#featured fluff

[prythiansprincess]

shut up kiss me.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.

author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭

Theodore. Fucking. Nott. 

Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far. 

You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy. 

“Where the hell is he?”

He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”

“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.” 

The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”

The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst. 

“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”

“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”

Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.” 

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!” 

Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard. 

You were going to kill him. 

“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.” 

You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso. 

“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”

Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”

Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?” 

“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”

“Just hear him out, okay?” 

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”

“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.” 

“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.” 

“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.” 

You huffed. “That makes two of us.” 

The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively. 

“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”

“For what?” 

“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?” 

“He deserved it.” 

“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?” 

Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.” 

“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?” 

His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?” 

Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.” 

You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?” 

When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury. 

“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.” 

The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.

“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.” 

You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go. 

“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.” 

Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick. 

“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”

“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.” 

“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.” 

You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence. 

“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”

The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you. 

For crying in front of your worst enemy.

The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer. 

“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.” 

Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.” 

You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?” 

He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you. 

“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”

You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!” 

Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.” 

Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.” 

The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up. 

“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…” 

Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?” 

The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control. 

“Because you never told me, you idiot!”

“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.” 

“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.” 

You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was. 

“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?” 

Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest. 

“Because at least you were thinking of me.”

You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once. 

Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.” 

He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up. 

“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.” 

“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.” 

“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.” 

Because at least you were thinking of me. 

It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved. 

“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.” 

Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?” 

You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field. 

So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on. 

“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?” 

You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin. 

“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.” 

Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.

“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?” 

He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed. 

Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive. 

If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning. 

It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night. 

Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place. 

You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way. 

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?” 

You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”

Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died. 

Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste. 

He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth. 

“Need some help, love?” 

You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. 

Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat. 

Then he fucking moaned. 

It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again. 

“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”

“What is it, Theo?”

“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.” 

“What are you saying, Theo?” 

“I want you to be mine, Y/N.” 

You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”

“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.” 

“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” 

“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.” 

He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future. 

You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you. 

“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?” 

He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.” 

You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?” 

“Everything about you turns me on.” 

“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.” 

“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.” 

You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down. 

“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.” 

“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.” 

“I bet you are, darling.” 

You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.” 

He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off. 

On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?” 

“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?” 

“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.” 

Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.” 

“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.” 

He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.” 

You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.” 

“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?” 

“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”

“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.” 

“Yes ma'am.” 

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

please let me know if you'd like to be added.

[ozzgin]

Hey ozz! Will yandere monsters be jealous of the reader's plushies if the reader cuddles with the plushies instead of the monsters?

(If you don't mind, could you please make a sketch for the post? I love your doodles <3)

Your monster boyfriends are painfully aware it's just stuffed toys. They know. And yet, they can't help the pitiful envy that overtakes them whenever they happen to wake up and find you out of their hold.

"Careful now, you're squishing my pal", you'll explain, keeping a safe distance.

Had these been living creatures, they would've been ripped to shreds already. Sadly, they happen to be one of your preferred comforts. While accidentally slipping a claw or two in their textile fur would offer quite a petty satisfaction, the monsters don't want to risk upsetting you.

So, they have to resort to other maneuvers. Their current favorite is to just flip the stuffed toys upside down. That'll teach them. Lower your gaze, villain, they'll whisper with a scowl, pressing their plush enemies into the bed.

[More monster doodles] | [More monster stories]

[blissfullsvn]

wish you were sober

pairing. kim leehan x reader genre. best friends to lovers (?), fluff, a sprinkle of angst, mutual pining word count. 1.8k warnings. reader is drunk and attempts to kiss leehan in this state (+ reader is shorter than leehan and wears makeup) masterlist

all it takes is one call from you, calling out his name with a voice that’s poutier than normal, before leehan’s striding out the door with his car keys in his hands.

when he sees you, you’re leaning against an electric pole, hugging it like it’s your lifeline. your other friends are around you, trying to pry you off, but you only push them away. from where he parks, he vaguely catches his name falling from your lips before he marches towards you and calls out your name himself.

you look up, eyes widened like saucers. instantly, as if you’re electrocuted, you pull away from the pole and glare at it, reprimanding. “you’re not leehan.”

the group around you bursts into laughter, and leehan can’t help the small chuckle that escapes him either. when he walks closer to you, you immediately cling onto him the same way you did to the pole, your cheek squished against his chest.

“my leehan is here,” you mumble.

he would have melted—no, dissolved—if not for the fact that he’s wholly supporting your weight and that all your friends are eyeing the two of you giddily. hence, his legs are forced to hold up straight, even though his heart is nothing but putty in your hands. he translates this through his expression instead, softening as he looks down at you and gently pats your head.

after thanking your friends for taking care of you, he walks off with you in tow. with one hand placed securely on the small of your back, he opens the car door with the other and attempts to seat you in the passenger’s seat. it takes a bit, because you’re reluctant to leave your hold on him, but he eventually gets you inside the car.

still leaning over, he easily fastens your seatbelt with a click. when he tries to pull away, however, you immediately snake your arms around his neck, holding him in place. it’s so sudden that he drops his hand onto your thigh for balance, but he quickly moves it before the touch can linger.

you’re staring at him, eyelashes fluttering. unlike your previous demeanour, your eyes seem to have more clarity in them now. you’re looking at him as if you’re searching for something beyond, while he’s looking at you as if he’s searching for a way out.

it’s too much. the blasting music down the street, the whirs of engines on the road, the mix of breaths between you, the ghost of your fingers on his nape, the weight of your eyes on him, the beat of his heart against his chest.

he feels too much, and yet, he can’t take his eyes off you.

slowly, you drag one hand from his nape, your fingers brushing past his ears and sending shivers down his spine, until it settles on his jaw. you cradle it gently, your thumb caressing his cheek. then, for a sliver of a moment, you drop your gaze.

it’s just a split second, but he catches it all the same. without realising, he finds himself flickering his eyes as well, and it’s all the indication you need to pull him closer.

that’s when leehan smiles, and then removes your arms around him easily. “get some rest. i’ll wake you up when we arrive.” he pats your head before shutting the car door.

when he climbs in the car from the opposite side, you’re facing the front and blinking blankly as if you’ve been slapped. he resists the urge to hold your hand like he always does on car rides, and forces his eyes to the front before driving off.

you do end up falling asleep, and when he gets you out of the car, he has to hoist you up against him snugly because you’re leaning your entire weight on him again. he doesn't mind, never when it comes to you, so he keeps his arm around your waist the entire time he’s bringing you up to your apartment. even when he reaches your door and has to fish out the spare key you gave him from his bag, he makes sure his hold on you is secure and that you’re resting your head on him.

when he unlocks the door, it seems to have briefly snapped you out of your delirium, because you’re removing yourself from him and staggering towards the sofa, much to his concern. he swiftly moves next to you, guiding you to the soft cushions and gently laying you down.

you immediately shut your eyes, quick to fall asleep again. at this, leehan sighs as he brushes the hair away from your face. “don’t wanna wash up first?” he asks softly. when you scrunch your nose in displeasure, he lets out a small smile. “not even your makeup?” he prods, and you respond with a quiet groan before you fall silent again.

his smile increases and he nods. “okay. just rest.”

truth be told, the alcohol in your system has already started to dissipate bit by bit, so even if you wanted to sleep—and never wake up again after what happened in the car—you couldn’t help but register all the stimuli around you, effectively reconnecting your consciousness to the world. this includes the ruffles of leehan’s clothes as he stands up and the fading of his footsteps as he opens the door to a room, prompting a series of noises from within, before the footsteps are fading back in until they cease right next to you.

the shuffles are heard again as he sits down, then the light sound of bottles hitting the floor. you furrow your eyebrows, finally opening your eyes just in time to see leehan place a soaked cotton pad on your face.

leehan immediately smiles when he meets your gaze, and he wordlessly prompts you to close your eyes so he can place two cotton pads on them. you do so without a fight, though your insides are practically fighting.

“let me know if i’m too rough,” he says, then begins swiping a cotton pad across your skin. he lets the ones on your eyes sit for just a little longer before he gently wipes off your eye makeup. “i’m sorry,” he lets out meekly when he has to apply more pressure on a stubborn area.

you remain silent the entire time, but you open your eyes again when you feel a warm towel on your face. he meets your eyes and smiles, as softly as how he’s dabbing the towel on your skin, wiping away the residue of your makeup remover. he does this a few times; washing the towel in the bowl of water and squeezing out the excess; and you keep your eyes on him all the while.

when he thinks he’s successfully cleaned your makeup, he adjusts his position, ready to stand up, but your voice immediately halts him.

“leehan,” you call, quiet and almost vulnerable.

he places your skincare back on the floor and faces you completely. “yeah?” he responds, round eyes staring at you softly… and fondly.

“you just took off my makeup,” you state matter-of-factly, ignoring your astute observation which has only added to the whirlwind inside you.

leehan blinks, then nods. “did i do it wrong?” he asks. “but i did it like this last time too… and the youtube videos….” he trails off, talking more to himself than anything.

“leehan,” you begin, your eyebrows furrowing. “do you do this for your other friends?”

he looks almost scandalized at your question. “no?” he lets out in incredulity. “you know i only do this for you.”

recollections of all the times you had been drunk and all the times he had taken care of you without any complaints, including taking off your makeup, flash across your head.

you suck in a sharp breath, looking him in the eyes directly. “then why?”

leehan tilts his head. “what do you mean?”

you avert your gaze, suddenly feeling too seen by him. silence encompasses you for a while and he allows it, waiting for you but not urging you—it’s little things like this that made you realise you never stood a chance against the line that threatens to be crossed in your friendship.

you hope he feels the same when you ask, “why did you reject me?”

the air feels heavy when you drop the question, and the silence that follows is even more so. you don’t dare to look at him, especially after the prolonged hesitance from him. still, you wait, even though you’re already close to withering inside. but when he finally speaks, the last bit of hope you’ve futilely held onto escapes like a droplet of water from a broken pipe.

“you’re drunk,” he says, but he instantly realises the gravity of his words when he sees the way you falter, the way he can hear a crack from you—and he feels himself shatter as well.

“no, y/n, i didn’t mean it like that,” he coaxes, getting up on his knees and placing a hand on your arm when you turn away from him.

“what other meaning is there?”

he pats your arm, prompting you to turn around. “look at me, y/n, please,” his tone is so sincere that you waver, glancing back at him.

“i said you’re drunk not because i’m trying to dismiss what you said,” he says firmly, needing to be as clear as possible. “but because it’s just not right for me to accept any gesture like that in your state,” he starts, then adds softly; hesitantly, “as much as i wanted to.”

the tears prickling at your eyes had been so close to falling until you caught what he said at the end. suddenly, your tears are gone and all you’re left with is confusion.

“hold on,” you turn to face him fully, momentarily surprised by the lack of proximity between you before you focus again. “did i hear that correctly?”

leehan’s ears turn an evident cerise, but he doesn’t move his eyes that are blinking up at you roundly. “i don’t want to talk about this when you’re drunk,” he laments, almost petulantly.

“i’m not drunk,” you refute firmly, and while you know it’s not entirely false, you also know your best friend wouldn’t fall for it.

“i’d rather spill my heart out when you’re not seconds away from passing out.” he attempts a joke, one corner of his lips quirking weakly, even though he feels like his heart is actually about to spill out his chest with the way it’s rattling his rib cage in anxiety.

you don’t have the energy to entertain him, so you remain tight-lipped as you stare at him.

leehan breathes out, deflating as he opens his mouth again. “instead,” he says, all traces of playfulness gone. “please… remember this moment.” he looks at you through his lashes, suddenly seeming so small, and his tone is too solemn, too desperate. “i’m not sure if i can handle another seven years.”

a/n. i just wanted to write abt leehan taking off ur makeup when ure drunk idk why it turned into a word vomit 😭 but i hope it was enjoyable to read!

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

[fumiscripts]

✦ DEDICATED TO YOU

✦ one shot ,, rin itoshi x gn!reader

content:: you're a famous idol. and you're dating a professional player. of course you'll be making headlines when your relationship was made public.

for @yui2aku ,, fluff ,, 822 words

additional:: swearing, they're both whipped for eachother, might be ooc

Itoshi Rin is a rising star in the football industry. And you were in the peak of your idol career.

Obviously, the media would freak if they find out that the two of you were dating.

So you kept the relationship a secret, doing your best to not give out any hints. From making sure not to mention each other too much in interviews, to carefully crafting social media posts to ensure that fans won't be able to tell that you were going to a place together. Both of you and your management carefully concealed it from the public view.

But, of course, not everything goes to plan.

PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE ITOSHI RIN AND SOLO IDOL [L/N] [NAME] SEEN HOLDING HANDS AT HANEDA AIRPORT.

This was the headline of one of the many, many articles that flooded all across the internet. Your heart stopped, then slammed back at full force. You stood up straighter, brows furrowing together. The first time you opened your phone for the day, and you find posts about this everywhere.

Oh fuck. You fucked up, didn't you?

“Shit. What the hell,” you curse under your breath, reading more into the article.

Meanwhile, Rin looks up from your lap, opening an eye, disturbed from resting on your thighs when you suddenly stopped running your hands through his black locks. Your eyes flicked towards his,and he gave you a look, as if to ask what suddenly bothered you to halt playing with his hair.

You blink at him, before sheepishly turning your phone around, showing him what's been blowing up all over the media. “So… maybe we weren't discreet enough with the clothes I wore to greet you.”

His face instantly dropped, turning into something more serious as his teal eyes skimmed through the overview of the post. Rin sighed, grumbling something under his breath before burying his face onto your stomach. “...I told you to just stay at home and wait for me,” he murmured after a while, draping his arms around your waist.

“C’mon… you know I had to greet you right away. It was after a big overseas game I couldn't come to— it was the same time I had a concert,” you scoffed, reasoning with him. “The least I could do was pick you up at the airport.”

Rin didn't look up. He was touched by your little gesture to try and make up for not attending a vital match, so he didn't use that argument further. “Tch. Should've at least covered up more of your features,” he lightheartedly remarked. Though he really liked the uniqueness you had with the way you dressed up, so he can't hate on that. “Well, what do we do now?” he asked, moving the topic along from the problem to finding a solution.

You stared down your phone, anxiousness coming back to loom over you. “I should contact my manager,” you remark, watching as he finally lets go of you and sits up properly. “We could schedule a meeting with our PR teams?”

He nodded. “Right. So go do that,” he replied, though he already had a vague idea what they might propose for you two to do. It was a guess.

That guess was right.

The day after those rumors about the two of you having a secret blew up, you hard launched your relationship to the public.

They decided that coming out clean about this would be the most logical way to proceed— way better than the media speculating that the two of you were just a fling and start tarnishing both of you’s reputation. A proper relationship sounded way better than a one-night stand to the public.

After confirming on each official account, the masses began to be a little more welcoming to it. Hell, the ship tag between you and Rin seemed to blow up with positive posts, even. So that fix was successful.

Once the news calmed down through weeks, everything was back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be with being an idol with a soccer player for a boyfriend. Majority of fans seemed to love the two of you, often making fan media dedicated to your relationship. And in all honesty, it was cute. Plus, you had more material to tease Rin with.

Now, you couldn't help it. You personally asked for your next album to be something special, convincing management it's for the sake of the publication of your relationship. Though, it was dedication for someone special.

An album dedicated to him.

Rin knew those songs were dedicated to him. If those vibrant eyes of yours while you performed on stage— looking straight at him who sat by the vip seats— said anything, it was all about how much you loved him.

Oh, and with the way he looked at you with pure adoration, it was obvious he loved you, too.

Rin was utterly, hopelessly dedicated to you.

(a/n):: Grrrhsjua not my proudest work since I barely write nonchalant asf characters

taglist:: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku

@lakeside-paradise

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[4ranghaes]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ bnd when they’re jealous

ot6!bnd x reader [mostly fluff, some smut, separate classifications for each]

sungho 🎀 [suggestive, members talking about reader sexually, fem!reader, mentions of: daddy kink, stealing panties, photos taken during sex]

“morning,” sungho greeted his members, walking into the kitchen with his hood up, his feet heavy on the ground as he walked off his hangover.

“morning hyung,” leehan greeted. four of the members were sat around the kitchen table, apart from woonhak, who had gone to visit his parents for the weekend when the legal members decided it’d be a good idea to have a night out. or a night-in drinking after eating in a restaurant, as idol life would have it, with you supplying bottle after bottle from trips to the gs25 over the road whenever you ran out.

“how’s y/n?” jaehyun inquired, sungho shrugging with a laugh.

“passed out still,” he chuckled, sitting down after making himself a bowl of cereal, “she can’t handle drink very well. don’t worry about noise though, she sleeps like a baby.”

“i’m sure after what you put her through too,” riwoo snorted, sungho looking at him shocked, almost offended.

“what?!”

“he doesn’t remember,” taesan sniggered, slapping him on the shoulder blades, “watch your mouth when you drink next time, hyung. or should i say daddy?”

the boys all burst out laughing, sungho’s mouth dropping open as he looked between all his members, not a single one saving his dignity.

“ah it’s okay, yeppi,” jaehyun said, holding back a laugh as sungho looked up at him, scared of his next words, “we washed your girls’ panties for you, by the way, thought you should give them back clean before she discovers them.”

“what?!” sungho yelled, grabbing the material that riwoo was dangling off his finger, taken fresh out the washing machine.

“what, hyung? it’s not like you didn’t volunteer this information yourself!” leehan chuckled, “shame you passed out before you could show us your hidden folder, though. next time.”

sungho was raging now, standing up from his chair and slamming his bowl into the sink before standing before his members, his hands shaky with rage. “i’m fine with teasing. and i know this is my fault. but one more single word about my girlfriend and i will ruin you guys.”

“sungho?”

“y/n!” he exclaimed, his voice turning bright again as he spun on his heel to face you, your sleepy figure appearing out his bedroom, his sweater covering your body, “i’ll be there in a minute, sweetie, go back to bed.” you grunted, retreating back into his bedroom as sungho looked back to his members with a threatening look.

“anything to say?”

they all shook their heads, sungho sighing in response and walking back to his bedroom, his hangover headache returning tenfold. you were bundled on in the blankets, a sleepy smile on your face and one eye open as he walked in.

“yeppi!” you murmured, opening your arm to come into your embrace, which he did without complaint, “were they crucifying you for everything you said about our sex life?”

“you know?!”

“you were very drunk, sungho darling,” you chuckled, rubbing his back comfortingly, “it’s okay. i don’t mind, you’re still my yeppi.”

sungho snuggled into your body, pouting with a sigh, “my girl.”

riwoo 🦦🍡 [fluff, bsf!riwoo, reader has a crush on someone else]

“bye taehyung!” you exclaimed, waving. riwoo, stood next to you, watching silently. you elbowed him in the ribs, “say bye.”

“bye taehyung!” riwoo over-exaggeratively waved as you rolled your eyes.

“i don’t get why you hate him! i mean, he walked me here, how sweet is that?!” you gushed, riwoo rolling his eyes and wincing, preparing for the usual monologue, “i didn’t even ask him too, i mean i kept saying no! he’s just so sweet, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer… ah! i can’t—”

“a red flag, no?” riwoo hummed, sitting down and flicking the tv on, “not taking no for an answer?”

“well– i mean in some situations! but not this one,” you sighed, sitting next to him, “seriously, sanghyeok-ie, what has he done to you? why do you hate him so much?”

riwoo sighed, looking at you before shaking his head, “nothing. you know how i am. i’m just a hater!”

you chuckled, shrugging with a nod in non-committal agreement before relaxing into the sofa to watch tv.

“but i do have one thing…” riwoo started, before shaking his head, “no, nothing.”

“no, what?!” you said quickly, sitting forward and grabbing his arm, “i want to hear! sanghyeok, you’re my best friend, if you don’t like someone i might date then i need to know why!”

riwoo swallowed, the words ‘i might date’ piercing his heart. he could feel it deflating like a balloon. “it’s really nothing. i was just gonna say, if you’ve liked him for 5 years, why have you not confessed yet?”

“oh,” you said suddenly, shocked at the sudden confrontation, “well… i don’t… i don’t really know. i’m always like this, you know me.”

“no,” riwoo disagreed with a curt shake of his head, “you always used to confess.”

“yeah, and i was always turned down!” you laughed, taking the remote from him as you flicked through the channels, “anyway, this is not about those confessions. this is about taehyung, i mean why would he ever like me?! it’s more of an admiration thing than anything, i think.”

“hey,” riwoo said sternly, “don’t say stuff like that.”

“but it’s true, isn’t it?!”

“no!” riwoo exclaimed, shaking his head as he looked at you incredulously, “no, absolutely not! any guy– and especially he— would be lucky to have you!”

you chuckled, furrowing your eyebrows a little in confusion, “thanks, hyeok.”

