still somehow did not realize he was being pickpocketed. 

I think the things Spirit senses off of the boys are fairly obvious, except for Wild-- that water stuck in the nose feeling refers to Wild being submerged in the Shrine of Resurrection

I feel bad that I keep giving Wind more problems to deal with, but unfortunately, head trauma causes so many lasting conditions. I haven’t even really milked his newfound half-deafness yet. 

Also, thank you once more for everyone who gave me additional information on how signing with one hand works! You’re all the bomb!

The most painful cut this chapter was a scene where Spirit met Kat again. It's still gonna happen somehow, but the logistics didn't quite work (they're supposed to be on the run... what are they doing with meemaw???) and I just needed to focus on other things. It's such a shame, though. We almost had a perfect cohesive past and present chapter combo.

Initially, I was going to leave Toto in the well until the end of the story. He would act as extra motivation for Warriors to basically fix Hyrule-- if he doesn’t, Toto doesn’t go free. Then at least one person asked that he be rescued, and I crumbled. 

Also, if I did my job right, this is the first time in the present day that Anders’s name is said out loud! 

So you can probably guess that if I was willing to take as much time as needed to write the rest of CTB, I would have given saving Toto and burning the house down its own chapter. I’m not great at pacing (see: the fact that I wrote a whole chapter about characters traveling instead of skimming over that shit), but I figured I would take the risk and see if I could get away with having both off screen.

Was it effective? In some ways, yes. I think the shock when Warriors finds out is effective. 

What really makes my cutting corners work is that Warriors got to do something else that was really important instead, which is talking with Icarius. 

(By the way, I know most of you are doing a bit about being hardcore Warriors/Icarius shippers. But the few of you who are genuine, I need you all to wait until I actually show what the relationship is like before committing, if only because this is something I of all people would be writing). 

What isn’t effective is how Cia’s drawing was meant to foreshadow the house burning. I always thought of it as a minor detail akin to Cia’s warnings while she was in the bush, but a lot of you clung to it like it was going to hold the key to final climax of the narrative. That’s probably my fault. Oops. 

But Warriors and Spirit fighting... perfect. Love that scene. Honestly, I missed their violence. 

But my god. Getting to elaborate on the house and how it's filled with his mother's things at the start of the chapter before having it ripped away? Priceless. Perfect. I am patting myself on the back for that one.

I kinda hate that Warriors and Wind moment. It’s good and everything I like until after Wind offers up his earring. I didn’t know where else to take the scene, but I didn’t want to end it there. What I ended up writing is just really cliche, and I really wish I gave myself more time to redo it. 

And finally, that ending scene. Oh boy. Your honor, something is going on. If you guys are this stressed by a little cuddling, I cannot wait to see how next chapter is going to mess you up (pending on whether I chicken out or not)

Once more, I have to point out how insane everyone’s takes are making me. No one, and I mean no one, is on the same page about whatever is going on between Warriors and Spirit. There is no consensus. It’s driving me to insanity. I am still pushing myself to embrace different interpretations and to not view personal takeaways as a failing of the story. 

But the more space I give everyone to draw their own conclusions, the more I get worried about alienating a reader, or writing a story with an ending that one person likes and everyone else hates. 

But, again, this is a practice in ambiguity. Part of this story’s draw is how so many people are reading the same scenes and characters, and walking away with different perspectives. As nervous as it makes me, I love it.

[cnroth]

Fanfic Q&A

I was tagged a long time ago by @curator-on-ao3 and meant to do this later when I had time, but then I forgot. More recently, I was tagged by @strkamand, which has prompted me to actually do it this time haha. So thank you both!! 🩵 😘

1. Why do you write fanfic?

Short answer: Cuz it’s fun!

Long answer: I started writing fanfic in 2016 because I had spent the last year and a half clawing my way back to some semblance of sanity after a really shitty time in my life. We got Netflix for the first time and I found my favorite childhood show—Star Trek: Voyager. It was like a warm blanket in the cold.

I still remember playing Star Trek on the playground with school friends, inventing stories of ourselves as original characters on Voyager, and suddenly I had the thought—what if I actually did it? Made an OC that was actually complex and fleshed out and stirred her into the mix? Added more representation of mental health issues to the show? I also applied for grad school around this time with the goal of eventually working in the mental health field.

So I dusted off my old creative writing skills and began making fanfic as a way to share my ideas with other fans, explore ships and characters I thought were interesting and/or underdeveloped, or just enjoy playing with my favorite dolls while processing my own experiences, as well.

And here I am now, eight years later, still doing just that.

2. Which of your posted stories do you think about the most, even though the story is “finished”?

This is a complicated question, because the answer is and has always been the very first story I joined the fandom to share, and one that took me years to tell—the Far From Their Bones series. Technically, it is finished.

That being said, I may-or-may-not currently be working on something closely related to that… 👀

3. If you could give yourself fic advice from when you first started writing fic, what would that advice be?

I honestly can’t think of anything I’d say. I think that my fanfic journey, bumpy as it may have been, was what I needed to go through to become the writer I am today.

4. What’s your relationship to fic stats?

I rarely check them. Honestly, I post so rarely and a fair amount of my stuff is niche stories few people are interested in reading, my stats are probably shit anyway.

5. Is there a pairing or scenario or friendship you miss writing? If so, why? If not, why not?

The closest thing to an answer for this question is I suppose J/C. I used to be fairly prolific in that ship, but the community for that ship was eventually taken over by a few toxic people who manipulated other participants (especially newer ones) into a very narrow idea of what was acceptable as a J/C fan and shit-talked people who fell outside of that, and I ended up deeply burned. It took out my ability to read or write J/C for a long time. I’ve dipped my toe back in here and there since then, and I won’t say I’m done with that ship forever, but it definitely was a major pain having to grieve the loss of a ship that had brought me so much joy.