“i’m serious, y/n,” riwoo looked at you sternly, his body now sat forward too, his hold on your arm strong, “i need you to know that no guy on earth is good enough for you, okay? you’re the kindest person i’ve ever met and you’re funny and sweet and beautiful, and he is just some fucked up boy in a band, who happens to have a pretty face, okay?! please.”

he flopped back against the sofa with a loud sigh. you laughed with shock, “sanghyeok-ie. do you have something to tell me?”

“yes, i like you, y/n,” he sighed, “but this is not about that, not even i am good enough for you, okay?! but especially not him.”

you laughed, leaning into riwoo’s body, “i know why you never liked him now.”

riwoo was frozen in place, half shocked and half regretting his rushed confession, coming from an ugly place within him. he sighed, “why?”

“cause you were jealous, baby,” you teased. riwoo’s heart clenched at the nickname.

“y/n, please don’t tease me about this, we can just move past it,” he sighed, going to leave before you grabbed his hand.

“what if i don’t want to?”

jaehyun 🪻🐕 [fluff, fem!reader, pouty!jaehyun]

“hi there. what are you doing here all alone?”

your eyes widened at the sudden figure in front of you, “um… hello. oh i’m just–”

“got stood up?” the man asked, sighing and shaking his head before he took your hand, “well it doesn’t matter, i’m here now.”

“what?! no! i—”

“ya!” jaehyun’s voice rang from the other side of the café as he exited the toilet.

you giggled, watching his over-exaggerated behaviour as he ran through the café. your hero.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” he exclaimed, looking at you.

“me?!” you yelled back, “w-what— i didn’t do anything, he came over to me!”

“oh?!” he yelled, turning his harsh gaze to the guy sitting in what was jaehyun’s seat, you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s arm, hiding behind his body, “then what even are you?!”

“excuse me?” the man asked.

“hitting on my girlfriend,” jaehyun hissed like it was a slur, wincing after he said it, “get lost!”

“hey- man, i’m sorry, i had no idea she—”

jaehyun rolled his eyes, looking at the man like he’d lost his mind, “did i not just say get lost?! get out of here! that’s my seat!”

the man held up his hands, apologising to you quietly as he got up and left. jaehyun continued making faces as though he was still talking to the man, sitting down where he’d just been.

“ah, and it’s warm from his butt,” jaehyun tutted, as you laughed.

“thank you,” you smiled, taking his hand, “i didn’t know what to do.”

“clearly!” jaehyun exclaimed, not taking your hand back, “letting him hold your hand, ugh! i can’t believe it! why didn’t you tell him you had a boyfriend!”

“i couldn’t get a word in!” you exclaimed, “i promise, myungie, if i could have, i would have. anyway. didn’t need it in the end, i have my big strong protector with me, hmm?”

jaehyun scoffed, your words melting his pouty demeanour, “well… i didn’t really do anything.”

“it was kind of sexy you know,” you whispered at a comedically loud volume, jaehyun reacting with a ‘i knew it’ noise and a loud giggle.

“yeah?” he asked, poutiness gone as he took your hand over the table, playing with your fingers, “that was kinda manly, huh?”

you smiled, amused at your boyfriend as you nodded.

“i was like bah! get the fuck out and he was like ugh! don’t hurt me! and i was like bah! that’s my girlfriend!” jaehyun spoke, mostly to himself, reliving his glory days, “ugh, don’t worry about anything, y/n. i’m here.”

taesan 🐈‍⬛🎸 [angsty, bsf!taesan, fem!reader]

“oh my god, y/n! thank god, i was just thinking about you,” taesan smiled, seeing you in the doorway of his apartment building.

“dongmin-ie!” you exclaimed, pulling in your friend for a hug, “oh it’s been so long!”

“right?!” he laughed.

you and taesan had met a few years back through shared a interest in rock music, ending up hanging out with each other for hours on end, just laying about and listening to music. many people thought it was a weird relationship, but it was nice, and peaceful. in the past few months, however, taesan had been busy with composing and schedules, and you’d been busy with, well, his best friend.

“come on then,” taesan smiled, putting in the passcode to the building, furrowing his eyebrows when you faltered, “y/n?”

“sorry, min, but i’m actually here to meet up with leehan,” you smiled sheepishly, “he’s just coming down now.”

“leehan? why would you be meeting leehan?” taesan laughed, seeing the aforementioned man leaving the elevator.

“oh you’re home,” leehan acknowledged his friend before jogging down the stairs outside the building, pressing a kiss to your lips as a greeting, “hey baby.”

taesan’s eyes might’ve popped out of his head if he wasn’t careful, letting out a breathy laugh, feeling as though the air was being ripped from his lungs.

“jaehyun wasn’t awake when i left, tae, can you let him know where i am?” leehan called, smiling down at you and pressing a kiss to your nose, both of you too wrapped up in each other to notice your friend’s turmoil, “okay, bye!”

taesan watched the two of you leave, his heart pounding out of his chest before running up the 12 flights of stairs to get to the lower dorm. he barged into the flat that was not his, finding sungho in the living room playing fifa.

“did you know?!”

“know what?” sungho exclaimed, shocked at the sudden anger.

“that donghyun is dating y/n?!”

“oh, yeah,” sungho nodded, before furrowing his eyebrows, “d-did you not? this started a few months ago.”

“a few months ago?!” taesan yelled, pacing round the dorm, his face scrunched up to fight back tears as he panted.

“what’s wrong?!” sungho exclaimed, “they’re kind of nice together. very in love from what i can see, they’re all over each other whenever she’s round.”

“she comes round?!” taesan shouted, his voice hitching at the end as he stared at the ceiling, “no, sungho, i didn’t know.”

“okay, but still, i don’t see what the problem is here! you know him at least, you can hang out with both of them.”

“the problem is i’m in love with y/n, sungho, you absolute idiot!” taesan yelled, finally crumbling onto the floor, burying his face into one of the bean bags.

“w-what?”

taesan groaned, turning over, “i’m in love with y/n. and i didn’t tell anyone cause i was embarrassed. and now look what’s fucking happened. oh god, i’m an idiot!”

“n-no, it’s okay! i’m sure! the-they’re not that in love, i was just trying to be nice,” sungho scrambled, his hand finding his younger brother’s arm, rubbing soothingly.

taesan sighed, shaking his head, “it’s over, hyung. and now i have to see both of them all the time. they kissed five times while saying goodbye to me… five times!”

leehan🪸🐠 [suggestive, fem!reader, leehan has a scratched up back, jaehyun and sungho being little shits]

“here he is,” jaehyun teased, leehan appearing from his room with a small smirk on his face.

“yeah, shut up,” leehan said pre-emptively, knowing that both jaehyun and sungho had just heard everything that had come from his bedroom, where you were laying, dozing after the evening’s activities.

sungho was sat on the floor playing fifa as he laughed, looking up to his younger friend, “woah!”

“what?” leehan exclaimed, spinning around. jaehyun, who was sat at the dining table, now seeing what sungho was referring to.

“damn!” he yelled with a laugh, “was that sex or were you being attacked by a bear?”

leehan laughed, waving off their comments as he continued to the fridge, getting drinks and snacks for himself and for after you woke up, “she can’t give me hickies, our make-up artist forbid her, i guess this is the other option, why? jealous?”

jaehyun shrugged, getting up and inspecting the marks on his friend’s back, “wow. i suppose y/n does have long nails, hmm?”

“yeah paid for by donghyun-ie, too!” sungho laughed, jaehyun nodding in shock at sungho’s words.

“you’re right!” jaehyun laughed, “wow i’d pay for my girl’s nails too if she did that to me.”

“and everything else,” sungho snorted, returning to his game.

leehan furrowed his eyebrows, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“everything else she was doing to you!” sungho laughed, his eyes not moving away from the screen, “you were moaning like crazy.”

“i just… do that for anything,” leehan defended weakly, taking a crisp from an open bag on the side.

“it’s not like he wasn’t doing it for her too, though,” jaehyun laughed, leehan could see he was revving up for one of his big moments, as jaehyun kneeled on the dining chair, beginning to mimic your moans loudly, “oh! donghyun! oh baby you’re so big! ugh! fuck me, please, donghyun!”

“alright, okay,” leehan spoke assertively, trying to calm him down.

“oh, donghyun!” sungho joined in, “need you!”

leehan’s face was solemn now, turning angry as he looked at his older friends.

“guys,” he said, his voice loud, “that’s my girlfriend, shut the fuck up please.”

jaehyun sniggered, agreeing in a way that pissed leehan off even more.

“you’re just fucking jealous you don’t get any,” leehan hissed, taking a swig of his drink.

sungho laughed loudly, trying badly to cover it up after.

“what?!” leehan yelled, “you have something to say?!”

“yeah,” sungho scoffed, nodding, “i never knew you were so jealous.”

“huh?”

“i’ve never seen you get angry before, donghyun-ah!” sungho exclaimed, excitement laced in his voice, “this is obviously what happens when you get jealous.”

“don’t have sex so loudly if you don’t want us to hear, donghyun-ah,” jaehyun teased, slapping leehan’s shoulder, the boy flinching as his hand landed on fresh wounds. “oh! i’m sorry! i really didn’t mean to.”

leehan’s voice was tight when he spoke, “it’s fine.”

woonhak 🧸 [fluff, poutybf!woonhak, fem!reader]

“ah why?!” you pleaded, tugging on your boyfriend’s arm, “just once! i just want to see!”

woonhak rolled his eyes dramatically, shaking his arm so your grip went with it, “no, y/n! i’m never going to bring you to my dorm, okay? stop asking.”

you sighed, exasperated, “i don’t see why not, woonie, i just want to see, you know i still live with my parents, it’s just interesting!”

“i wish i still lived with my parents,” he scoffed, picking at the tteokbokki the two of you had got from the stall outside your school, standing and eating on the corner as you hid your shivers under your padded coats and each others’ body heat.

“ah please!” you whined, stamping your foot as your boyfriend started to laugh, “you haven’t even given me a good reason why not!”

“come on,” woonhak laughed, thanking the grandma working at the stand as you began to walk home. you sighed, resigning your argument as you walked arm in arm.

“oh!” you exclaimed, slapping your boyfriend’s back excitedly, he looked at you with a shocked expression.

“ah what?!”

“it’s myung jaehyun!” you exclaimed, a shocked smile on your face at the man you’d heard and seen so much about, “oh! and riwoo!”

“stop calling them like that,” woonhak chastised, leaving your side to jog towards his members, “hyungs, what are you doing here?!”

“came to pick you up of course!” jaehyun exclaimed.

“i think we interrupted something though,” riwoo chuckled, seeing you arrive at woonhak’s side and take ahold of his arm again.

you bowed, greeting the two, “hello! i’m y/n.”

“of course,” jaehyun cooed, “we heard so much about you!”

you blushed, “really?”

“our woonhak never shuts up about you!” riwoo teased.

you smiled, the four of you beginning to walk home. jaehyun and riwoo talked your ear off the whole way, as you giggled and gushed over their words of praise and adoration for woonhak, and for you.

“y/n has to go now,” woonhak announced as you reached the top of your street.

“oh, i thought she’d come back to the dorm!” riwoo exclaimed. jaehyun nodded, “hey, come! taesan’s mum cooked a bunch of food for us that we’re gonna have tonight!”

“ah i want to! but woonie said i couldn’t come to the dorms…”

the two hyungs looked confused, turning towards woonhak as you did the same, looking at your boyfriend’s slightly guilty expression.

“it was because of this!” he suddenly burst, “hyungs, this is my girlfriend! let me talk to her at least, god!”

your eyes widened before you smiled, biting your lip to hold in your laugh; jaehyun and riwoo obviously not doing the same.

“i’m sorry, our baby,” jaehyun cooed, squeezing woonhak’s cheek as he protested more, “were we taking up too much of her time?”

woonhak rolled his eyes, suddenly growing embarrassed.

“let her come back to the dorm and you’ll have all the time in the world,” riwoo offered, woonhak sighing as he took your arm.

“come on then.”

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hi, sorry to bother you but I would like to ask for a post from Leona, where Cheka is trying to get her two favorite people married (ie Leona and the reader)

Hi! Sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask! I had a bit of trouble writing this one, but over all I had fun too. I hope you enjoy!

Duly-Noted - Leona

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ sfw/ featuring Cheka/ request

Word Count: 1790

Leona huffed out a sigh as he watched Cheka play with you on the floor of the Ramshackle dorm from his relaxed lounging on the couch.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out his nephew’s scheme when, as soon as the little fuzzball had appeared, he’d cheerfully stated that he wanted to come and play with you. Of course, Cheka had given himself as soon as he’d included his demands that Leona come along with him, even though he’d been to visit you at Ramshackle dorm plenty of times on his own.

Cheka was definitely fond of you, and Leona couldn’t really blame the kid considering how you patiently played along with the child. But that wasn’t what was really going on here.

What was going on here had more to do with Cheka’s pressing questions about why Leona so often told family members that he wasn’t particularly attached to anyone at school.

He could still see Cheka’s bright eyes looking up at him with an insistent frown on his face, “You know that is true, Unca! You like Y/n!”

Leona had snorted at his nephew, shaking his head at the child and, for once, was genuinely amused, “And what makes you think that?”

“You look at them the same way Papa looks at Mama. And Y/n likes you too! Why don’t you just take them home with you? Then you don’t have to worry about leaving them here while you visit us!” Cheka was as determined as Leona had ever seen him, but it was a drastic misreading of the situation.

Leona had plenty of reasons to not want to visit home, and none of them had a thing to do with you. But the moment he’d told the child that, Cheka had smiled. 

He’d been all but beaming up at Leona from where he sat on his lap, hands fisted in Leona’s shirt like he thought his uncle would run away, “But you do like them.”

There were moments, like right then, when Leona almost wondered if Cheka was more intelligent than his father. Perhaps he’d taken after his mother in that sense. But then Cheka’s hare-brained plot for tricking you and Leona into a relationship certainly hadn’t been well schemed.

After all, Leona wasn’t the only one who'd caught on. You had, too. Though, to be fair, Cheka wasn’t exactly being stealthy with his questions about how, “Wouldn’t it be great if we all lived together?”

Leona had fully planned on handling it, but you'd only smiled, shaking your head and saying you’d talk to Cheka about it, “He’s just a kid after all, and he doesn’t mean any harm. There’s no need to come down on him so hard.”

Leona had only eyed you with rising eyebrows before shrugging, “Have it your way. But he won’t drop this easily. He’s a stubborn little thing.”

You’d snorted, elbowing him lightly as you went by to rejoin his nephew, “Must run in the Kingscholar family.”

And that had been that.

Truthfully, Leona hadn’t known what you’d told his nephew, but Cheka had fallen largely silent on the matter of a possible romance with you after that. 

In hindsight, though, Leona really should have known better to think that was all there was going to be to it. Nothing was ever that simple. Especially when you or his nephew were involved.

He had to hand it to Cheka, though; he’d been completely caught off-guard when the child had suddenly questioned him about his wedding plans. Especially since it happened during a trip to Sam’s with Ruggie.

Cheka held up the little ring-shaped lollipop, and before Leona could even start to refuse to buy the treat for him, the child spoke with innocent curiosity, “What kind of ring are you going to get for Y/n when you two get married?”

Leona blinked, his eyes widening as he stared at the child who just stared up at him while Ruggie did a spit-take and Sam’s eyebrows lifted. The only sound that broke the silence was the occasional beep as Sam continued to scan items.

Leona finally frowned, crossing his arms as he eyed the child, “What makes you think I’m going to marry the Herbivore?”

Cheka frowned almost immediately, as if he were trying to mirror his uncle’s expression, “Y/n and you like each other. But Y/n said they couldn’t move in with us until you two had gotten married. They said people would talk since we’re royals and they aren’t if you didn’t.” 

Cheka’s expression slowly shifted to one of concern, his tiny hand reaching out and grasping Leona’s pants leg, “You are going to marry them, aren’t you, Unca? Y/n’ll be sad if you don’t.”

Ruggie only barely managed to contain his laughter in an ugly-sounding snort that had Leona shooting him a look while a smile began to creep across Sam’s face.

“Did they?” Leona’s gaze shifted back to his nephew as he spoke, his tone careful as he eyed the child. But he was already putting two and two together without Cheka having to say anything.

You certainly had talked to Cheka about it, but now Leona was going to have to talk to you about this.

Ruggie wiped his eyes lightly before kneeling, humor still flooding his voice even as he eyed Cheka, “Well, marriage is a pretty big deal, Cheka. Leona can’t just go proposing without putting some real thought into it.”

Cheka frowned, but Ruggie only titled his head, reasoning with the child easily, “Y/n deserves the best, don’t you think?”

Leona watched, eyebrows raised, as Cheka frowned thoughtfully before his tiny face cleared like a sun coming out from behind clouds, and he nodded, smiling widely, “Oh! I see! Leona wants to sweep Y/n off their feet like those princes in the stories Mama likes so much.”

Leona didn’t even bother hiding his groan as Ruggie snickered mischievously, nodding and egging on the child, “Exactly, so you’re going to have to give him some time to do just that.”

Ruggie paused, glancing up at Leona with a grin that had Leona glaring at him warningly. But the hyena beastman was hardly even phased as he looked back at the child seriously, his eyes sparkling with poorly disguised mischievousness, “We’ll both have to support him, Cheka.”

Cheka’s expression turned determined as he nodded before looking up at Leona, “Good luck, Unca!”

Leona sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an annoyed, “Uh-huh,” as he watched Ruggie lead his nephew out of the store.

 He would get Ruggie for what a mess this was inevitably going to end up being, as well as deal with whatever the little mercenary wanted in exchange for his assistance later. First, he had a certain herbivore to find.

And he couldn’t complain that you were hard to find. But then you never were.

You were, as ever, at Ramshackle. Working on upkeep for the run-down building on your day-off, just like you usually did on the weekends when you weren’t working at the Mostro Lounge.

Leona didn’t even have to call out since Grim handled letting you know he was here for him.

You turned, blinking up at him in surprise, before a smile split its way across your face. Leona wasn’t really looking at you, though. Instead, he was staring at the busted chair you were apparently working on with a frown. 

How the crossbar had wiggled its way out, was beyond him, but that was evidently enough, what had happened.

“Leona! No little prince with you today?” Your voice was bright, and Leona found himself looking back your way as he propped himself in the doorway.

He crossed his arms as he looked down at where you were seated on the floor, tilting his head at you, “Nope, but a certain little prince did tell me what you told him the other day.”

You blinked in confusion before your eyes slowly cleared, and you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head slightly, “Oh, that. He bought the marriage excuse pretty easily, and at least that way I didn’t have to lie or something like that to him.”

Leona felt his eyebrows rise at your words as you twisted to go back to work on the chair, seemingly unconcerned by what side effects your words might have had.

“Yeah, but now that he’s found out we’re dating when no one else has, he’s going to report directly back to either Falena or his wife,” Leona pushed himself off the wall as he spoke, walking over to where you were.

You simply shook your head at his disgruntled words, a smile on your face, “I still don’t see why it would be so horrible for them to know. But even if he does tell them, they probably won’t believe him. Not if Falena is as concerned about your love life as you say he is.”

Leona frowned as he watched you before kneeling and reaching around you to help you support the chair while you fought the crossbar into place, “No, he’ll call and ask all sorts of questions or, worse, have his wife ask me all sorts of questions.”

You hummed, tilting your head slightly, “You’ll be able to handle it if it comes to that. But, like I said, I really don’t see why it’s a big deal if they know or not. I’d like to meet your family.”

Your words caused his eyebrows to lift once more as he glanced over at you, watching as a frown crossed your face.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, confusion accenting your voice as soon as you spoke, “How did you find out what I’d told Cheka anyway? Did he just tell you?”

Leona let out a huff, his ears twitching as he glanced off to the side, “He saw one of those lollipop ring thingies at Sam’s and asked me what sort of ring I was going to get you for the wedding.”

You laughed aloud, earning yourself a look even as you shook your head in light-hearted amusement before glancing at him, “Hopefully nothing like a Ring-pop. That would be hideous.”

Leona grinned, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t want something big like that?”

You snorted, shaking your head, “No. I think a rock that size, even a fake one, would be a little heavy.”

He let out an amused huff, turning his eyes back to the chair as he idly considered what sort of ring might actually be best, “Duly noted.”

After all, your thoughts on it all mattered too, even if you didn’t know that held actually had been looking at some rings already.

[pandapetals]

Sanctuary - Part One

Logan and Wade are sent by Stryker to find a journalist who has been digging around trying to expose Team X. Logan isn't prepared when he meets an intriguing neighbor causing him to question himself and the mission.

origins logan howlett x fem!reader - team x mission, shy reader, no y/n, she/her pronouns used instead of you, logan's pov, origins wade, awkwardness, guarded feelings, angst, AU, crushes, logan kinda being a stalker, stryker and victor cameos, fighting, cussing, wade being a good friend, reserved logan

a/n: Okay buckle up because this is a long author’s note but when do i not make an essay? I’m an origins girlie and will find any excuse to write about origins logan (it was the first fic i wrote) so here we are with another one. Idk if this makes sense—maybe it’s an AU where logan just works with team x but somehow doesn’t go through the weapon x program idk, okay. It started as a one shot of shy reader (the club scene) then ended up becoming the longest thing i have ever written for logan. I’ve been working on it for the past 2…maybe 3 weeks and yeah…finally posting it after editing it. I was gonna make it a sad, angsty ending but i can’t do it, i just can’t. Logan deserves happy endings. P.s. it’s from logan’s POV that’s why it’s she/her pronouns instead of you. I’m used to writing in third person (creative writing major here) but for fics i usually do second person but here i just wanted to do something different. So sue me.

apparently this is too long to post in one go so here's part one and here's part two

word count: 40k

divider credit: @enchanthings

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the endless stream of chatter pouring from Wade’s mouth. It was like trying to drown out the buzz of a fly that just wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Logan?” Wade’s voice cut through the humid night air like a blade.

“Wade, for the love of God, shut up,” Logan muttered, low and gruff. “I can’t hear anything if you keep flappin’ your damn jaw.”

Across the street, neon lights flickered on the facade of a rundown bar, casting fractured shadows over a row of grime-slicked windows above. The air smelled of stale beer and gasoline, tinged with a hint of rot. Logan took a deep breath, focusing, scanning for any sign of their target—the journalist who’d gotten too curious about things he had no business knowing.

Wade just rolled his eyes, unfazed by Logan’s irritation. “I was just trying to tell you…that’s our guy,” he said, nodding towards a short, nervous-looking man slipping into the front door of the apartment building above the bar. The man’s hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets, head down, moving quickly, like he wanted to be invisible.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. Something about the guy didn’t feel right. But they didn’t have much else to go on, and he didn’t have the patience to argue with Wade right now.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He gestured for Wade to follow, and they crossed the street, dodging a couple of potholes filled with oily rainwater. The entryway smelled even worse up close like someone had left a pile of garbage to rot right inside the door.

Inside, the dim hallway was narrow and claustrophobic, with walls covered in peeling, faded wallpaper that might have once been green. Logan’s steps were silent, practiced—Wade’s, not so much. His boots thudded against the cracked linoleum as he craned his neck, looking around like a tourist on his first big-city adventure.

They found the apartment number and pushed their way in, catching the man off guard as he fumbled to pull a sandwich out of a paper bag. He dropped it with a startled yelp, hands flying up in surrender, eyes wide and terrified.

His voice came out in a high, trembling squeak. “L-look, I don’t want any trouble! I can give you money—I swear, I don’t have much, but—”

Wade cocked his head, raising a skeptical brow. “Money? Oh, sweetheart, we’re not here for money.” He let the word drip like honey, and the man flinched. Wade leaned in, studying the man like he was an insect pinned to a board. “You don’t know anything about Team X?”

The man’s face went pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He shook his head frantically, words spilling out in a stammered mess. “N-no, I swear—I’m just an accountant, alright? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Team…what? I’ve never even heard of it.”

Logan stood back, watching the guy’s every twitch, every dart of his eyes. Fear had a way of squeezing the truth out of people, and this guy looked like he was about to come apart at the seams. Logan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring slightly. He caught Wade’s eye and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. The poor bastard was clean—just some pencil pusher in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wade’s grin only widened a slow, wicked curve that made Logan’s stomach sink. He recognized that look: Wade had just had one of his bright ideas.

Wade clapped the accountant on the shoulder, making the man jump. “Well, congrats, pal. You’ve just saved yourself from a world of hurt. But I gotta ask—you like it here?” He gestured around the dingy apartment, where the wallpaper was peeling into long, damp strips and the faint odor of mildew hung in the air. “Nice digs. Bet the landlord’s a gem.”

The accountant blinked, looking from Wade to Logan in bewilderment as if he was just realizing they weren’t here to kill him. “Uh…I guess? I mean, it’s not the worst place I’ve lived.” 

“Perfect.” Wade snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up like a kid who’d just been handed a new toy.

Logan shot Wade a warning look. “Wade. Don’t even start.”

Wade ignored him, snapping his fingers again as if he’d just solved world hunger. “Think about it, Logan. We get a lease here. Set up a cozy little base. I’ll bring a lava lamp, we’ll order takeout, and we can scope out every last tenant till we find this guy. Like fishing, but in an apartment building.”

Logan scowled, crossing his arms. “You’re saying we go through the hassle of a rental application. Background checks. And wait.”

“Come on, think of it as blending in! Imagine us as friendly neighborhood roommates, huh?” Wade slapped him on the shoulder, a little too enthusiastically. “We can get to know the neighbors. Borrow a cup of sugar. You’ll look adorable in an apron.”

Logan let out a low growl, but he could see Wade wouldn’t let it go. They were running out of options, and if this journalist were smart, he’d be laying low. A bit of patience might be the only way to catch him off guard.

“Fine,” he muttered, the word tasting bitter. “But if you so much as mention lava lamps again, I’m throwing you out the window.”

Wade’s grin was all teeth. “Deal. Now let’s go talk to the landlord. You want to do the talking, or should I?” He turned back to the accountant, clapping him on the shoulder again. “Thanks for the inspiration, buddy. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll just let ourselves out.”

The accountant sank onto his couch, looking dazed, still clutching his sandwich like it was a life preserver. Logan followed Wade to the door, shaking his head. Somehow, he knew this stakeout was going to be the longest assignment of his life.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“Well, Stryker isn’t happy,” Wade was saying, his voice an incessant buzz in the background. “But when is that dude ever happy? I feel bad for his wife—assuming she exists. Maybe he just clones himself a girlfriend every year. Could you imagine? ‘Sorry, honey, I’ll be home late tonight, gotta send a couple of mutants to—’”

Logan ignored Wade’s rambling as he surveyed their new “home.” Calling it a dump would’ve been generous. The wallpaper was peeling, a thick layer of grime coated the windows, and the faint smell of mildew seeped out from behind the walls. They were at least lucky enough to have separate rooms, but even with a door to shut Wade out, Logan doubted he’d get much peace.

“Did he give you any more information?” Logan finally cut in, hoping Wade might actually have something useful.

Wade blinked, as if surprised that Logan was listening. “About the journalist?”

Logan clenched his teeth. “No—of course about the fucking journalist. Like what the guy might look like, or any other detail that could help us find him?”

Wade shrugged, completely unfazed by Logan’s irritation. “Nope. Stryker was being vague again. Just the usual cryptic bullshit. I swear, the dude is losing it. First, he sends us out here to find some mystery man—”

Logan rolled his eyes, tuning Wade out. They’d been here for a week now, trawling through this run-down building and questioning almost every unlucky soul who happened to live here, and they were no closer to finding their target than when they’d started. Stryker hadn’t given them much to go on, which only made Logan suspect that there was more to this mission than he was letting on.

Finally, Logan couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair and headed for the door. “I’ll be back,” he muttered over his shoulder, already halfway out.

Wade called after him. “Where are you going? Got a hot date?”

Logan didn’t dignify that with an answer. He took the stairs down two at a time, feeling a grim sense of relief as he stepped outside and let the cool night air hit him. The bar below their building wasn’t much better than the apartment—it was dim, grimy, and smelled faintly of stale beer and spilled whiskey. But at least it was quiet.

He pushed open the door and made his way inside, hoping he might get a few moments to himself, maybe even a drink strong enough to dull the ever-present headache that came with dealing with Wade.

The place was nearly empty, just a few regulars hunched over the bar and a lone woman sitting in a booth near the back. Logan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he meant to. She looked…out of place. Pretty, in a way that seemed wasted on a hole like this. 

She was sitting alone in a corner booth, a book propped open in front of her. Her hair fell over her face as she read, strands catching in the dim light, and she seemed oblivious to the world around her. There was a quiet stillness about her, a kind of focused calm that didn’t quite fit in a bar like this. Logan found himself wondering what a woman like her was doing here, in a place that looked like it had seen one too many bar fights and smelled like it.

For a moment, he debated going over, then caught himself. Not here to make friends, he reminded himself. Still, his gaze kept drifting back to her, curiosity nagging at him. She didn’t look like the regulars in this place—she was younger, softer, with a certain self-contained reserve that drew him in despite himself.

Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was the exhaustion of the past week catching up to him, but before he knew it, he’d grabbed his glass and walked over to her booth.

She looked up, eyes widening slightly as he approached. Logan stopped just short of her table, suddenly aware of how rough he must look after days on the road, stubble shadowing his jaw, his clothes rumpled and worn. He cleared his throat.

“Mind if I sit?” His voice was softer than he intended, and he cursed himself for feeling the slightest bit nervous.

She hesitated, then gave a small nod, closing her book. Up close, he could see the way her eyes flicked over him, assessing but cautious. She didn’t say anything—just looked at him, as if waiting for him to explain why he’d interrupted her quiet.

“You live upstairs?” he asked, nodding toward the ceiling. He thought he might’ve seen her in the hallway when he and Wade moved in, but he hadn’t paid much attention at the time.

“Down the hall,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the dull hum of the jukebox. “I saw you moving in yesterday. You and…your friend.”

Logan almost chuckled at that. Wade was a lot of things, but “friend” was stretching it. “Yeah, sorry about him. He’s…a handful.”

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips, a glimmer of amusement that made him feel just a little less like a stranger in a strange place. “I noticed.”

He found himself studying her face—the slight curve of her smile, the way her fingers toyed with the edge of her book as if part of her mind was still half in whatever story she’d been reading. Something about her felt…steady. Centered. It was a quality he’d rarely seen in anyone.

“Logan,” he said, finally offering his name, though he didn’t expect her to care.

She nodded, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than he’d expected. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”

Silence settled between them, not quite uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken questions. He could sense she wasn’t the type to pry, but there was a curiosity in her eyes like she was trying to figure him out, just as he was with her.

After a beat, she lifted her book slightly, an invitation for him to leave her in peace. But instead of moving, Logan found himself asking, “What’re you reading?”

She blinked, a bit surprised, then held up the cover for him to see—a worn paperback mystery novel. The kind where the hero always catches the killer but loses something in the process. 

He smirked. “Not exactly light reading for a place like this.”

She shrugged, a hint of a smile returning. “I like the quiet here…and usually nobody bothers me.”

“Well, guess I’m breaking that rule,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She didn’t seem bothered. She just looked at him with those steady, curious eyes, and for a moment, he forgot about the mission, about the dirty apartment upstairs, about Wade’s grating voice. Here, in this booth, in this shitty bar, with a quiet woman and a book, he felt…still.

The moment shattered when he heard Wade’s voice behind him, loud and smug. “Already making friends, huh? Didn't know you had it in you, Logan.”

Logan tensed, jaw tightening as he glanced over his shoulder. Wade was leaning against the bar with that insufferable smirk, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. Logan shot him a look that could have peeled paint.

“Mind your own business, Wade,” he growled, then turned back to her, keeping his voice softer. “Thanks for letting me sit.”

She nodded, her expression as calm and unreadable as before, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement, maybe, or curiosity. It was hard to tell. She watched him as he stood, and he found himself hesitating, not quite ready to break whatever strange, quiet connection had settled between them.

Wade wasn’t about to let it linger. “Come on, Romeo,” he called, grinning as he gestured for Logan to follow. “We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Or did you forget in all the charming small talk?”

Logan clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to punch the smirk off Wade’s face. Instead, he gave her one last look—a silent apology or a promise to be less of a stranger next time. But her gaze remained steady, unreadable, as he turned to go.

As he walked past Wade, he grabbed him by the shoulder, steering him roughly toward the door. “Let’s go,” he muttered.

Wade snickered, clearly enjoying the opportunity to needle him. “Touchy, touchy. Guess you do have a heart under all that grumpiness.”

Logan ignored him, shoving Wade ahead and out the door, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving something unfinished. Her image stayed in his mind—the way she’d watched him with those curious eyes, her quiet presence a balm in a week filled with noise and chaos. He didn’t know what it was about her that tugged at him, but he knew it wasn’t something he could explain, even to himself.

Once they were back on the street, Wade was still talking, filling the night air with his usual nonsensical commentary. Logan barely heard him. His mind was elsewhere, replaying that brief encounter in the dimly lit booth. He’d come down to the bar for a moment of peace, maybe a clue, maybe just a strong drink. He hadn’t expected to find…whatever that was.

But there was no time to dwell on it. They had a job to do, and he’d be damned if he let Wade screw it up.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan was screwed. Ever since that brief encounter in the bar, she’d been wedged in his mind like a splinter he couldn’t dig out. He’d catch himself lying on the worn-out couch in the apartment, tuning out Wade’s endless chatter and focusing instead on the faint sounds of her footsteps from down the hall.

She lived across the hall, exactly three doors down. He knew that much, even though he hadn’t seen her again since that night. She didn’t come or go often, and when she did, it was only for short trips—a few minutes out, then back to the quiet solitude of her apartment. 

Logan found himself straining his heightened senses to catch any trace of her: the click of her door, the soft pad of her feet against the hallway carpet, even the faint murmur of her voice when she spoke on the phone. It was insane. He didn’t know the first thing about her, but somehow she’d settled under his skin.

Fuck, he thought, running a hand over his face. I’m a damn stalker.

He tried to shake it off, forcing himself to focus on the mission, but the building felt too cramped, the walls too thin, and her presence was always just out of reach. Wade, of course, noticed Logan’s distraction and was more than happy to exploit it.

“So, when are you gonna introduce me to your girlfriend?” Wade quipped one morning, sprawled across the armchair with his feet propped up on the coffee table. “Or are you just gonna keep sulking around, hoping she magically falls into your lap?”

Logan shot him a glare. “She’s not my girlfriend, Wade.”

“Oh, sure,” Wade drawled, smirking. “That’s why you’ve been lying here for the last three hours, sniffing the air like a bloodhound every time she walks past. I swear, you’re worse than a teenager.”

Logan clenched his fists, jaw tight. He’d deny it if he could, but Wade had a point, and it grated on him. He needed an excuse—a real reason to cross paths with her again, something that wouldn’t make him look like a complete creep.

Wade, apparently sensing an opportunity to meddle, sat up with a grin. “Tell you what, old man. How about you make yourself useful and take our laundry down to the laundromat? You look like you could use a walk, maybe clear your head a bit.” He tossed a balled-up shirt at Logan’s face.

Logan caught it, growling. “Since when do you do laundry?”

“Since never. But I’m feeling generous,” Wade said, smirking as he dropped a bundle of clothes into a bag and shoved it at Logan. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll run into someone interesting while you’re there. Just a thought.”

Logan snatched the bag, too annoyed to argue, and stalked out of the apartment. The morning was cool, the sky overcast, and the streets were quiet as he made his way down to the laundromat which was across the street from the apartment.

He told himself he was only doing it to get Wade off his back—but he couldn’t deny the faint flicker of anticipation at the thought of seeing her again.

The laundromat was nearly empty when he pushed open the door, the dull hum of washing machines filling the air. And there she was, sitting on a cracked plastic chair near the back, a book open on her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration. She didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in her reading, a strand of hair falling over her face as she turned a page.

Logan froze, his grip tightening around the bag of clothes. Get it together, he told himself, forcing his feet to move as he made his way to an empty machine a few steps away from her. He tossed the clothes in, doing his best to look casual, though he could feel his heart thumping harder than it should.

After a moment, he glanced her way, watching the way her eyes skimmed the words on the page, her lips moving slightly as if she were tasting each sentence. She looked…content. Lost in her own world, soft and quiet in a way that felt like the exact opposite of everything in his life right now.

He cleared his throat, searching for something to say, anything that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. “Good book?” he managed, his voice gruff, and immediately regretted it. Smooth, Logan. Real smooth.

She looked up, surprised, her gaze locking onto his. For a second, he thought she might brush him off, but then she gave a small, shy smile.

“Yeah, it’s… a mystery novel,” she said, holding up the cover. Her voice was soft, and he caught a faint trace of lavender like she’d been folding fresh laundry just before he came in. “I like to read while I’m waiting. It makes the time go faster.”

Logan nodded, his usual stoic expression softening just a little. “Seems like a good way to pass the time. This place could use the distraction.” He glanced around at the flickering fluorescent lights, the chipped tiles, the machines rattling like they were on their last legs. “Not exactly a scenic spot.”

She laughed, a quiet sound, but it lit up her face in a way that caught him off guard. “No, it’s not. But it’s peaceful, in its own way.”

They fell into a silence as she went back to her book, and Logan found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye as he sorted through the clothes, feeding them into the machine one by one. There was a calmness about her, a quiet strength, and he couldn’t help but wonder what her story was—why someone like her had chosen to live in a place like this, so close to the kind of trouble people usually ran from.

After a few minutes of silence, Logan cleared his throat, searching for something to say. “You… uh, you live alone?”

She looked up, her eyes narrowing just a fraction, a hint of suspicion flickering there. He could almost see her calculating whether or not to answer. “Do you really think I’d tell you that?” she asked, her tone mild but pointed.

Logan’s heart skipped. Shit. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. “I didn’t—I’m not some creepy guy, I swear,” he said quickly, stumbling over his words in a way he wasn’t used to. “Just… making conversation.”

She arched an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And you expect me to take your word for it?”

He felt heat rise to his face and shifted uncomfortably, aware of how ridiculous he must sound. This wasn’t him—Logan didn’t do small talk, especially not with someone he barely knew. But something about her had him feeling giddy, bumbling his way through a conversation he wasn’t quite prepared for.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “Look, I’m sorry. You have a point. It’s just… this neighborhood doesn’t exactly feel safe. I guess that’s why I asked.”

She sighed softly, closing her book and running her fingers along its worn spine. “Even more of a reason not to answer your questions, don’t you think?” Her tone was cool and cautious, but there was no malice there—just a quiet wariness that made him wonder what she’d been through to put up those walls.

Logan nodded, feeling a twinge of respect for her caution, even if it stung a little to be on the receiving end of it. She’s smart, he thought. Smart enough not to trust a stranger with more muscles than manners, asking personal questions in a laundromat.

An awkward silence settled between them, filled with the rhythmic hum of the machines. He glanced down at his laundry, watching the clothes tumble through the soapy water, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid or intrusive. Finally, he let out a long breath.

“Look, I know I’m not exactly smooth,” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. “I just… don’t see many people like you around here.”

She tilted her head, curiosity softening her guarded expression. “People like me?”

“Yeah. People who—” He struggled to find the right words. “Who seem like they don’t belong in a place like this.” He gave her a slight, self-conscious shrug. “You look… well, like you’ve got better places to be than a crappy laundromat in a bad part of town. That’s all.”

She studied him for a moment, the corner of her mouth lifting in what almost looked like amusement. “And you think you belong here?”

He let out a dry laugh, surprised by the question. “Probably more than most. It’s not exactly my first time in a place like this.”

“Figures,” she murmured, her gaze sweeping over him, taking in the worn leather jacket, the stubble, the roughness that clung to him like a second skin. “You look… I don’t know. Like you’re used to keeping people at a distance.”

Logan blinked, caught off guard by the accuracy of her observation. He shifted under her gaze, feeling exposed in a way he wasn’t used to. “Yeah, well,” he said, gruffly, “sometimes distance is a good thing. Keeps people safe.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her expression softening just a little. “Maybe. But it also keeps people alone.”

Her words hit him harder than he’d expected, settling into some quiet place inside him he’d thought was long gone. He didn’t know how to respond, so he just nodded, feeling the weight of her gaze on him like a challenge.

After a beat, she gathered her laundry, folding it with careful practiced movements, her hands steady and precise. He watched her, mesmerized by the quiet grace in each gesture, the way she seemed to carry her world with her, self-contained and resilient.

As she turned to leave, she glanced back at him, something unreadable in her eyes. “Take care, Logan,” she said, her voice softer now. It wasn’t a question—it was a goodbye, or maybe a warning.

He swallowed, surprised that she’d remembered his name. “Yeah… you too.”

She lingered for a second, then gave him a small nod and walked out, leaving the faint scent of lavender and the echo of her words hanging in the air.

Logan watched her go, feeling the ache of something unfinished settle in his chest. He’d wanted to ask her more, to find out what kept her here, what kept her so guarded. But he knew better than to push.

As he turned back to the hum of the washing machines, he realized he’d be counting down the days until he saw her again.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“Stryker’s pissed,” Wade muttered, slumping against the kitchen counter in their dingy apartment. The usual smirk was missing from his face, replaced by a look of weary frustration. “Doesn’t understand how, after two weeks, we haven’t found the guy.”

Logan leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight. The truth was, he’d practically given up on the mission. They’d followed every lead, shaken down every contact, and come up with nothing. At this point, the search felt pointless. Hell, he could barely keep his head in the game—his mind kept drifting back to her. He hadn’t seen her in days, not since that run-in at the laundromat, and the silence from across the hall gnawed at him in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Tell him this shit takes time. We’ve done everything we can,” he said, the words coming out hollow. He didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore, not even for Wade.