6. What motivates you to write?

Usually random story ideas that pop into my head when I’m trying to fall asleep at night.

Also, comments can sometimes prompt me to write more.

7. Why do you write for the fandom(s) that you write for?

I think that’s mostly explained above already. Someday, I might finally write the Hunger Games fic I’ve had in my head for many years, as that series of books/movies was also instrumental in my trauma recovery, but for now Star Trek: Voyager (and occasionally other Trek shows) is where I’m comfortable and inspired.

8. If you’re stuck writing a WIP, what do you do?

There are two strategies I use most often to deal with this:

One, making playlists of songs that fit the story in some way, whether through the lyrics or even just the vibe. Then I listen to that on repeat to help drive me into my other strategy, which is…

Two, I use imagery to develop compelling scenes in my head, mentally watching them and shaping them until I feel like I can write them down—even if they’re incomplete. In the end, I may end up dumping the scene, or changing it, or writing the most inspiring scenes first and filling in the gaps between them later, but ultimately the goal is just to get myself moving again.

9. What do you wish people knew about comments?

Comments prompt my brain to make more dopamine and serotonin. As a mentally ill person with a neurodivergent brain, that is HUGE.

I do my best remind myself that I’m writing fic I want to read, and that can often mean not many other people will want it like I do (or have the time to actually read it), but in the end getting comments lets me know I’m not alone and that my exhaustive efforts in creating fic are appreciated.

It’s also just like fucking Christmas morning when I see that email from AO3. Like, massive mood booster.

I also would like people to know that comments have, more than once, given me ideas and/or energy to write more.

10. Maybe there’s a question you wish had been on here. What’s that question (and answer)?

Not that I can think of 😊

I have no idea who has already done this, and most people I know who write have been tagged by the ladies who tagged me. If you have already done this, tag me in a comment on your post or something so I can read it!

And if you haven’t done this yet, consider yourself tagged!!

Let’s see ummmm @gijane-7702 @seema-unbound @cheile @caladeniablue @theredheadedcaptain @70thousandlightyearsfromhome anyone else who wants to join 🩵

[whoredmode]

oook here’s some more official stuff for my sriv rewrite. i’ll link a general plot overview here, but i’ll touch on some stuff as i explain these lol

so part of the story involves the revival of three major gangs from previous games: the rollerz, the emperors, and los carnales. these three are “back” in both stilwater and coming into steelport. i put “back” in quotes because technically none of these gangs ever left; the underlying themes of my rewrite is the larger criminal underworld, and while they may have lost some footing in stilwater, they still operated just fine outside of the city. 

so we’ll start with the rollerz. it would perhaps be more fitting to say they’re technically the ronin, with their more direct yakuza connections, but their new leader, jamie, uses the rollerz name as a tribute to her brother, joseph price. jamie and joseph were twins, and while jamie herself was initially not interested in dealing with the shadier parts of the family trade (instead she opted for working on her own jewelry business), she ended up being roped into it later on after the death of her brother and uncle. she also was able to get donnie to return to his roots and rejoin the rollerz, despite his hesitations. 

if you don’t feel like clicking on that link about jewelry, i’ll just say now that in sr1 there is a jewelry store called jamie price jewelry, and with that surname being so important, it seems like more than just a coincidence imo, so i’ve made her into an actual character. she’s out for revenge. their specific ventures are things like money laundering, drug and parts smuggling, and protection rackets. 

next is lady ranja and her lieutenant king, in charge of the emperors. lady ranja is based on the character of the same name from undercover, as well as partially influenced by another cancelled game character. lady ranja has roots in stilwater, having been a part of the VK back in the 70s alongside ben and jules. things ended terribly between them all, especially with the death of angela, so ranja left stilwater and didn’t return for years.

however during the 70s she ended up getting involved w the sons of samedi and their drug racket, and it’s how that gang ended up being able to get such a strong foothold in stilwater during sr2. ranja is a capable fighter, but her silver tongue is perhaps her strongest weapon of all. she has connections all over, and grudges spanning decades, so she and the emperors are not to be taken lightly. kings only rule a kingdom, emperors rule an empire.

finally there’s the carnales. they never actually went away, as they have a large presence out of state.

so while i don’t rewrite the first two games like i do srtt and sriv, i still have some adjustments to their stories because it like it better and it flows much nicer into my rewrites. specifically, i don’t think manuel ditched luz. i think the two are actually married, but luz is stuck in stilwater to manage the drug trade through there while manuel is in colombia. luz is fine with it, but she gets lonely—thankfully she and anteros have become pretty decent friends over the years. as such, as the carnales presence steadily grows in stilwater again, they and the saints don’t really have as many problems because their leaders are on good terms. however, during my sriv rewrite, luz goes missing along with a string of other disappearances. in the meantime, one of her lieutenants, torque (another character from total control lol) is the interim leader. he’s a longtime carnales member turned brotherhood then back to carnales. he works as a bouncer in his spare time (based on the cooler, another cancelled sr project), and he wants to find luz but isn’t so trusting of the saints, suspecting they may have a hand in whatever happened to her. thus, this ends up turning the carnales fully against the saints once again. 

anyway it’s almost 2:00 in the morning. i have many more thoughts but i need to sleep. i’m sorry ahead of time if there’s one billion grammatical errors in this😭😭