Wade sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I already did. But, y’know, Stryker’s not exactly big on patience. Guy thinks we’re machines or something.” He shot Logan a sidelong glance, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “You all right, man?”

Logan grunted, brushing him off. “I need a drink,” he muttered, grabbing his worn leather jacket from the back of the sofa and heading for the door. He didn’t look back, didn’t wait for Wade’s response. The apartment felt too cramped, too stale, and he needed air—needed a chance, maybe, to see her.

He made his way down the narrow stairwell, taking two steps at a time, the dim light casting shadows over the worn wallpaper. The bar was quieter than usual, only a handful of regulars hunched over their drinks, lost in their thoughts. Logan scanned the room, his heart pounding harder than he cared to admit. He’d been hoping, half-expecting, to see her. But she kept to herself so much that even catching a glimpse felt like chasing smoke.

Then he saw her, and his breath caught. There she was, standing behind the bar, her sleeves rolled up, pouring a whiskey into a lowball glass with practiced precision. The faint glow of the bar lights softened her face, giving her an almost ethereal look in the dimness. She didn’t notice him at first, focused on her work, and he took a second just to watch her, feeling that strange pull tighten in his chest.

He slid onto a stool at the bar, waiting until she looked up and caught sight of him. Her eyes flickered with recognition, a brief, surprised spark that quickly settled into something more guarded.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

She gave a small, almost shy smile, setting the glass she’d just poured in front of an older man at the end of the bar. “Just part-time,” she replied. “Pays the bills.”

Logan nodded, glancing at the bottles lined up behind her. “Don’t suppose you’d join me for a drink?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, though there was something distant in her eyes. “I don’t drink,” she said, wiping down the counter with a cloth. “But I can pour you something strong if that’s what you need.”

He shrugged, trying to act casual. “Maybe I just wanted company.”

She paused, her hand stilling for a moment as she looked at him. “Rough day?”

Logan let out a humorless chuckle. “You could say that.” He hesitated, then added, “Work’s… complicated.”

She tilted her head, watching him with that quiet, steady gaze that always seemed to see right through him. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes talking about his job.”

“Not much to talk about,” he muttered, though he could feel the weight of it pressing on him, heavier than he wanted to admit. He took a deep breath, fingers tapping restlessly on the bar. “Let’s just say I’ve been chasing something that doesn’t want to be found.”

She nodded, her expression hardening just a bit. “Sometimes it’s better to let things go. Not everything needs to be caught.” Her words were gentle, but they struck something deep inside him, making him feel exposed in a way he wasn’t used to.

He ran a hand over his face, weary. “Yeah, maybe. Just… hard to walk away when you’ve got orders breathing down your neck.”

She arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through her usual reserve. “So you’re the type who follows orders, huh?”

Logan smirked, shaking his head. “Not exactly. But sometimes you don’t get a choice.” He picked up his glass, taking a slow sip of the whiskey she’d poured, savoring the burn as it went down. “What about you? Seems like you don’t mind keeping to yourself.”

She shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m used to it. Less complicated that way.”

There was a pause, and he could sense something unspoken there, a hint of a story she wasn’t quite ready to tell. He felt an unexpected urge to ask, to push just a little, but he held back, afraid of scaring her off.

Instead, he said, “This place doesn’t exactly feel like… I don’t know. The kind of spot for someone who likes peace and quiet.”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and unexpected. “Probably not. But I don’t mind it here. It’s… predictable.” She looked down, fiddling with the edge of her towel, a small frown creasing her forehead. “I’ve had enough surprises for one lifetime.”

Logan watched her, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t name—sympathy, maybe, or just the strange, unexplainable need to understand her. “Yeah. I get that,” he murmured, surprising himself with how much he meant it. “I’m not much of a fan of surprises either.”

She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her expression softening. “Funny. Somehow, I think you’ve had your fair share.”

“More than I’d like,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. He wanted to tell her more, to somehow convey the weight he carried without unloading it all on her shoulders. But he was used to keeping that part of himself locked away. So instead, he just took another drink, feeling the burn of the whiskey like a familiar ache.

After a moment, she leaned on the bar, closer than she’d been before, and he caught a faint whiff of lavender—a soft, almost comforting scent that didn’t belong in a place like this. “For what it’s worth,” she said quietly, “you don’t seem like the kind of guy who belongs here.”

He looked up, caught off guard by her words. There was something raw in her gaze, something vulnerable she was letting him see, if only for a second. At that moment, he felt the urge to reach out, to say something real, something that might close the gap between them.

But the words stuck in his throat. All he could manage was a rough, “Yeah. Maybe neither of us do.”

She smiled faintly, a ghost of one, then straightened, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. “I should get back to work,” she said, her voice soft but distant again.

Logan nodded, watching as she moved down the bar to help another customer. The warmth she’d shown him vanished as she fell back into the rhythm of her job, her expression becoming neutral, polite, reserved.

He sat there for a while, nursing his drink, watching her from the corner of his eye. There was a part of him that wanted to wait until her shift ended, to walk her home, to find out more about the life she kept hidden behind that quiet, steady demeanor. But he knew better. They were both loners, both wary, both used to walls that kept the world at a distance.

Still, as he finally rose to leave, he couldn’t help but glance back one last time, catching her eye for a fleeting moment. There was something there—something unspoken, a silent understanding like they were both seeing the loneliness in each other.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

A door slammed somewhere down the hall, jolting Logan awake. He shot up, his senses immediately on high alert, ears ringing from the sudden noise. In this dump of an apartment building, chaos was as predictable as the peeling paint on the walls, but something about this was different. He felt it low in his gut—a tug of instinct that told him her door was the one that had slammed.

He didn’t even think twice. Rolling out of bed, he barely bothered to throw on a shirt, his sweatpants clinging to his legs as he stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The air was thick and stale, the smell of old carpet mingling with the faint, sour odor of cigarette smoke. Shadows pooled in the corners, and the weak fluorescent light flickered above, casting an eerie, washed-out glow over everything.

Logan froze when he spotted a lanky, rough-looking guy standing outside her door, his posture tense, fists clenched and white as he pounded on the wood.

“C’mon, let me in!” the guy snarled, his voice slurred and aggressive. “We’re not done talking!”

Logan’s jaw tightened, a surge of anger rising in his chest. He watched for a second, sizing the guy up—a wiry frame, greasy hair, clothes rumpled like he hadn’t changed in days. The man looked like trouble, the kind of guy who didn’t know when to take no for an answer. And if he was here banging on her door at this hour, that made him Logan’s problem.

Logan’s voice came out low and cold as he approached. “You wanna keep it down?”

The guy spun around, his eyes narrowing as he took in Logan’s broad shoulders, the scowl etched deep on his face. “Who the hell are you?” he sneered, but there was a flicker of hesitation, a hint of unease that Logan caught right away.

Logan took another step forward, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “I’m the guy who lives down the hall,” he said, his tone deadly calm. “And you’re about two seconds away from regretting that door you’re banging on.”

The guy’s sneer wavered, but he tried to puff himself up, stepping forward like he was going to make something of it. “This doesn’t concern you, man. I’m just trying to talk to my girl.”

“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk,” Logan replied, glancing at the door. His fists clenched instinctively. The thought of this guy forcing his way in, disturbing her, made his blood boil. “So maybe you should take the hint and get lost.”

The guy scoffed, but there was a nervous edge creeping into his voice now. “Look, we’re just… we’re going through some stuff. It’s none of your business.”

Logan took one more step, close enough that he could see the guy’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Last warning. Leave. Or I make you leave.”

Before the guy could respond, the door opened a crack, and she appeared, her face pale and tense, eyes darting between Logan and this guy. “Logan, don’t. Please,” she said, her voice softer than usual but carrying a weight that made him pause. “It’s… it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Logan glanced at her, his irritation tempered by a flash of confusion. Handle it? The guy was practically foaming at the mouth, and she was telling him to back off.

The guy shot her a pleading look. “Come on, babe, just give me five minutes. We can talk this out.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and Logan could see the resolve in her eyes as she shook her head. “I already told you, we’re done. There’s nothing left to talk about. Just go.”

The guy didn’t budge, his face twisting with frustration. “You’re being unreasonable. This is all because of that stupid job, isn’t it? You think you’re too good for me now, huh?”

Logan felt his patience snap. He took a step forward, his voice a low growl. “She said go. Don’t make me tell you again.”

The guy’s eyes flicked back to Logan, the last traces of defiance draining out of him. For a second, he seemed to weigh his options, then cursed under his breath and turned, stalking down the hallway. He cast one last resentful glare over his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight, Logan turned back to her. She was leaning against the doorframe, her face tight with frustration. He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, but she cut him off with a weary sigh.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she muttered, her eyes fixed somewhere near the floor.

Logan frowned. “Seemed like he wasn’t getting the message,” he replied, keeping his voice gentler than usual. “Didn’t look like he was gonna leave you alone.”

She crossed her arms, hugging herself as if trying to put some barrier between them. “I just… I didn’t want to make things worse. He’s already been hanging around too much as it is, and now—” She trailed off, looking away, clearly uncomfortable.

Logan’s brows furrowed. He’d come out here ready to throw the guy down the stairs if it came to that, but now he was starting to see the other side of it. “Is he…?” Logan paused, not sure how to phrase it. “Your boyfriend?”

She shook her head quickly. “No–I mean he was, sort of. Not anymore.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “He’s just… he doesn’t know when to let go.”

Logan felt a flash of anger on her behalf, a protective instinct flaring up inside him. “If he gives you any more trouble, you let me know. I’ll make sure he stays gone.”

Instead of relief, his words seemed to frustrate her. She let out a soft huff, rubbing her temples. “Logan, I don’t need a knight in shining armor. This is… complicated. He’s just going through something. It doesn’t matter—” Her voice trailed off leaving the silence to hang between them.

Logan clenched his jaw, forcing himself to take a step back. He wasn’t used to being told to stand down, especially when he felt someone needed his help. But he could see this only made her more anxious, that his interference was complicating things for her in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

“Fine,” he said, though it took effort to keep his voice steady. “But if he shows up again, I’m not gonna just sit by and watch him bother you.”

She looked at him, her expression softening for a moment. There was a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, tempered by weariness. “Thanks, Logan. I appreciate it. Really, but it won’t make things easier. He’ll just think—I just don’t want any more problems, okay?” 

He nodded, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t quite name. He’d wanted to protect her, to do something useful, but it seemed all he’d managed was to add to her stress. “Got it,” he said quietly.

She gave him a small, tentative smile, then turned back to her apartment. As she shut the door, he caught one last glimpse of her expression—tired, guarded, but grateful, like she was carrying the weight of more than just a bad ex.

Logan stood there for a long moment, staring at her closed door, hands clenched at his sides. He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d started to care until he’d felt that surge of anger seeing someone else give her trouble. But now he could feel her boundaries, a line she’d drawn that he hadn’t meant to cross.

Turning back to his apartment, he couldn’t shake the frustration coiled tight in his chest, or the quiet ache that came with knowing there were parts of her life he couldn’t protect her from.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“You and that girl—have you made any progress?” Wade asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a lazy sip of his beer. They were sitting in their usual corner of the bar, ostensibly keeping an eye out for any sign of their elusive target. But Wade’s attention, as usual, had drifted to more entertaining topics.

Logan huffed, eyes scanning the room. “What did I tell you, Wade? I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sensitive subject, big guy?” Wade’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying himself. “C’mon, I’m just saying—you’ve been pining after her like a lovesick puppy for weeks now. You’re not exactly subtle.”

Logan shot him a glare that could’ve cut steel, but Wade just shrugged, unbothered. “Look, I’ve got a way with the ladies. Maybe I can help you out.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Wade wasn’t listening. His eyes lit up as the door opened, and she walked in, pulling on her apron as she headed behind the bar. Logan tried not to stare, but he felt that familiar pull in his chest, his gaze drawn to her almost against his will. She looked tired, a little more reserved than usual, like something heavy was weighing on her mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if her ex had been causing her trouble again. He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to ask, to do something to make it better.

That’s when Wade got up.

Logan’s stomach tightened as Wade strolled across the bar, his usual cocky swagger on full display. He watched, jaw clenched, as Wade leaned on the bar, flashing her one of his trademark grins. She looked up, startled at first, and Logan saw her eyes flick briefly toward him before settling back on Wade. Her expression softened into a polite, practiced smile, the kind she gave every customer. But Wade wasn’t satisfied with politeness.

He couldn’t hear exactly what Wade was saying due to his jealousy overtaking his senses, but he saw her give a small, hesitant laugh, the kind that looked like she was just being polite. That didn’t matter—Wade was relentless, leaning in closer, gesturing animatedly, probably telling some ridiculous story. After a few moments, Logan saw her laugh again, this time a little more genuine, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

Logan’s fingers tightened around his glass, the jealousy hitting him like a punch to the gut. He tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself it was nothing—just Wade being Wade. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Wade, sensing the effect he was having, shot a glance back at Logan, a smug grin flashing across his face before he turned back to her. Logan’s chest tightened. That bastard. He’d walked over there just to rile him up, and damn it, it was working.

Wade said something else, something that made her laugh again—this time a little louder, though Logan could tell it was still half-hearted, a courtesy laugh to appease the charming stranger who’d decided to bother her during her shift. She wasn’t truly engaged, but the sight of her laughing, even out of politeness, stirred something dark and possessive in Logan’s gut.

He forced himself to look away, taking a long drink to steady himself, but the sound of her laugh lingered, scratching at him. Wade was still leaning on the bar, still talking to her, probably laying it on thick just to make Logan squirm. Logan couldn’t help the flash of irritation that surged through him. It wasn’t like he’d made a claim on her or anything—but seeing Wade so close, making her laugh, it grated on him in a way he hadn’t expected.

After a few agonizing minutes, Wade finally sauntered back over, plopping down across from Logan with a satisfied smirk. Logan’s jaw was still clenched, his gaze flickering over to where she was now wiping down the bar, her expression already back to that familiar, guarded neutrality.

Wade raised an eyebrow, leaning in with a grin. “You see that? Had her laughing in no time. It’s called charm, my friend. You should try it sometime.”

Logan glared at him, his voice low and dangerous. “Cut the crap, Wade.”

“Oh, come on,” Wade chuckled, leaning back with a look of pure amusement. “Don’t be so uptight. If you’re not gonna make a move, someone else will.”

Logan’s fists tightened, and he forced himself to take a slow, steadying breath. “This isn’t a game, Wade.”

Wade shrugged, unbothered. “Never said it was. Just seems like you’re too busy brooding over her from a distance to actually, y’know, do anything.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “You afraid she’ll turn you down? Big, tough Logan afraid of a pretty girl?”

Logan’s nostrils flared, a quiet anger simmering in his chest, but he held back. He wasn’t going to give Wade the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he let his gaze drift back to her, watching as she moved behind the bar, her face calm but distant, like she was deliberately shutting herself off from everything around her.

The truth was, Wade wasn’t entirely wrong. Logan had been keeping his distance, unsure how to approach her, especially with everything going on in her life. He didn’t want to be another complication, another person who made things harder for her. But watching Wade talk to her, seeing that faint, forced smile on her face—it made him realize just how badly he wanted to be the one making her smile, not out of politeness or obligation, but because she actually wanted him there.

Wade leaned in, still smirking. “So? What’s the plan, big guy? You gonna sit here and sulk, or you gonna actually talk to her?”

Logan’s gaze snapped back to him, irritation flaring. “Unlike you, I don’t go around sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Hey, I was just being friendly,” Wade said, raising his hands in mock innocence. “You know, she’s pretty nice once you get her to open up a little. Thought I’d do you a favor, warm her up for you.”

Logan scoffed, but he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his tone. “She’s not some conquest, Wade.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Relax, old man. I’m not trying to steal her. Just trying to get you to wake up and do something about it before she slips away.” He glanced back toward the bar, where she was now stacking glasses, oblivious to their conversation. “You think she’s gonna wait around forever? Women like that don’t stay single long.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his heart pounding with a mixture of frustration and jealousy he couldn’t shake. He took another sip of his drink, forcing himself to keep his gaze on anything else instead of glancing her way again. The truth was, Wade’s words struck too close to home. He’d been holding back, convincing himself that he had time, that he didn’t need to rush things. But seeing her with someone else—even Wade—made him realize how thin that excuse really was.

After a moment, Logan set his glass down, his eyes cold and hard. “You don’t know the first thing about her, Wade.”

Wade shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe not. But neither do you, at this rate.” He flashed another grin, leaning back in his seat. “Look, you’re not gonna scare me off with your brooding, so maybe just… I don’t know, think about it. You might find that going over there and actually talking to her works better than glaring at me.”

Logan didn’t respond, but his gaze drifted back to her, watching as she moved with quiet efficiency, her expression carefully blank. He could still hear her forced laugh echoing in his head, the way she’d seemed to tolerate Wade’s attention rather than welcome it.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. If Wade wasn’t going to back off, maybe it was time to take matters into his own hands.

He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t sit around and let someone else fill the space he’d been too afraid to claim.

Logan slid onto the bar stool in front of her, his presence a solid weight she couldn’t ignore, even though she kept her eyes down, focused on wiping an already-clean spot on the counter. She looked up briefly, her gaze flicking to him before darting away, a faint, polite smile barely gracing her lips.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

“Hi.” She answered quietly, her eyes settling somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but on him. Her hands kept busy, her movements almost mechanical as she straightened the bottles on the bar and rearranged the napkins as if his presence alone made her feel she had to be doing something.

Logan felt a pang of something uncomfortably close to regret. He wasn’t used to this—a woman shrinking away from him, putting up walls before he’d even had a chance to say his piece. The memory of her ex banging on her door flashed through his mind, and he shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, about the other night,” he began, voice rougher than he intended. “I… I didn’t mean to, y’know, step in like that. I just thought—well, it seemed like you needed help.”

She finally looked at him, her gaze sharp and guarded, like she was measuring each word before letting it reach her. “It’s fine,” she said flatly, her tone clipped. “I can handle my own problems.”

Logan swallowed, feeling the rejection like a slap. He knew she was brushing him off, trying to make him back down, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let it go. “Didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t,” he muttered, his voice softer. “Just… didn’t want to see you put in a bad spot.”

She let out a small, humorless laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she busied herself with the glasses on the bar. “Bad spots are part of the package around here, Logan. You don’t need to make it your business.”

He leaned forward slightly, brow furrowing. “Maybe I just don’t like seeing you get hurt.” The words came out more intense than he’d intended, and he saw her stiffen, her hands pausing mid-reach. She looked up, really looked at him, a flash of something unreadable in her eyes—surprise, maybe, or irritation. It was hard to tell.

She took a breath, visibly collecting herself. “Logan… I appreciate the concern, really. But I’m fine.” Her voice was steady but distant like she was pulling herself back behind a wall he couldn’t get through. “This kind of thing… it’s not new to me.”

That didn’t sit right with him, the idea of her having to handle men like her ex, people who didn’t take no for an answer. He wanted to ask her more, to understand what kind of trouble she’d been through, but he knew that line was dangerous. Respect her space, he reminded himself, even as the urge to push gnawed at him.

But he couldn’t help himself. “You don’t… you don’t have anyone else to look out for you?”

Her gaze flicked to him, sharper now, her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just…” He faltered, feeling himself starting to drown in the weight of his awkwardness. “You don’t seem to have anyone around. Family, friends. Someone who could back you up if things got rough.”

She stared at him for a long, tense moment, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a slow, controlled exhale, setting down the glass she’d been wiping with careful deliberation. “Logan, you don’t know me. And frankly, I don’t know you. You and your friend…” She paused, glancing over at Wade, who was lounging at the other end of the bar, eyeing them with an amused grin. “You both keep… hovering. And it’s starting to feel a little strange.”

Logan’s jaw tightened and a wave of frustration and embarrassment crashed over him. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, a bit too defensively. “We’re just… we’re just looking out for you. This place isn’t exactly safe.”

She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “And you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t understand the risks of living here?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, his words failing him. He realized he’d overstepped, pushed too far without thinking. She didn’t need a protector, at least not one who bulldozed into her life without an invitation. And yet, here he was, sitting at her bar, trying to fix things he barely understood.

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “I see you here, night after night, putting up with jerks who don’t know when to quit. You’re not like them. You deserve better.”

Her expression softened, but only slightly, and she glanced away, a distant look in her eyes. “Better,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Right.” She looked back at him, meeting his gaze with something close to resignation. “I don’t need saving, Logan. I’ve been doing just fine without it.”

He swallowed, hating how small those words made him feel. He’d faced down enemies, been through battles that left him scarred in ways she couldn’t imagine, but sitting here under her gaze, he felt exposed, clumsy, like he was fumbling in the dark.

She sighed, glancing down, and for a moment, he saw a hint of vulnerability in her expression—a crack in her armor. “Why are you really here?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you and your friend even bothering with me? I’m just… some bartender.”

Logan hesitated, feeling Wade’s eyes on him from across the room, knowing he was probably getting a kick out of watching him squirm. But this was more than just Wade’s meddling. This was him, unable to walk away, pulled back to her time and time again for reasons he couldn’t explain.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he said finally, his voice low, but steady. “You’re… different. Strong. I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I know I’m not good with words, but… I see you here, and I just keep thinking you deserve more than this.”

She looked at him, her guarded expression softening, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw something crack beneath the surface—a glimmer of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded. But then, just as quickly, she pulled back, straightening, her walls going up again.

“Oh, so I’m a charity case now?” she murmured, her voice tight and distant, the hint of anger simmering beneath her words. She crossed her arms, shifting her weight as she looked him over, her gaze cold and appraising. “Look, I told you—I don’t need anyone looking out for me, especially not some guy who doesn’t know when he’s made someone uncomfortable.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, each one sinking in deep. Logan’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He felt his face go hot, a mix of shame and frustration twisting inside him. He wanted to explain himself, to tell her he hadn’t meant it that way—but the look on her face told him that anything he said now would only make things worse.

“I—” he started, then stopped, swallowing hard. She kept her eyes on him, unblinking, her expression hard as steel. He could see it now—the line he’d crossed, the space he’d invaded without thinking. He’d thought he was helping, protecting her, but all he’d done was make her feel trapped.

She took a breath, exhaling slowly as she glanced away, her jaw clenched. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Guys like you think you’re doing me a favor, stepping in, trying to… ‘protect’ me. But all you’re doing is making me feel like I can’t handle my own life. Like I’m weak. And I’m not.”

Logan clenched his fists under the bar, forcing himself to stay quiet, to listen. He’d been on the other side of this before—people assuming things about him, trying to fix things they didn’t understand. Now, for the first time, he realized he was doing the same thing to her. He looked down, shame tightening in his chest.

She shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “You barely know me, Logan. You have no idea what I’ve been through. And I’m not interested in becoming some project for you to fix or some one-night stand.”

Her words stung, cutting through the last shreds of his defensiveness. He’d been telling himself he was looking out for her, that she needed someone to stand up for her. But now he could see how it must have looked to her—some guy she barely knew, showing up again and again, prying into her life, acting like he knew better.

He cleared his throat, voice rough. “You’re right,” he said quietly, finally meeting her gaze. “I… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

She watched him, her eyes softened just a fraction, though the wariness remained. He could feel the weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him, making him feel clumsy and exposed.

“Look,” she said, her tone gentler but still guarded, “I appreciate whatever it is you’re trying to do. Really. But you don’t get to decide what I need. That’s my choice. And if I want help, I’ll ask for it.”

He nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of relief and regret. He could sense the walls she’d put up, and he knew now that he was part of the reason they were there.

He stood up, feeling the weight of her words settle over him like a cold ache. “Right. Sorry if we made things weird,” he muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Didn’t mean to… overstep.”

For the first time, she seemed to soften, her gaze losing some of its hardness. She let out a long breath, looking down at the bar as if collecting her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was almost kind, but there was an edge to it, a reminder.

“Just… maybe think twice before you go around trying to be someone’s hero,” she said, her lips curving into a faint, sad smile.

Logan felt the weight of her words settle over him, heavier than anything he’d carried in a long time. He nodded, swallowing back the urge to say more. For once, he knew he needed to let her have the last word.

She turned away, her attention shifting to a group of customers at the other end of the bar. She moved with quiet efficiency, her shoulders tense but steady, shutting him out completely.

Logan stood there for a moment, feeling the full sting of her rejection, the ache of realizing he’d overstepped in ways he couldn’t take back. She didn’t look at him again, didn’t acknowledge his presence, and he knew he’d lost whatever fragile connection they’d had.

“Smooth, as always,” Wade drawled, leaning back with an infuriating grin.

Logan ignored him, his jaw clenched tight as he sat down. He’d thought he was protecting her but all he’d done was drive her further away. 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The past few days, Logan had kept a low profile, barely leaving the apartment except to grab food or take out the trash. He didn’t want to risk running into her—not after the way she’d shut him down, her words echoing in his mind like a bruise that wouldn’t fade. She’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need his help, and he’d gotten the message. Loud and clear.

But tonight, Wade had barged in with new intel from Stryker. Apparently, their elusive journalist was on the move, spotted hanging around one of the local clubs. Logan hadn’t been in the mood to play dress-up and join the nightlife, but he didn’t have much choice. Stryker was breathing down their necks, and if this was their best shot at tracking the guy down, he couldn’t let it slip by.

So he’d reluctantly thrown on a clean shirt and made the walk a few blocks down to the club, Wade at his side, chattering nonstop as they reached the entrance.

“It’s a bit nicer than the bar we live above,” Wade noted, casting a glance around the neon-lit exterior with approval. A line of people waited outside, all glittering dresses and sharp suits, laughter, and perfume filling the warm night air. Wade smirked, nudging Logan with his elbow. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you can find another pretty girl to make up for your last crash-and-burn.”

Logan rolled his eyes, ignoring Wade’s jab. “We’re here to find the journalist. Stay focused,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as they made their way inside. The club was dimly lit, pulsing with low red and blue lights that throbbed to the beat of the music. Bodies moved on the dance floor, a tangle of arms and laughter and heat, and Logan felt a familiar irritation simmering under his skin. Clubs weren’t his scene. Too loud, too crowded, too many damn people.

He forced himself to concentrate, sniffing the air, trying to pick up any hint of their target’s scent. But the mix of sweat, cologne, and spilled alcohol made it nearly impossible to pick up anything distinctive. He scanned the crowd, his eyes narrowing as he tried to catch sight of anyone who looked remotely like the guy they were hunting.

But then he saw her.

At first, he thought he was imagining it—a trick of the lights, or just his mind playing cruel games. But no. It was her, standing near the edge of the dance floor, laughing at something some woman was saying. She looked… different. Completely different from the guarded, quiet bartender he’d met. Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and her lips were painted a glossy, tempting shade that caught the light every time she smiled. She wore a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, showing off a side of her he’d never seen before, a side he hadn’t even known existed.

Logan’s mouth went dry, and for a moment, he forgot why he was even there. All he could think about was her—the way she moved, the easy smile on her face, the way her laughter seemed to cut through the noise of the club like it was meant for him alone. He’d been trying to avoid her, trying to keep his distance, but seeing her like this, carefree and vibrant… pulled him in, like a magnet he couldn’t resist.

Wade must have noticed his distraction, because he gave Logan a light smack on the shoulder, pulling him out of his trance. “Logan, buddy, don’t tell me you’re still stuck on her,” Wade said, his tone half-amused, half-annoyed. “I swear, I’ve never seen you this pathetic over anyone. Rejection’s hitting you hard, huh?”

Logan shook his head, forcing himself to tear his gaze away, though his eyes kept drifting back to her. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, more to himself than to Wade. “We’re here for the journalist. Just… keep your eyes open.”

Wade wasn’t buying it. He crossed his arms, smirking. “Oh, I’m keeping my eyes open, all right. You, on the other hand…” He whistled, nodding in her direction. “You’re about one second away from abandoning the mission to go talk to her. I mean, come on. If you’re that obsessed, just go over there already.”

Logan clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to punch Wade then and there. But a part of him hated that Wade was right. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since their last conversation, and now, seeing her like this, he was barely holding himself back.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he started making his way across the crowded floor, ignoring Wade’s low chuckle behind him. As he approached, she turned slightly, her gaze sweeping over the crowd until it landed on him. Her smile faltered, surprise flickering in her eyes before she quickly masked it, her face shifting into something more guarded.

“Logan,” she said, her tone cautious, almost as if she were bracing herself. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling out of place, unsure what to say. “Yeah. Didn’t expect to see you either,” he replied, his voice gruffer than he intended. “You… uh, you look different.” He instantly regretted it, realizing how awkward it sounded.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Different?”

“Good different,” he amended quickly, his cheeks warming. Real smooth, Logan, he thought, mentally kicking himself. 

She glanced away, a faint frown tugging at her lips.“Thanks I guess,” she said, then gestured to her friend, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed interest. “I’m just here with my friend, Monica. She thought it was a good idea for girls’ night and dragged me out.” He could see a flash of uncomfortableness before she masked it.

Logan nodded, his mind racing, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a fool. But before he could gather his thoughts, her friend nudged her playfully, smirking at Logan.

“So, this is the guy you told me about?” Monica asked, her eyes dancing with mischief.

She shot Monica a warning look, her cheeks flushing. “I… I didn’t tell you that much,” she muttered, casting a quick, embarrassed glance at Logan.

A flicker of hope stirred in his chest. She talked about me? He tried not to let it show, but the thought sent a spark through him, making him stand a little straighter.

Monica gave her a knowing smile, then leaned closer to Logan, lowering her voice. “Just so you know, she’s been playing hard to get for a reason. But maybe she’s finally ready to let someone in.”

Logan looked at her, the guarded woman he’d met behind the bar now looking distinctly uncomfortable, her cheeks flushed a warm pink. She looked away, biting her lip, and he realized she was just as thrown off-balance as he was.

For a moment, they stood in silence, the thrum of the club’s music pulsing around them, the energy of the room fading into the background. All he could see was her—her flushed cheeks, the slight nervousness in her gaze, the softness in her expression that he’d never seen before.

Monica sighed dramatically, looking between them with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Oh, look at that. I need another drink,” she announced, clearly not needing one at all. She winked at her friend. “Plus, I think I see a cute guy over there. You two… have fun.” With one last grin, she slipped away, disappearing into the crowd and leaving them alone.

Logan took a steadying breath, forcing himself to look her in the eyes, to say what he’d been meaning to since their last conversation. “Listen… about the other night,” he began, voice low and careful. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She hesitated, searching his face. He held her gaze, hoping she could see he meant it. For a moment, he thought he saw the walls she kept around herself soften, just a little. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the thrum of the music. “It’s just… I’m not used to people getting involved in my life.”

Logan nodded, understanding more than he could put into words. “I’m not exactly used to… letting people in either.” The confession felt strange on his tongue, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t planned, but it was the truth. He could see that she understood, her expression shifting from guarded to something softer, that made his heart beat a little faster.

They stood there, inches apart, the pulse of the club and the chatter of people fading into the background. Logan wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, to bridge that last bit of distance between them, but he held back, waiting for her lead.

After a moment, she gave him a tentative smile. “Did Wade drag you out here?” she asked, the tension easing just a bit as a hint of humor crept into her voice.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “What makes you think that?”

She shrugged, glancing away shyly. “You don’t… you’re like me,” she said, fumbling over her words. “I just didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy who’d want to go to a club.”

He smiled, trying to put her at ease. “I go to bars all the time. Almost the same thing, right?”

She let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t drink, but Monica always drags me out, says it’s ‘good for me.’” She made air quotes, rolling her eyes slightly.

“I know.” Logan’s face went hot. “I mean, I remember you don’t drink. That’s why… well, I guess that’s why I was surprised to see you here.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his footing. “But you look… different tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow, her expression growing cautious. “You already said that. Do you make it a habit to repeat yourself?”

Logan fumbled for the right words, suddenly feeling like a teenager on his first date. “I mean…you look beautiful tonight,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. His gaze flicked over her, taking her in again.

She went very still, her eyes searching his face. For a second, he thought he’d finally broken through to her, that maybe she could see how much he meant it. But then her expression shifted, her lips pressing together, her eyes hardening. She looked down, and he could see her shoulders tense, her arms wrapping around herself as if she were closing off.

“Oh,” she said quietly, a forced, brittle smile tugging at her lips. “So… what? I only look beautiful when I’m dressed up? When I’m… like this?”

Logan’s eyes widened, realization hitting him like a slap. “No—no, that’s not what I meant.”

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper as she looked away. “I knew it was stupid to come out tonight,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Guess I’m just someone you feel sorry for? Want to just take pity on?”

“Hey, no—” Logan reached for her arm instinctively, but she pulled back, her face turning away to hide the tears welling in her eyes. The sight made his chest tighten, guilt flooding him as he realized just how badly he’d misstepped.

“I thought maybe…” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, brushing a hand quickly across her cheek. “Never mind.” She looked back at him, her eyes glossy, her expression one of hurt and frustration. “Forget it, Logan. I don’t need this.”

“Wait,” he said, desperate now, his voice thick with regret. “It’s not pity. I just… I wanted you to know that I—”

She didn’t let him finish. With a tight, broken smile, she turned on her heel, pushing her way through the crowd and disappearing into the pulsing mass of bodies on the dance floor. He stood there, frozen, watching her slip away, her silhouette vanishing into the blur of lights and movement.

Logan felt an ache settle deep in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in. He’d tried so hard to find the right thing to say, to make her see how he felt—but all he’d done was confirm her worst fears, making her feel like he only saw her worth when she was dressed up, made up, transformed into someone she thought he’d want.

He stood there for a moment, lost in the noise and the lights, feeling the regret gnawing at him like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

Behind him, Wade sidled up, taking in Logan’s expression with a low whistle. “Well, that looked like it went well.”

Logan glared at him, too frustrated to respond. Wade shook his head, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Man, you’re really a disaster with women, you know that?”

Logan clenched his fists, ignoring Wade’s taunts as he scanned the crowd, hoping for another glimpse of her, even though he knew she wouldn’t want to see him right now. He’d messed up, probably worse than he’d ever messed up anything before. But he couldn’t just leave it like this. Not when she was the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind.

Without a word to Wade, he pushed through the crowd, determination hardening in his chest. He didn’t know how he was going to fix this, but he knew one thing—he wasn’t going to let her slip away again. Not like this.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan spotted her near the dimly lit hallway by the bathrooms, sitting on the floor with her legs curled up to her chest, her face buried in her arms. The sight stopped him. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and the thought that he’d been the one to put that hurt in her eyes twisted something painful inside him. He knew he should leave her alone—she’d already told him to. But he couldn’t. Not when he felt the ache of her words as if they’d been carved into him.

He took a cautious step closer, clearing his throat. “Hey… I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the muffled thump of music from the club. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She looked up, her eyes red and swollen from crying, and the guilt hit him all over again. Her gaze was sharp, guarded, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath it—a weariness like she was tired of feeling this way.

“Just go away, Logan,” she said, her voice wavering as she hugged her knees tighter. “Haven’t you done enough?”

He wanted to reach out, to touch her shoulder, anything to make this right, but he held back, forcing himself to respect her space. “Please,” he said, his voice rough. “Just… hear me out. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She let out a bitter laugh, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s not your fault,” she said, cutting him off. Her voice was shaky and raw, but there was a surprising steadiness underneath like she was trying to take control of her pain. “I… I overthink things. I read too much into what people say.”

Logan shook his head, his brow furrowing. “But I should’ve been more careful with my words. I—”

“It’s not about you, Logan,” she interrupted, her gaze dropping to the floor. She took a shaky breath as if she were forcing herself to let him see a piece of herself she usually kept hidden. “All my life, I’ve only ever felt… I don’t know, noticed… when I was all dressed up. People would tell me I was beautiful, but only when I was like this,” she gestured to her dress, her makeup, the polished version of herself that she’d put on tonight. “And somewhere along the line, I guess I just started to believe that’s all there was to me. That if I wasn’t done up, I didn’t… matter.”

Logan’s chest tightened as he listened, his discomfort fading in the face of her honesty. He understood, more than she realized. He knew what it felt like to wear a mask, to be seen in a way that didn’t match who you were.

“Look, I get it,” he said softly, his voice thick. “I know what it’s like to feel like… like you’re on the outside. Like people only see a part of you and ignore the rest.”

She let out a short, almost bitter laugh, her gaze flicking over him, taking in the rugged, handsome man who had sat next to her. “You? An outsider?” she said, the skepticism clear in her voice. “Come on, Logan. Look at you. How could someone like you know what it feels like to not… fit?”

He swallowed, feeling the old scars hidden beneath the surface ache in response to her words. “You’d be surprised,” he murmured, his gaze distant for a moment as he stared at the wall across from them. “People see what they want to see. This…” He gestured vaguely to himself, his broad shoulders, his gruff exterior. “It’s just armor. Doesn’t mean I fit in. Doesn’t mean I feel at home anywhere.”

She went quiet, studying him with a new kind of curiosity, like she was seeing a side of him she hadn’t expected. Her expression softened, and for a moment, the two of them sat in silence, the thumping bass of the club seeming to fade into the background, leaving them in their own little world.

“I didn’t know…” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.

Logan shrugged, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I’m not saying it’s the same. Just… I get it. You feel like you have to be something else, just to be seen. But you don’t. You’re worth a hell of a lot more than some fancy dress and makeup.”

She blinked, looking down, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “I… I don’t know how to believe that,” she admitted, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

He felt a strange surge of protectiveness, an urge to make her see herself the way he did. “You don’t have to believe it all at once,” he said softly. “Just… start small. You’re here, right? That’s a start.”

She looked up at him, a faint glimmer of hope mixed with hesitation in her eyes. “You really think so?”

Logan nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Yeah. I do.” He hesitated, then added, “And for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean that you’re only beautiful like this. I meant… I just meant that you looked happy. You looked… free. That’s what I saw.”

A soft, surprised smile tugged at her lips, and he felt a flicker of relief, like maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t ruined everything.

“I guess… I guess I did feel a little free tonight,” she admitted, her voice tentative, like she was still testing the idea out.

They sat there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Logan felt the weight of her gaze, his eyes shifting to look down at her glossy lips. He didn’t understand why it stirred something deep inside him. 

Finally, she looked away, clearing her throat. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing up at him with a tentative smile. “For… understanding. And for not letting me just sit here feeling sorry for myself.”

“Anytime,” Logan replied, his voice a soft, steady rumble, grounding her.

They stayed like that, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her shoulder, neither of them moving to fill the space between them. It was rare for him to feel like this—like he could just be here, be himself, and have that be enough. She seemed to relax, letting herself breathe in his presence, a hint of comfort settling into her expression.

But then her friend’s voice sliced through the moment, loud and slightly tipsy, echoing down the hallway. “There you are!” Monica stumbled to a halt, her eyes narrowing the second she noticed the red around her friend’s eyes, the tear tracks still faintly visible on her cheeks. Monica’s gaze shot to Logan, her eyes flashing with instant, protective suspicion. “What the hell? Did this guy—”

She quickly got to her feet, hands up in reassurance, cheeks flushing. “No, no, it’s fine,” she said, glancing back at Logan with an apologetic look. “Logan didn’t do anything.”

Monica crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “You swear? Because I’m pretty sure I could kick his ass, even if he’s big.”

Logan almost laughed, but he held back, just giving a slight shake of his head. “I’m harmless,” he muttered, though the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Monica narrowed her eyes, looking between them with obvious doubt. “Fine. I’ll let it go… for now.” She slipped her arm around her friend’s shoulders, lowering her voice. “But hey, I found someone way more fun than this brooding guy. He’s tall, dark, and cute as hell,” Monica said, shooting Logan a sideways look. “Let’s go, yeah?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering back to Logan, lingering there for a moment. He could see the indecision in her eyes, the hint of a question, like she wasn’t entirely ready to walk away. Part of him wanted to reach out, to tell her to stay, to keep talking, but he bit the words back. He knew she didn’t owe him anything, and he wasn’t about to guilt her into staying.

She gave him a small, reluctant smile, a little sad around the edges. “I… I’ll see you around, Logan,” she said softly like she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Yeah,” he replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Take care.”

With one last glance, she let Monica tug her back toward the crowded, neon-lit main room, disappearing into the sea of people. Logan stayed where he was, the ache in his chest unfamiliar and raw. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, but he’d seen the uncertainty in her eyes, the pull between her friend and whatever connection they’d shared just moments before. And he couldn’t blame her for choosing the friend who’d stood by her through who-knew-what, instead of the stranger who’d stumbled into her life.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He’d almost forgotten why he was even here, but the reality of it settled back over him like a cold splash of water. The mission. The damn journalist.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself off the wall, heading back into the main area to find Wade, hoping he’d at least managed to keep his eye on their target. But as he scanned the crowd, a familiar laugh caught his attention, coming from the back corner of the club.

He sighed, already knowing what he’d find.

Sure enough, Wade was slouched in a booth with some girl draped over him, her fingers tangled in his hair, her lipstick smudged against his cheek. They were laughing, Wade’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist, clearly oblivious to everything else.

Logan clenched his fists, feeling a fresh wave of irritation rise. He pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of the booth, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to be working, remember?”

Wade looked up, still grinning, completely unbothered. “Oh, hey, Logan!” he slurred, throwing an arm out as if he were inviting Logan to join in on the fun. “Lighten up, man. Haven’t seen you all night. What, were you off getting cozy with your lady friend?”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “We have a job to do, Wade. You know, finding the journalist? Stryker’s going to be thrilled if we come back empty-handed because you were too busy making out in the corner.”

Wade just laughed, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Relax, Logan. We’ve been chasing this guy for weeks, and he hasn’t shown up once. If he’s even here, he’s not coming out till way later. Might as well have a little fun while we wait.”

Logan shot a glare at Wade’s “date,” who giggled and nuzzled closer, clearly not bothered by the tension. He felt his patience snap, his frustration boiling over. All night, he’d been on edge, caught between his need to finish the job and the emotions he couldn’t quite bury when it came to her. And now here was Wade, throwing it all away for a quick thrill.

“Fine,” Logan bit out, his voice low. “You go ahead and have your fun, Wade. I’m finishing this myself.”

Wade chuckled, unfazed. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that, man. It’s just one night. Besides…” He shot Logan a knowing look. “I saw the way you looked at her. Maybe you should be thanking me. Gave you a chance to make a move.”

Logan didn’t respond, but Wade’s words hit uncomfortably close to the truth. He had been distracted. He’d let his focus slip, and now he was paying for it.

Without another word, Logan turned on his heel and stalked away, pushing through the crowd toward the exit. The night air hit him like a slap, cool and bracing, but it didn’t do much to ease the frustration roiling inside him. He’d let Wade derail the mission, let his own emotions cloud his judgment, and now the whole thing felt like a waste.

As he started down the street, his mind drifted back to her—the way she’d looked at him, the faint trace of hurt in her eyes before she’d walked away. He clenched his fists, a new determination hardening in his chest. He might have blown this mission tonight, but he wasn’t done. Not with the mission, and not with her.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan had barely made it back to the apartment before exhaustion took hold, weighing down his limbs. He kicked off his boots and peeled off his shirt, letting it drop carelessly to the floor before sinking onto the bed. His mind was still tangled with thoughts of her—her quiet smile, the guarded look in her eyes, the way she’d walked away with her friend’s encouragement. He’d messed things up, and the night felt like one long series of missed chances.

He’d only been asleep for a couple of hours when a noise jolted him awake. At first, he thought it was part of some half-formed nightmare or maybe just the usual racket from one of the neighbors. But then he caught something familiar—her voice, muffled through the thin walls. He strained his hearing, every instinct snapping to attention. A glance at the grimy clock on his nightstand told him it was 1:29 a.m.

She must have just gotten home. But she wasn’t alone.

Logan sat up, his heartbeat quickening. He knew he should let it go, should just lie back down and ignore whatever was happening on the other side of the wall. But before he could think better of it, he slipped out of bed, padding across the creaky floorboards to the front door. He pressed his ear to the wall, barely breathing, his heightened senses picking up every word.

The guy’s voice was low and easy, with that too-smooth tone Logan had learned to distrust. He sounded friendly enough, but there was an edge of expectation, a subtle suggestion that grated against Logan’s nerves.

“So… tonight was fun,” the guy was saying, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Maybe we could do it again? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Logan could picture her expression without even seeing it—those walls going up, that faint, polite smile she used when she didn’t want to let someone in. He heard her let out a soft sigh.

“I’m… not really sure about tomorrow,” she replied, her voice guarded, cautious. “I have a lot going on.”

The guy chuckled, but there was a forced quality to it. “Come on, just a drink or something. You don’t have to play so hard to get, you know?”

Logan felt his jaw clench, his hands curling into fists at his sides. The guy was pushing, trying to wear down her resistance, and it grated on him like sandpaper. He didn’t like the way it sounded, didn’t like the edge in the guy’s voice like he thought he could charm his way past her boundaries. Logan’s instinct to protect her flared, raw, and almost territorial, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way.

There was a pause, and he could hear her shifting, probably stepping back, putting a little distance between them. “It’s not that,” she said, a little too politely. “I just… need some space, that’s all. Tonight was nice, but—”

“Space, huh?” the guy interrupted, his tone slipping from charming to something a little sharper. “You know, you don’t make it easy, do you?”

Logan could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, the urge to step outside and tell this guy to back off building with each word. But he held himself in check, forcing himself to stay silent, to let her handle it. She didn’t need him barging in like some kind of white knight, as much as he wanted to.

Another pause, and he heard her take a breath, steady but firm. “I appreciate tonight. Really. But I’m not looking for… anything serious.”

The guy let out a huff, barely masking his disappointment. “All right,” he said, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t happy about it. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

Logan listened, tense, as he heard the guy’s footsteps retreating down the hallway. Only when he heard the click of her door closing did he let out the breath he’d been holding. His fists unclenched, but the tension in his chest didn’t ease. He knew she’d handled it. She didn’t need him intervening. But the way the guy had pushed, the subtle pressure in his tone… made Logan’s blood simmer.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped into the hallway, moving quietly until he reached her door. He hesitated, one hand raised, hovering just above the wood. Part of him knew he should just let it be, go back to his apartment, and leave her alone. But he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him, the urge to make sure she was really all right.

He knocked, softly at first, then a little louder when he didn’t hear anything.

A moment later, the door cracked open, and she peered out, eyes widening when she saw him. She looked tired, her makeup smudged, a faint crease of worry lingering between her brows. “Logan?” she said, sounding surprised, her voice soft and uncertain. “What are you…?”

He swallowed, his voice coming out rougher than he’d meant. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay. I heard him… y’know. Talking.”

She sighed, glancing back into her apartment for a moment before opening the door a little wider. “You were listening?” she asked, a faint hint of annoyance in her tone.

Logan shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just… wanted to make sure he didn’t give you any trouble.”

She looked at him, her expression softening, the guardedness melting away just a little. “It’s fine, Logan. Really. He was… nice, mostly. Just… maybe he wanted something I’m not ready to give.”

Logan nodded, relief mingling with an odd sense of satisfaction at her words. “Good. That he’s gone, I mean.” He hesitated, then added, quieter, “I just didn’t like the way he sounded. Like he thought he could… push you around.”

Her lips pressed into a faint smile, something close to gratitude in her eyes. “Thanks. But I can handle guys like that.” She let out a tired laugh. “I’ve been handling guys like that for a while now.”

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze searching hers. “Yeah. I know you can.” He paused, then added, almost reluctantly, “But you don’t have to do it alone, y’know. If anyone bothers you… I’m right across the hall.”

She looked up at him, her eyes lingering on his face, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of vulnerability there—a quiet gratitude she wasn’t quite ready to express. But then she shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Logan,” she murmured. “But… I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep an eye on me. I don’t want to be someone’s… responsibility.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I just… I care. That’s all.”

Her eyes softened, and she looked away, swallowing hard. “I don’t see why you care. Why you would…given…we barely know each other.” She paused, carefully considering her words. “But it’s been a long time since someone cared,” she admitted quietly, almost as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Logan could feel the weight of her words hanging in the air. He reached out, his hand hovering just above her shoulder, but he stopped himself, dropping his hand before it made contact.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he said, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here.”

She gave him a small, hesitant smile, a hint of hope breaking through the walls she kept so carefully in place. “Thank you, Logan.”

He nodded, stepping back to give her space, though he didn’t want to leave. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

She nodded, watching him as he turned to go, lingering in the doorway as if part of her didn’t want to close the door just yet. As he walked back to his apartment, he felt something shift in him—a quiet, steady resolve to be there, to be someone she could trust.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan was pacing back and forth in the small, dingy apartment, so agitated that even Wade seemed annoyed for once. Wade lounged on the couch, a magazine in one hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face as he watched Logan wearing a path into the floor.

“Why are you like this?” Wade finally snapped, tossing the magazine aside. “Did your parents not love you, or something? Because this level of brooding is painful to watch, even for me.”

Logan shot him a glare, but he didn’t have a comeback this time. His usual sarcasm was buried under a mess of thoughts he couldn’t quite untangle. He ran a hand through his hair, his voice coming out quieter, almost hesitant. “It’s just… she actually seemed like she wanted to talk to me last night. Like, really talk.”

Wade rolled his eyes, folding his arms behind his head. “God, I don’t see how I keep missing your late-night heart-to-hearts in the hallway,” he said with exaggerated interest. “Sounds like you’re one step away from serenading her or something.”

Logan’s eyes kept drifting to the door, that nagging worry gnawing at him. He hadn’t heard her leave her apartment all morning, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, Wade sat up, giving him a pointed look. “Look, man, there’s only one way to stop acting like a lovesick teenager. Just go knock on her door. You’re driving me nuts over here.”

Logan hesitated, shifting his weight. Part of him hated the idea of just showing up unannounced, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of urgency. He needed to see her, to know she was okay. Before he could talk himself out of it, he gave Wade a grudging nod and headed for the door.

"Finally," Wade muttered behind him, smirking. "Go get her, tiger."

Logan ignored him, stepping into the dim hallway. He crossed the few steps to her apartment, his hand hovering just above the door. He took a breath, steadying himself, then knocked—softly at first, then louder when there was no response.

Silence.

He waited, his heartbeat picking up as seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. He knocked again, pressing his ear to the door, straining to hear any movement inside. But there was nothing. No footsteps, no soft shuffle of her usual routine. An uneasy feeling crept over him. He hadn’t heard her leave that morning. Had he missed something? Was she—

Just then, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps echoing up the stairwell, and he turned, relief flooding him. But the relief was short-lived, quickly turning into confusion as he took in the scene.

She was coming up the stairs, but she wasn’t alone. Walking beside her was the guy from last night—the one her friend had set her up with. The guy was laughing, leaning a little too close to her, and Logan felt his jaw tighten instinctively. She had her arms crossed, her posture guarded but polite, and though she didn’t look particularly comfortable, she wasn’t pushing him away either.

Logan stood frozen, his hand still raised as if to knock, caught between relief and a prickling sense of jealousy. She looked up and noticed him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“Logan,” she said, stopping on the landing. Her voice was a mix of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite place—maybe guilt, or hesitation.

The guy at her side glanced between them, raising an eyebrow. “Oh… hey,” he said, clearly picking up on the tension in the air. He smiled awkwardly, extending a hand. “I’m Jared. I, uh… guess you’re a neighbor?”

Logan didn’t take his hand, barely sparing him a glance. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and rough. His eyes were fixed on her, searching her face, trying to read her expression.

She shifted uncomfortably, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “We… just ran into each other downstairs,” she explained, her gaze flicking between Logan and Jared. “He was just walking me up.”

Jared chuckled, clearly oblivious to the undercurrent in the air. “Yeah, thought I’d make sure she got back safe, y’know? This neighborhood’s not exactly the friendliest.”

Logan felt a surge of irritation, but he forced himself to stay calm, to keep his expression neutral. “She can handle herself,” he replied, the words coming out sharper than he intended. He saw her flinch and instantly regretted it, but he couldn’t help the tension coiling in his chest.

Jared blinked, clearly sensing he wasn’t welcome, and took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right, man. No need to get territorial,” he said with a forced laugh. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He turned to her, flashing a hopeful smile. “So… maybe we could catch up tomorrow? Grab a coffee or something?”

She hesitated, glancing briefly at Logan before nodding, though her smile looked a little forced. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll… let you know.”

Jared grinned, clearly taking that as a yes, and gave a little wave before heading back down the stairs. Logan watched him go, barely breathing until the sound of his footsteps faded completely. Only then did he turn to her, his expression softening as he searched her face.

“Did… you need something?” she asked, her gaze lingering on him, one eyebrow raised in quiet suspicion.

Logan cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to knock on her door, but now that he was here, his brain seemed to be working at half-speed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and forcing himself to meet her eyes. “I was wondering if you had… y’know… some eggs I could borrow.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but he saw the faintest flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Eggs?” she repeated like she was testing the word.

Logan felt himself growing more flustered. “Yeah. Eggs. They’re… good for protein,” he added lamely, the words sounding as awkward out loud as they felt in his head.

She watched him for a moment, clearly trying to decide if she believed him or not. A small, skeptical smile played at the corner of her lips like she could see right through his excuse but was willing to humor him.

“Sure. I think I’ve got some,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in while I go grab them from the kitchen.”

Logan hesitated, then nodded, slipping past her into the apartment. The warmth of her space hit him immediately, and he found himself surprised by how… homey it was. The faint scent of vanilla and something floral hung in the air, and soft lighting cast a cozy glow over everything. It was nothing like the dingy, bare-bones apartment he shared with Wade. Where his walls were chipped and peeling, hers were lined with neatly hung prints and framed photographs, small touches that gave the place a warmth he hadn’t expected.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, he let his gaze wander, taking in the shelves along one wall, filled with books. Dozens of them, all stacked neatly, some with worn covers and dog-eared pages, like they’d been read and re-read over the years. He noticed a mix of genres—mystery novels, classic literature, a few non-fiction titles, and even some poetry. It was the kind of collection that spoke to someone who spent a lot of time alone, lost in worlds beyond these walls.

He moved closer to one of the shelves, fingers ghosting over the spines without touching. A few books were stacked horizontally, others arranged by height. There was a kind of organized chaos to it, a personal touch that made him feel like he was seeing a side of her he hadn’t glimpsed before. He felt a strange pang of… something. Envy, maybe, or admiration. This was her space, her sanctuary, carefully built to be hers. And here he was, intruding on it.

“Didn’t peg you for a reader,” her voice came from behind him, light and teasing.

Logan turned, a bit flustered, caught off guard by her sudden reappearance. She held a carton of eggs in one hand, watching him with that same amused expression, like she knew he was lying about the whole “egg” thing but was willing to let it slide.

“I, uh…” He scratched the back of his head, feeling like he’d been caught red-handed. “Not really. Don’t have time for it.”

She shrugged, giving him a small smile as she set the egg carton on the counter. “Reading isn’t for everyone.”

He nodded, still taking in her apartment, feeling a strange comfort settle over him in the warmth of her space. “It’s… nice in here,” he admitted, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Didn’t expect it to feel so… I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So what?”

“Homey, I guess,” he said, almost embarrassed to admit it. “My place… it’s nothing like this.”

A faint, sympathetic smile softened her face. “Well, your roommate doesn’t exactly scream ‘homey,’” she teased, glancing around as if imagining Wade sprawled across her carefully arranged furniture, disrupting the calm. “Not really surprised you don’t put much into decorating.”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Yeah. Wade’s more… chaos than cozy.”

She laughed softly, a genuine, relaxed sound that made his chest feel unexpectedly warm. “I can’t even picture him reading a book.”

“Pretty sure he’d complain about the ‘small font’ and give up in five minutes,” Logan muttered, and she laughed again, a light, melodic sound that filled the space in a way that felt… right.

For a moment, they stood there in comfortable silence, the unspoken tension between them somehow lessened by the simple act of sharing a space. He glanced at the egg carton, feeling a little foolish now that he had no real reason to stay.

“Thanks for the eggs,” he mumbled, reaching for the carton but not quite moving to leave. “Didn’t need them, if I’m honest.”

She tilted her head, a knowing look in her eyes. “Yeah, I figured,” she said, her voice gentle but laced with amusement. “So… why did you come by?”

Logan hesitated, feeling a sudden vulnerability he wasn’t used to. “I guess… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. After last night, and then seeing you with that guy this morning…” He trailed off, running a hand over his face. “It just didn’t sit right with me.”

Her expression softened, and she looked down, fingers tracing absent patterns on the counter. “Jared,” she said as if the name left a sour taste. “Monica’s idea. She thinks I need to ‘put myself out there.’” She rolled her eyes, a faint bitterness creeping into her tone. “It’s not really my thing, but… I figured I’d try.”

Logan studied her, catching the flicker of doubt in her eyes. “You didn’t seem too thrilled with him,” he observed, trying to keep his tone casual.

She shrugged, her smile a little sad. “He’s… nice. I just don’t know if ‘nice’ is enough.” She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary. “I guess I’ve got my own walls. Maybe it’s easier to push people away than to… let them in.”

Logan felt his chest tighten, recognizing himself in her words. “Yeah. I know how that goes,” he murmured, his voice low. “People tend to… make assumptions, think they know you just because of how you look or act. Sometimes it’s easier to let them believe what they want.”

She nodded, her gaze dropping again, her fingers still tracing absent shapes on the counter. “And what do people assume about you?” she asked, almost too softly.

He swallowed, feeling a familiar pang of vulnerability that he usually kept buried. “They see… this,” he said, gesturing to himself, to the rough exterior, the scars that lined his knuckles, the tension that seemed to live in his shoulders. “And they think I’m nothing but that. Just… rough edges. An animal.”

She looked up, her gaze soft and understanding, and he felt that ache again, the need to be seen, really seen. “You’re not just that,” she said quietly, her words barely more than a whisper. “I can see that you're more than that…now.”

A warmth lingered between them, subtle but undeniable. Logan could feel it settling over him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. Standing here, in her space, surrounded by traces of her life, he felt an unfamiliar sense of belonging—like, for once, he wasn’t just some outsider passing through.

She let out a small sigh, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Anyway,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, almost shy. “Thanks for checking on me.”

He nodded, swallowing back the impulse to reach out, to close the last inch of space between them. “Yeah. Anytime,” he said, his voice softer than he intended.

She led him to the door, holding it open as he stepped into the dim hallway. Logan hesitated, lingering just outside her apartment, feeling a strange reluctance to leave. The words were out of his mouth before he could second-guess himself.

“Would you… maybe want to come over?” He forced a small, awkward smile. “I’m sure Wade would love the company.”

She looked up at him, her expression caught between surprise and something softer. A small smile touched her lips, but she shook her head, a hint of apology in her eyes. “I would, but… being around people sort of… drains me.”

He watched her, sensing there was more she wasn’t saying, something fragile behind the simple explanation.

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the door, her gaze flickering up to meet his. “Not you, though,” she added softly, almost as if the words had slipped out without her permission. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away quickly. “Just… people in general. Introvert thing, I guess.”

Logan felt a flicker of something warm and unfamiliar in his chest. She hadn’t meant to single him out, but the admission hung in the air between them, as delicate and unsteady as a breath. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “No problem.”

She looked back up at him, a softness in her eyes that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to let him in. It wasn’t much—not yet—but it was enough to make his pulse quicken, to make him feel like he’d taken a step closer to something he’d been chasing without even knowing it.

“See you, Logan,” she whispered, her voice lingering in the quiet air, her eyes holding his for just a beat longer than necessary.

“See you,” he replied, his voice equally soft, reluctant. He took a step back, the warmth of her presence already beginning to fade, and gave her a small nod before turning away.

As he made his way down the hallway, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—a door, barely open, but open nonetheless.

[martiansodas-blog]

i love art donaldson dumbification but what about art donaldson puppyification? no other thoughts other than being your little lapdog, fetching your things for you and living off of praise

🎾 🤍💐✨🎀

♡ if a.donaldson can’t cover you with licks and kisses like a devoted dog then he doesn’t want it.

squish his thighs or pet his head or rub his belly when you need to say i love you. speak his language.

imagine just holding him to your chest and running your hands through the back of his head, it's such a rarely touched place it almost startles him to let another run their fingers around, yet it feels embarassingly good.

its scary how much an intimate touch makes him wanna shy away.

he just wants to kneel in front of someone while they stroke his hair, look up at them with those big eyes. whine a bit when they tug at it. he longs to be one putty in someone’s hands.

♡ oh you’re looking for your bag? he’s already holding it.

you need to fill up your water bottle but are comfy and don’t wanna get up? he’s on it.

♡ art is proud to be your blanket. your body talks to him; your heart giving his cheek kisses.

♡ we all know art has an oral fixation. when he’s in his happy place, it’s much even more intense. he’s asking to use your tits or clit. what are you gonna do? say no??

he loveeees laying on top of you, eyes closed, arms wrapped around your middle and nipple in his mouth. you’ll binge tv like this. it’s background noise to art. there’s no thoughts behind those eyes.

he’s gentle, don’t worry. he’ll massage the other one from time to time. giving kisses all over when he’s done as a thank you. putting your shirt back on you.

you get caught up on your shows while your lapdog lays on you getting scratches. win-win.

when it’s your clit it’s a different story.

you remind him, “no biting, soft mouth".

it’ll cause him to pout cause he can’t fully comprehend just how delicate it is. he’ll bite a tiny itty bitty bit to see what he can get away with. he’s sorry he just finds it really cute when you squeal !!! (and it’s such a perfect size to nibble on 🤭)

♡ bonus: he likes when you feed him things. that game where you throw grapes or popcorn into the others mouth? GODDD he’s there. huge smile on his face. he’s very good at it too.

what a good boy

[megumiluvv]

You were doing makeup one day just for fun while watching Yuji, and he tilts his head.

“What’s this do?” He grabs a blush brush.

“Oh, it’s to make your cheeks all rosy.”

“Can I?” He brings the brush to your cheeks.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You smile and let him do your makeup.

When Choso walks in, he sees you all dolled up, Yuji actually did a good job with your instructions.

“What’s the occasion?” Choso smiles.

“Yuji wanted to do my makeup.”

“Looks good, good job, Yuji.”

“Thanks!” Yuji grins, putting your lipgloss on your lips and offering to do Choso’s next.

“Oh, I’m not sure…”

“Come onnn! It’ll be fun!” You smile. “I bet you'll look super cute.”

Choso looks at you and Yuji’s pleading expressions and sighs, you both make him cave so easily.

“Alright, alright, I guess…”

“Yay!” Yuji giggles and you help him push Choso’s hair out of his face and apply the right amounts of foundation and contour.

“Okay, remember what I said about blending it in?”

“Mhm!” Yuji nods and smiles, focusing on making the makeup blend nicely.

“That’s looking really good, Yuji. Better than how I do it…” you mumble.

Choso smiles and Yuji smacks his arm. “You can’t move your face! I almost messed up!”

Choso laughs and so do you. “Sorry, Yuji, I’ll keep a straight face now.”

Yuji huffs and continues working, taking his beauty guru job very seriously right now. You take over the eye makeup, leaning close to Choso and focusing on putting good eye shadow on him and a cute eyeliner design with a heart on the tails.

“Mkay, now open your eyes.”

Choso opens his eyes and sees how close you two are. “…how’s it look…?”

“Good.” You smile.

Yuji pops back in between you two and puts your lipgloss on Choso’s lips.

“Now you’re pretty!” Yuji grins.

“Can I see?” Choso asks.

You take a selfie with Choso and Yuji to show him the makeup. “I’ll send it to you.”

“Thanks.”

“Mkay, I’ll see you tomorrow!” You smile and wave, not noticing Choso set the selfie as one of his wallpapers for his lock screen.

He does look pretty, but he’ll always think you’re prettier.

Masterlist

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

@mediokerrv @flooftoof

[bananielle]

love and suds ♡ 🫧

₊˚.⋆⁺₊ leehan x reader ୨ৎ genres: hurt x comfort. fluff.

5.7k words. cw: lowercase intended. not super proofread. reader wears a bra. negative self talk. crying. dark thoughts. kissing. bathing. if there’s anything else, please let me know! <3 @onedoornet

authors note: blew the dust off this cause i think the longer i wait the more i will want to never ever post it and this was really something i wanted to share. i wrote this a couple months ago to comfort myself when i was really struggling. i went back and took out the very dark stuff cause i felt it messed up the plot and other things and anyways! this isn’t my best writing at all but i hope it can bring even a teensy bit of comfort to anyone who might feel the way reader does. i hope it’s good enough. happy reading baby loves ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა p.s if you’re in a dark place i promise brighter days are written in the stars for u & plz remember u don’t need to be spectacular or do amazing things to be worthy of love & ur wonderful just as u are & u will be okay ♡

you wrestle with the lock of your apartment door, jamming and twisting the key around impatiently, huffing at the lack of compromise it’s giving you. all you’ve wanted to do since you left your safe haven was come right back, curl up in bed and sob into your pillow; life being too much for you to carry on your shoulders lately.

everything was difficult and stressful, and your body was barely standing upright. today was your final straw. any more stress, and you’d crumble into pieces. 

on your way home, you had looked up at the soft wash of pink and orange that was the sky, asking the universe for some kind of break. anything to ease the constant pain you felt. 

you hoped and prayed it would take kindly to your wishes, but as you’re standing here now, fighting to get into your warm home, it seems the universe ignored you. so much for asking you for any favours, you think to yourself bitterly. the thinned string of patience inside you threatens to snap as you ram the key into the lock hole for the sixth time, its stubborn self still refusing to give in. 

you take out the key, then put it back in, turn it as far left as it’ll go, and grab the door handle. you push down on it, and with all the strength you can muster, you bump your shoulder against the door, and suddenly, you’re home at last. 

you quickly shut and lock the door behind you, then kick off your shoes and switch on the main light. it’s quiet inside, despite it being the evening, only the low hum of the air conditioner floating through the place. you had thought your boyfriend would be home at this hour, as he usually is, but perhaps he had to stay longer at his schedules tonight. 

the thought weighs down on your shoulders, tears itching to escape and stream down your cheeks. a dark, heavy feeling settles in your chest. all you’ve wanted after such a long day was to see him. to collapse into his arms and feel his sturdy body against yours. and even if you did end up sobbing into your pillow the entire night, at least leehan would be there for you, laying beside you, rubbing your back and soothing you with his sweet voice, telling you that everything would be alright. 

yn: 0, universe: 2 trillion, you think. 

you’re too tired to feel hungry, and too tired to cook, so you decide to skip dinner. you switch off the main light, walking softly through the kitchen to your bedroom. it’s cold and damp inside, a fitting representation of your feelings. you don’t even have the energy to feel bothered by it. instead, you let yourself feel the goosebumps raise on your arms and the unpleasant chill caress your bare skin. 

you weakly climb onto the bed, forgetting to turn the lights on and not bothering to snuggle up under the covers. you lay there on your side, in your cold, dark room, with your knees tucked into your chest. 

for a while, your mind thinks nothing. 

until, you begin to think about all that’s wrong. a familiar feeling awakens in your veins. or maybe it’s your bones. whichever is deeper, more hurtful, it awakens there and gnaws at you.

the thoughts wash through like a tide, cruel and relentless.

you let out a sob and squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, screaming at the voice inside of you to leave you alone. your breaths come in short and panicked, and you scramble your mind to find something to tether yourself to, something to ground you and make you feel real again. 

a moment passes, and then, you see his face. 

you see his pretty smile and the even prettier dimples adorning it, a little part of you wishing you could live inside of them; safe and stored away from the hideous world. his soft eyes, all sparkling and starry appear and you try to remember how they look at you so lovingly. you see his hands tangled in yours, warm and safe and sturdy. you remember, as hard as you can, how they felt and you hold that feeling close to your heart, hoping it would soothe its rapid beats. 

leehan. leehan. leehan. you repeat like a prayer. your body relaxes. 

your breaths start to slow and you finally gulp in deeper breaths. but the relief doesn’t last for long, when you realise the pictures of your boyfriend in your mind are just that. pictures. he is not here. 

a frustrated burn settles in the back of your eyes, and you feel wet lines travel down your temples. your body shakes with every cry that escapes you, a puddle of wet forming on the covers. you sob for a while, until your head turns heavy and your eyes can barely stay open. 

please come home, leehan. i need you. 

you wish again to the universe, pleading it to do you a kindness and bring comfort to you, just this once. you hug yourself tightly while hoping for your boyfriend to come home, sniffling every now and then as your cries come to quiet. several minutes pass of you in the dark, cold and heartbroken, a heaviness stuck in the air. 

sleep nearly comes to your aid, but it’s not quick enough. you’re still awake to hear the distant, muffled sound of a key turning, and then clink of the front door unlocking. 

your heart soars in your chest. you sleepily wonder if it’s a dream, staying ever so still as you strain your ears for more sound. 

“yn? are you home, angel?” a weak sob escapes your lips at the comforting sound of leehan’s voice. you don’t know whether to smile or continue crying, so you do a strange combination of both. 

“in here”, you reply. but your voice isn’t loud enough. it’s raspy and weak, the words scraping your throat like glass as you spoke them. 

you wait a few heartbeats longer, hopeful and excited, watching the door, wondering if leehan was coming to find you.

soon enough, just as you wished, leehan finds you.

he shuffles into the pitch-dark room, turning on the light to see better. the moment he spots you, he nearly crumbles. a look of concern contort his features as walks towards your limp body and softly asks, “baby? wha- what’s wrong? are you okay? how long have you been like this?” his words spill out rushed, each one carrying more weight than the last.

he lowers himself onto the bed, adjusting himself so he’s sitting next to you, and reaches out an urgent hand out to brush away pieces of hair that stuck to your tear-stained face. “oh, baby”, he coos, stroking your hair gently. “talk to me” 

you look up at him through glassy eyes, and you break out into more sobs when you see how he gazes at you. so much concern and compassion glimmer in his eyes, it tugs at your heartstrings. his sweet words pick apart every tense nerve in your body. 

you hide your face in your hands as you cry, your breaths coming in so short and quick, they cut off every word you try to speak. 

“shh, baby. i’m here.” leehan comforts, as he leans down to place a kiss to your shoulder as one of his hands massages your back, up and down, soothingly. 

after a few more sobs and shh’s from leehan, you find a moment to take deep breaths and wipe your eyes. your limbs fight against you after being stuck in the same position for so long as you adjust yourself to sit up. you avoid his laser gaze, knowing that if you looked into his eyes, you fear the tears would never end. 

once you’ve sat up, you cross your legs and take in a shaky breath. the hand that leehan dragged up and down your back, now rests on your thigh. his other one finds the small of your back and stays there. 

you breath out deeply before speaking. 

“i’m just so tired, leehan.” your voice cracks and scratches but you don’t care enough to clear your throat. 

“i had such an awful day. i’ve been having awful days. and my head hurts so much. and my heart won’t stop beating like crazy. i feel it every second of the day and it scares me so much. everything is too much for me. i’m lost and confused and just. tired. ”, more tears stream down your cheeks, and you need to take in another deep breath before continuing. your hand finds leehans’ on your thigh and holds it tight for comfort. 

a weighted silence drifts upon the air. slowly, you look up from the random spot on the covers you’ve been trained on and meet leehan’s eyes. 

tears glisten at the edges of them, the look of concern vanished, replaced by utter sadness. his eyes trace every feature of your face, as if to find the answer to his question.

“oh, my love” he says, his voice hushed, nearly falling into a whisper. “why didn’t you tell me sooner? to know that you’ve been carrying this weight on your shoulders all by yourself, it breaks my heart. you know that’s why i’m here right? to help you carry the heavy things” 

“i-i know, leehan” you look down at your intertwined hands. “i don’t know why i didn’t, i’m sorry. i think i just, i didn’t want to burden you. i thought i could figure it out myself. make it go away on my own”, you shrug, not even realising how you’d kept your feelings a secret, subconsciously hiding them under a smile.

leehan suddenly cups your face in his hands, his eyes serious but his tone gentle. “you never have to be on your own. not as long as i’m here”, he sniffles as his eyes water more. your heart splinters at the sight. 

“please listen to me, baby. look at me” he makes sure he’s locked his gaze into yours when he says, “i am always here for you. always. i want to hear what you have to say. everything. don’t ever think you can’t come to me. you don’t have to be alone, i promise.” 

leehan kisses your forehead, so softly and sweetly, it prompts your body to shudder. your entire being is overcome by the love it holds for him. 

thank you, universe. 

“thank you” you say quietly, giving him the biggest smile you can muster. both your hands cover his own, your thumbs rubbing the backs of them lightly. “i love you. i promise to come to you. promise i’ll tell you things.” 

a slow smile spreads across his face, and he plants another kiss to your forehead, this time, lingering on the spot. he pulls away and tucks your hair behind your ears.

“let me take care of you, okay? i’ll run you a bath, get you all cleaned up and relaxed. how does that sound, baby?”, he asks eagerly.

your words seemed to have run away at leehan’s compassion, so all you do is nod your head tiredly, giving him a soft smile. 

leehan enters the bathroom with you in his arms, stopping to turn on the light before setting you down on the fluffy rug in the middle of the floor. it feels plush and warm against your socked feet, a comforting change compared to the cool draft in the bedroom. you press yourself further into it, really making sure you’re standing firmly on the ground, planted and unmoving.

he glides over to the bath, twisting the knob to the right so the dial lands right where it’s nearly too hot, just how you like it. the rush of water fills the room, the strong current of the faucet beating against the plastic tub, and again you feel comforted, no longer trapped in your thoughts when pleasant distractions feed all your senses. your eyes study leehan as he feels the water with his fingers, adjusting the dial a few times before turning back to you.

without saying a word, he scoops you into his embrace once more, bringing you to the sink and sitting you down on the edge of the counter. he kisses your cheek tenderly before opening a mirrored cabinet to sift through and bringing out your entire skincare routine, lining up each bottle in their respective order. a bright, warm glow begins to fill your chest. 

he bends down to open up a cupboard, and remerges with a small towel in his hand, then turns on the sink, checking to see if the water is lukewarm. he wets the towel, rings it, then repeats the action. after a few more soaks and rings, he places himself between your legs, then gently presses the towel to your face. 

“close your eyes for me, pretty” he instructs quietly, his voice low and smooth. 

leehan works in a methodical rhythm until every inch of your skin is made damp. his touches are so gentle and filled with love, you feel light-headed. you wonder in awe at how lucky you got with him. that such loving, gentle boy is all yours. a tiny, secret smile pulls the corners of your mouth.

“does that feel good, baby?” he purrs, taking notice of your not-so-secret smile. 

“mm-hm, more than good” you respond, looking up at him softly. he smiles back at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. 

leehan moves carefully as he applies your face wash, rubbing circles on your face firmly but gingerly, then taking the same wet towel to rinse it off. he works in silence whilst massaging every one of your serums and moisturisers into your face, as he’s seen you apply them yourself a million times, slowly and thoughtfully in an effort to relax you. the cold sensation of the creams and his sturdy fingers send shivers down your spine. 

“there we go. all done”. leehan strokes his thumbs over your cheeks one last time, then leans in to kiss your lips. it’s short and sweet, his lips soft and warm. 

the sound of the rushing water must have become white noise to you both, because when you turn your attention to the tub, it’s nearly filled to the brim. leehan goes to shut off the faucet, but not before adding in your favourite soap, swirling the steaming water around with his hand, making a clean, bubbly scent waft through the air. it’s familiar to you, a reassuring sense that helps you attach yourself to the present moment.  you’re here and you’re okay, you soothe to yourself. 

he walks back to you, hooking a strong arm around your back and placing the other under your knees, lifting you off the counter and placing you back on the fluffy rug. 

“let’s take these icky clothes off of you. arms up.” he says quietly, his honey voice nearly humming the words. 

you obey, reaching your arms up in the air, letting him put his hands under your shirt and gently lift it up and over your head. he’s seen you in your bra plenty of times before, but somehow, the intimacy of this moment makes you shy away and cover up. 

“hey…” he looks down at you, a slight twinkle in his eye. he gently pulls your arms away from your chest. “it’s just me, baby” 

“i know…” you respond shyly… “i just…” you trail off, looking down at your feet. 

“don’t worry, love. i can leave to let you undress. just let me know when you’re done.” he goes to leave, but you stop him quickly, grabbing his hand.

“no! no, please stay. i’m just a little overwhelmed…with love, i think. that’s all”, you say to the floor quietly. 

all leehan does is gaze at you fondly, the tiniest giggling leaving his mouth. “okay. i’ll be gentle with you, i promise” he reassures as he reaches his hands out to unclasp your bra.

they’re warm and sturdy, like they always are. the way his fingertips brush against your exposed skin so delicately gives you goosebumps. you didn’t know how it was possible to miss him so much, despite seeing him only this morning, and having him in front of you now, but here you are, longing for him so deeply. 

he undoes the clasp, then hooks his fingers through the straps, gently gliding it down your arms. once it’s off, he gathers it nicely and places it in on the sink, along with your shirt.

his hands continue to brush down your arms, the grazing of his finger tips like a ghost against your skin. he never lets go of your gaze as he kisses down your stomach. you gasp lightly at the way his lips travel down your body so lovingly, as if he was made just to worship you. 

he stops just before the button of your pants, then carefully undoes them, easing the piece of clothing down your legs slowly. you lift each foot out of the holes. 

leehan grabs the back of your calf, lifting it slightly to press a soft kiss to your shin, then takes off your sock. he does the same to your other leg, then folds up your jeans and sets them down near your folded shirt and bra. 

his eyes never leave yours as he runs his fingertips along your collarbone, the soft pads finding your shoulders to rest there. “my beautiful baby,” he coos. “let’s get you washed up.” 

leehan rolls up his long sleeve shirt, cuffing it at the elbows, then as tenderly as he can, he scoops you up and walks you over to the tub. his eyes never leave your face as he lowers you into the hot, bubbly water, careful not to hurt you. 

“how’s the temperature? is it warm enough?” 

“it’s perfect, leehan” you say, because it was. everything about this moment was perfect. 

“good”, he smiles softly. “i’ll be right back, okay?” and then he quietly leaves the bathroom. you rest your back against the side of the tub, leaning your head back on the side. the water is so warm, it feels like it reaches your bones. it melts away your worries like butter, until every evil word you had thought to yourself becomes smudged and muddled, a distant memory. 

you play with the bubbles, scooping up a handful, then blowing it into the air, watching as the sparkly, white clouds float every which way. your heart finally begins to slow down, resuming a normal pace. you’re warm and cradled and safe, all thanks to leehan. you could nearly cry again at his loving actions. how incredibly lucky you were to have him. 

your love returns a few minutes later with a rolled up towel, walking into the separate shower to grab your wash cloth and body wash, then kneels near the tub behind you. he lifts up your head slightly, then pushes the towel underneath as a little makeshift pillow.

you study his upside down face carefully. his cheeks are slightly blushed from the heat of the bath, and the front pieces of his hair are curling slightly from it, too. there’s something so sweet in his eyes — you can’t quite explain it. but it makes you glow on the inside. 

leehan. leehan. leehan. my leehan. 

he beams down at you, stroking your head. “do you need to wash your hair tonight?” he asks, searching your eyes.

you simply shake your head no, too relaxed and soothed to speak. he nods, then takes the wash cloth and dips it in the tub.

he squirts your favourite body wash on it, then begins to rub it in your skin soothingly. the pressure of his strong hands, the warmth of the water, and the slight tingle of the texture of the cloth against your skin overwhelms you with relaxation. 

with each gentle rub, your pain washes away, lost to the mountains of bubbles. your mind goes blank, but not unpleasantly. it’s quiet, but not uncomfortable. at peace, in a way.

for a long time, leehan tends to you. his forearms are soaked, covered in tiny white bubbles, some even reaching up his cuffed sleeve. he holds every part of you so tenderly, as if you were the most precious being he’ll ever know. he’s careful to wash off any excess icky-ness of the day, humming lowly as he does. 

his fingers begin to prune, as do yours, and the bubbles begin to subside. he cups his hands in the water and uses it to wash off any leftover soap still stuck to your skin. you’ve passed the state of relaxation now, completely lost in bliss from leehan’s caresses.

as you hug your knees to your chest, he tells you to lift your head up off the little towel. two strong hands grip your shoulders, massaging them lazily. his hands rub the tense muscles for a few minutes, sending tingling sensations down your spine. 

“love you so much, darling. so so much” he purrs into your ear softly before letting his warm lips trail down your neck. he reaches one hand across your face to cup your cheek, turning your head ever so slightly. his fingers slide to rest under your chin, and he slowly lifts your head up so you’re looking right in his eyes. 

“you’re everything to me, yn. everything” he says, then presses his mouth to yours softly. he deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. you let him in, allowing your tongue to tangle with his. he lingers in your mouth for a while, languidly tasting you over and over again. he finally breaks away, his cheeks slightly flushed. 

your own cheeks are blushed as well, your breath stuck in your throat slightly, in awe of the kiss. 

leehan uses his thumbs to guide your eyelids closed to press feather-light kisses to each one, then he wanders all over your face, not letting any inch of skin go un-kissed. one last time, his lips finds yours again. 

you look up at him sleepily, so relaxed and soothed, you could fall asleep right there. the harsh cold and sadness of before long gone. he notices your sleepiness. 

“ready for bed, my love?” 

“mm-hmm” you hum in response, your lids fluttering closed as you let him scoop you out of the tub and stand you up carefully. he quickly gets your robe off of its hook, then wraps it around your body, guiding each of your arms through the sleeves. he snugs it around you as tight as possible before tying the strap around your waist. he goes to empty the tub, the water beginning to drain with a large gurgle. 

leehan turns you around by the shoulders, guiding you to the closet so you can get dressed in your pyjamas. you stand in the middle of the closet, studying your boyfriend as he contently sifts through your drawers, trying to find your comfiest set of pyjamas.

“ah—these ones! these are so cute, baby. and they’re nice and warm. what do you think, hm?” he turns to look at you with sparkling eyes, a hint of playfulness in them. 

“yeah, those will work leehan” you let out a breathy laugh, completely amused by the fact that leehan thought these pyjamas are cute, all pink and adorned with hearts. 

he goes to unwrap your robe and delicately slide it off of you, letting it pool at your feet. the sudden cold air makes you cover yourself, prompting leehan to coo and hastily bring your pyjama top over your head.

“here, baby”, he says softly. the warm fabric gives you immediate relief, eliciting a sigh out of you. he bends down to put on the fluffy pants, gently holding your the back of your calves as he does so. you help him bring them up all the way, to which leehan lifts your top slightly to plant a sneaky kiss to your stomach. 

“hey!” you giggle. “that tickles” 

he smiles up at you sweetly, his fluffy brown hair covering his pretty eyes. “oh!” he perks up suddenly.  “i forgot your socks!” he exclaims, jumping to his feet to go through your sock drawer. he grabs the warmest, fluffiest pair he can find. 

once he’s put them on your feet, he wastes no time in scooping you up in his arms for the nth time that night. he walks you to the bed, switching off the bathroom light on his way out. even though it’s a brief walk, you snuggle up to him close, your head finding the crook of his neck to rest in. you place a soft kiss to the area of skin, then another, and another, until you’ve placed as many as you can before he sets you down gently. 

he adjusts the covers so you can cuddle up underneath them, and you slide your body under them and snuggle up as much as possible, making yourself cozy. 

leehan pulls the covers up to your chin, tucking in the rest around around body, making sure you’re as warm as can be. he sits down next to you, taking your hands in his. after a moment, he speaks.

“you should eat something warm. how about some soup?” he asks. 

“that sounds lovely”, you say quietly, “thank you, leehanie. for…for everything”, squeezing his hand to punctuate the words. 

“it’s what i’m here for, darling.” he stands, then gives you a quick peck on your forehead, then leaves as he says “i’ll be back soon”

my leehan. you think as you watch him go. your eyes stay trained on the door way, your ears listening to the soft chinks of the dishes and the quiet closing of cupboards, and the occasional crinkle of a packet.

you wait patiently for your love. thanking the stars a million times over for him. how lucky you were for them to align just so, allowing you to be together.

just a couple hours ago, you were laying in this same spot, curled up into a sad, miserable ball, sobbing at how cruel your mind and the world was. you had wanted nothing more than the bed to swallow you whole. 

but then, he came home to you. and here you are now, underneath toasty covers, and you felt alright. you were comforted and relaxed, but most importantly, you were loved.

you lay in silence for a few long minutes, the occasional drip of the faucet hitting the bottom of the tub floating through the room. you trace random shapes with your eyes on the ceiling. just as your finishing tracing a heart, leehan walks in with a warm bowl of soup, soft swirls of steaming from it into the air. 

“it’s still a little hot but it shouldn’t take long to cool down” he says, placing the bowl on the nightstand next to you. he gives it a few stirs with the spoon, then turns his attention back to you. he smiles softly as he sits down next to you, fiddling the with warm duvet to snuggle you up more. 

he takes the bowl of comfort food in his hands with the towel. “open up” leehan lifts the spoon to your lips, then slowly tips it so you can swallow the warm liquid. 

“is it good?” he asks hopefully. 

“mm-hmm, it’s lovely. feels good to eat something warm” you respond sleepily, opening your mouth again as another spoonful comes towards you.

leehan feeds you lovingly in the perfect, comfortable quiet that envelopes you two. he makes sure you’ve eaten it all, until the bowl is just barely streaked with soup. when the spoon stops being useful, he brings the bowl to your lips and holds the back of your head gently as you drink up the rest. 

“i’ll go wash up the dishes. it’s not much, but if you feel like you need to sleep, don’t wait up for me, okay? rest. i love you, baby”. he kisses off an excess spot of soup at the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to your forehead.

“i love you” you tell him softly.

you watch him go with heavy eyelids and a warm, full belly. 

you don’t fall asleep just yet, even though you feel sleep tugging at your brain and body. you nearly drift off, but jerk yourself awake. you wanted to wait for leehan.

he was so wonderful to you today, so caring and compassionate. your heart squeezes as your mind recounts the details of the night. every little moment of leehan caring for you making a content smile tug at your lips. 

by the time he comes back into the room, your eyes are barely able to stay open.

“you’re still awake? you didn’t have to wait for me, yn.” he offers you a sweet smile as he brushes a strand of hair away from your eyes. 

“i know, i wanted to though. i want some cuddles” you say gently.

“you’re gonna get lots of cuddles, i promise.” you feel leehan’s weight dip the bed as he climbs in next to you.

before he can say anything else, you decide to speak. “i’m sorry, leehan. i was such a mess today”, you say quietly, fiddling with the top of the covers. 

“baby, wha-what?”, a sudden look of concern paints his face, his eyebrows quirking up in confusion.

his eyes look at you sadly. “what do you have to be sorry for?” he breathes out, his hand cupping your cheek softly, his thumb making soothing strokes. 

“i-i just…” your words get caught in your throat, and you feel the prickle of tears behind your eyes. a sob threatens to leave you, so you take a deep breath before speaking again. 

“i just dumped so much on you, you know? out of nowhere. you came home and there i was, a complete sobbing mess. just dumping so much of emotions onto you, with no warning. i didn’t even ask you about your day. i’m sorry you had to see me that way…i’m such a burden”. the well-known dark feeling enters your chest again, the rampant monster in your mind waiting to pounce. 

“oh, angel” he sighs. leehan takes his hand off your cheek to grab one of yours, holding it so tightly, you wonder if he thinks you’ll slip away if he let go. 

he brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly. 

he studies you earnestly. “don’t ever be sorry for being open with me. you’re not a bother. you’re the furthest thing from it. it’s okay if you were a mess. i’m a mess sometimes. and when i am, you’re always there to care for me. why wouldn’t i do the same for you?” he pauses briefly, as if to make sure he doesn’t cry.

“it breaks my heart to know you feel the way you do, yn. you deserve the whole world” his voice cracks slightly at the end. leehan says the words with so much fervor and love, you want to believe him, so badly, but your mind continues to build blocks. you hate yourself for it, and he sees it written on your face.

“please hear me when i say this, my love” he squeezes your hand tight, bringing it to his heart. “i promise you’re good enough. i know you feel small sometimes. but please believe me when i say you are good enough. you work so so hard, and you’re so talented. i see how much you sacrifice to do well. you’re kind and thoughtful and smart. and really, really gorgeous…” he trails off, letting out a breathy laugh. his eyes begin to twinkle.

“you still make my heart race, y’know that? every time i look at you, it goes crazy. just for you and only you…i know i’m not the best with words, but, i really do love you. and you mean everything to me. i don’t need or want you to be perfect or put-together all the time. i want to see all the parts to you.  don’t be sorry for your feelings, please. and don’t be afraid to come to me, alright? nothing about you is ever too much for me, angel. there’s no such thing.” 

you quite literally feel like you could burst into a million pieces at that very moment. no one has or will ever make you feel as loved as leehan. the world would have to end before you even tried to figure that out. you really try to hear him, try to cement the words into your heart, to will away the dark thoughts. they might not disappear entirely, but you had leehan. your sweet leehan, who would never let you go through it alone. 

a few tears have made their way down your cheeks again, and his. he places your hand down gently, then leans down to kiss away your tears. he takes his time, slowly licking up the salty trails. he cups your face, stroking your reddened cheeks soothingly. he kisses every part of your face until there’s no part of skin that hasn’t been touched. 

you take his face in your hands, brushing away stray pieces of hair from his eyes. “my leehan”, you dote, “i love you so much. what would i do without you?”

he brings his lips to yours, softly at first. the kiss is light, barely a touch. he pulls away, just for a moment, to look into your eyes. he kisses you again, but deeper this time, a way for you to say i love you better than his words could tell. it’s passionate and intimate and vulnerable, and it tastes of your salty tears and his vanilla chapstick. your stray fingers tug at his hair slightly, pressing him closer to you. it’s a thank you kiss. an i love you kiss. a kiss that says i’ll never leave you.

after a few moments, he slowly breaks away from you. your eyes still closed. carefully, they flutter open to see a dazed, dreamy-eyed leehan and with every fiber of his being, with every piece of his heart, he says, “i love you, yn. i’ll love you forever”

taglist — @whyilovewhales-pdf @uriwoos2

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Hawks x Reader Drabble

Red tail hawks are completely monogamous. And although you knew that Keigo wasn’t a complete birdbrain, he definitely had more avian features than his scarlet wings. 

Keigo was utterly and completely devoted to you. His lips pledged his troth every time they met the altar of your skin. Your words, even if they were no more than sleepy mumbles, were scripture that he studied from the earliest dew to darkest evanescence. Anything you desired, anything you could ever want, Keigo would provide to the best of his ability. 

Never once did you think that Keigo would betray that precious trust between you two, even if the constant spotlight made him susceptible to people’s obsessions. How could you when his eyes were dilated to black discs every time he laid eyes on you? Or with the way he gently brushed and fussed over your hair? And how he sometimes took you on night flights just so the stars can be graced with your presence, as if your beauty was beyond cosmic. 

Keigo’s avian features extended outside his wings, and being precariously faithful was one of them. 

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

charlie leaving her depressed gf and her depressed dad alone to bond for 1 hour and coming back to vaggie ordering around a not very small army of rubber ducks while lucifer happily moves them across the floor with his stick as instructed

a few have been customized to look the like hazbin hotel crew. the one for sir pretentious is hanging from the ceiling. they somehow fit husk's ducky in a whisky bottle. angel's is positioned like it's lounging on the bottle. cherri bomb no. 25 is about to get launched skyward by an actual cherry bomb. pretentious' eggs are just boiled eggs with top hats drawn on in marker, one of them already loaded into a spoon catapult. niffty's duck is siting on note with the letter A on it- the note it pinned to the floor with every sharp item in the hotel. alastor doesn't have a duck he has a taxidermized deer head in headphones painted to look like a rubber duck

you said she needed a hobby! charlie's dad says as she tries to take in the scene. it's a lot to take in. vaggie hurries over. c'mere babe- you have to see this!- vaggie says dragging her into the middle of the chaos to show her their two duckies. they're snuggled up and tied together with lucifer's bowtie

charlie thinks for a moment then moves them so they're kissing

the duckening continues for another hour and only stops when keekee yoinks down duck pretentious and runs off with it, sparking a hotel-wide rescue mission that EVERYONE gets dragged into, somehow

[obsessive-evie]

keep them on, please

pairing: Caitlin Clark + fem!oc

word count: 6.5k

warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of rough sex, inappropriate use of jewelry??

Sets of perfectly mismatching rings always covered my fingers. A wrap-around Lilly spoon ring for my pointer finger was a specific favorite of mine. And Caitlin’s.

My girlfriend’s slightly anxious personality meant her eyes gravitated towards safety. Which was often found in the familiar, or my rings. The same rings every day on the same fingers, fiddled with in the same patterns, flipped across fingertips absentmindedly by myself.

So any chance my girlfriend could get, her hand would find mine, and I loved it. And every time without fail, her lengthy fingers would always find a way to maneuver said silver rings off of my own smaller ones, and into hers. She would fiddle with them, slide them along my knuckles, and look at them so closely you’d think she was trying to memorize every carving and scratch.

I’ve never really asked her about it until I noticed she looks at them during… certain times.

We had just arrived home after a night out with friends, after a few drinks in and her hands had gone a little too far up my thigh for the busy upscale bar, I’d told her we should head home.

The whole ride home was spent with my slightly more than tipsy girlfriend glued to my hands. The hands that once roamed over my thighs and hips in the dimly lit bar were now brushing over my knuckles and flipping my rings as she leaned on my shoulder.

Arriving back at her place for the night, we had ended up half clothed- my dress bunched up around my hips with straps falling off my shoulders as she hovered above me, her black silk shirt all the way unbuttoned to reveal a simple lace bralette.

Of course her hands held mine as she kissed my neck, leaving it up to me to undress us one handed. The silk shirt that I picked out for her highlighted her pale skin in the low light of her bedroom, the shadows from it accentuating her collarbones and abs as she left small bites on my neck.

Caitlin’s large hand came to pin down my own, her knuckles squeezing harder around my rings, which reminded me I needed to take them off before this went any further.

Pushing back on her shoulder with my one free hand, I break our kiss, “Wait babe sit up for a sec,” I say. She leans back to sit more on my thighs than on my hips, allowing me to sit up and begin to take off my rings.

A warm hand stops me, wordlessly, she pushes my shoulders back down and returns to my neck. I let her, thinking she just wants to makeout right now and not go any further.

But once she’d pulled me out of my dress and untucked her shirt from her jeans (the action totally didn’t kill me a little), unbuttoning them along the way, I realized this was most definitely not a makeout.

Pushing on my inebriated girlfriend’s shoulder once again, except this time hooking my leg around her own, effectively flipping out positions and seating myself atop Caitlin’s hips.

Attempt number 2 of taking off my rings: also unsuccessful.

I took a moment to appreciate my girlfriend with my hands on her abs, “You’re so pretty baby.” She still doesn’t say anything, a tendency of sleepy/tipsy/horny Cait. I brought my hands together once more to pull off my rings, but before I could even get one off, her hands stop me again.

Gentle and warm fingers press into my wrists, her thumbs barely cutting into my pulse point. Before I realize what’s happening, shes sat up onto her elbows and is kissing the soft inside of my wrist, followed by my palm, then the back of my hand, then lastly my knuckles, her lips barely brushing the cool metal adorning them. “Keep them on,” she finally voices in a quiet, almost timid voice. Caitlin going reserved in the bedroom wasn’t entirely unusual. She was an anxious person half the time and a confident powerhouse the other half, I never knew what I was going to get when we were undressed.

But this edge to her voice, the slight waver in her tone, the way her eyes relaxed slightly, like she was melting into my gaze. This was different. New. This wasn’t our usual game of cat and mouse, she was showing a different form of vulnerable I rarely got to see.

Her lips slide down my fingers, past my rings, until my nails are barely resting on the flesh of her bottom lip. Her soft grip on my wrist doesn’t change as she slowly opens her mouth wider and to take my center two fingers into the warm wetness. Her tongue juts out just slightly, sliding my digits deeper and deeper, making me gasp at her unwavering eye contact and bold actions.

Her lips close around my knuckles as she closes her eyes, my rings sitting just behind her lips. I can’t quite breathe, or think.

That’s when I feel her tongue begin to slide up and down the crevice created by my two fingers together, sucking just slightly. She tilts her head back faintly, allowing herself to slide the tip of her tongue under the rim of a thick stamped ring on my middle finger. The small but strong muscle moves said ring back towards her mouth as she slowly slides my hand away from her.

Her eyes open slowly once my nails are resting once again by her now closed lips, covered in spit this time. Now missing a ring, my pulse quickens at what I just witnessed. My tall and usually tough girlfriend completely surrendering to me, and taking my fingers in her mouth oh so gently, sucking on them and covering them with her warm spit.

Her soft eyes bore into mine as she opens her mouth to reveal my ring sitting so perfectly on her tongue. She sticks it out slightly, an offering, I realize. Like a pearl in an oyster, my shiny spit covered ring stands out against the deep pink of her mouth and tongue.

I reach my middle finger back over her tongue, placing the tip of it in the center of the ring, and slide it back onto my knuckles with my ring and index finger. The motion I’ve done a thousand times now has a different meaning to it once I look back at the loving eyes of my girlfriend.

She almost looks too pretty, too soft laying there like this, tongue stuck out and spit beginning to pool on the muscle. It slowly slides back into her mouth before she closes her shiny lips again and swallows. Caitlin’s takes a deeper breath, like she was in a slight trance (I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t either), and restates, “keep them on,” there’s a pause, “please.” She says the last part in an almost pleading, ever so slightly shaky voice. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it. But the unmistakable lilt of sheer wanton desire slides under her words like a silent stream.

I nod, feeling air enter my lungs in a deep inhale, allowing myself to breathe after such a tense moment. My fingers retreat from her lips, and I notice the sheen on her chin and surrounding areas. I swipe my thumb slowly across it, and her mouth opens slightly, almost instinctively. Before I back out, I dip the edge of my thumb into her mouth, opening her jaw wider by pressing on the lower row of her teeth. The slight bite of them pressing into the pad of my thumb makes me want her more as the dainty silver band sitting at the base of it is now flooded with spit.

I withdraw from her mouth once more after she swipes her tongue gently across my thumb. Keeping my hand resting on her jaw and cheek, I lean down to kiss my girlfriend deeply.

I breathe in her pulse, her soft hair underneath my under forearm as it holds myself up above her head, the taste of her lips on mine, and the unmistakable tang of metal on her tongue. I moan into mouth when she pushes her hip up into my center, her hands still resting frozen by her side like she’s waiting for permission to grab at my hips.

My right hand wanders down from her jaw to her neck and collarbones, framing where they meet in a perfect U-shape. My movement seems to spur her on, and I finally feel the familiar warmth of her hands on my hips, cradling the lace covered flesh with such gentle firmness I can’t help but kiss her harder.

My hand resting on her neck slides around to the muscle of her shoulder, sitting up and pulling her with me.

“Off.” Is all I say, sliding the silk fabric that was already hanging off her shoulders down the silent strength of her arms, as it was more just hanging off her slender form after being untucked earlier. Next I undo her belt, sliding it out of its loops without breaking eye contact. She understands to lift her hips after I unbutton her pants and open her zipper, revealing a matching. Set.

The same pattern of black lace and ribbed cotton adorns her hips and pussy, melting me from the inside out. My eyes meet hers before I slide her pants the rest of the way down her long legs, sitting myself back on her smooth skin of her thighs. She looks away, clearly nervous and awaiting my reaction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” is all I can breathe out before I lean back up to capture her lips, my hands (and my rings) digging into her prominent hip bones to hold myself up.

The two of us were now only wearing our bras and underwear, each just sultry enough to elicit a reaction, but comfortable enough to wear on a night out. Caitlin’s was simply more jarring to me.

Don’t get me wrong, my incredibly sexy girlfriend liked to be girly and feminine, but usually opted for her more practical sports bras and simple underwear. So seeing her strong body covered in something so delicate and pretty was a pleasant surprise, even if her bra was visible all night.

Her warm hands pull my hips down onto her protruding ones, making me gasp into our kiss in surprise. Letting the sparks it creates burn through me, I push my hips down to hers this time, moaning into her mouth at the pleasant buzz. As I begin to move back from her hips, she pushes hers up, continuing my pleasure.

I shift my weight to my right knee holding myself up outside her thigh so I can reposition myself seated on just one of her strong thighs, allowing my kneecap to meet her black lace.

A bitten lip and a short exhale is my gift in return.

I move my knee once more, sinking back down onto the tense area where her hip bone meets her thigh. We fall into this rhythm, pushing my knee into her clothed center, grinding down and towards her on her thigh, while she pushes her leg up and flexes.

The result of this repetition is the sight of my girlfriend beneath me, wearing a matching set (which alone would kill me anyways), with her eyes squeezed shut, hips twitching and grinding against my own. Her mouth parts slightly with a gasp, her abs begin to flex even harder as her shakey grip tightens on my thighs.

I pull her hips down onto my knee and slow my grinding, allowing her to squeeze her thighs together. Running my decorated hand up her abs and chest, stopping once I get to her collarbones, I lean my head down to whisper in her ear, “you look so filthy fucking yourself onto my thigh.”

Her whole body shudders, her breathing stalls and comes out in rushed puffs of hot air, I see her mouth open wider as she tilts her head back.

Oh shit

Fast paced pants and whines fill the dimly lit bedroom, and she’s finishing on my leg before I can process how fast she got here, especially just through her underwear.

I don’t slow my movements, not for a second. Not even when her grip on my thighs turns almost painfully hard. Not even when I’m worried she’s not breathing at all.

A large and harsh exhale leaves her spit slick mouth, and her shudders seem to slow. I wait for her to slow her hips herself, leaving my knee pressed into her for Caitlin to decide when she’s done. Her hips come to a full stop, her tense abs and neck relax, and her death-grip on my thighs eases.

Her eyes are still closed when I slowly ease my knee away from her core, kissing her cheek softly as a distraction. Consciousness seems to flood her face after air fills her lungs once more for a complete breath at my actions.

I smile softly, kissing her cheek again, followed by her nose. She opens her mouth to speak, meeting my eyes. Nothing comes out, her eyes vulnerable and almost embarrassed. I move a piece of hair out of her eyes, admiring how the dark strands pool above her like a halo in this light.

“Are you okay?” I whisper softly, almost into her mouth. Her face flushes even more crimson, averting her eyes and tilting her head away from me. Her clear embarrassment at how fast she finished on my thigh surfacing at my question.

Oh so gently, I cradle her jaw, turning her back to face me. I kiss her firmly on the lips this time, not allowing her to turn again when I pull away. “I’ll ask again,” I whisper into her mouth, keeping her eyes on mine, “are you alright baby?” A slow but firm nod is what follows.

I feel her take a deep breath with her whole chest before responding, “I just didn’t expect that is all.” I feel a small smile grace my face at her embarrassment, her warm deep brown eyes nervously dancing between my own. My own teeth dig into my lip, deciding to be slightly cruel, I push my knee back up into her, making her gasp and squirm before I say, “I liked it.”

I can see her holding back a moan, slightly from overstimulation and slightly from my words and attention. I push again, making her flinch slightly, “Not yet, I can’t,” she gasps out, holding my hips firmly away from her, our slight strength and size imbalance making it easy for her to do so. My thumb soothes the creases between her brows, admiring her features in the moonlight.

She kisses me this time, myself too distracted with the beautiful girl beneath me to notice her own stares at my lips. We kiss until I can’t hold myself up anymore, my arms giving out forcing me to lay fully on my girlfriend. Our chests pressed together, hearts beating in synch, trying to melt every golden molecule of her body into mine, we stay like that for not long enough.

My hand on her jaw and cheek rings dancing along her warm skin, my other still playing with her hair, Caitlin moves her own hands up my back and waist, pulling me closer.

Before I can slink back down her body to give her another deserved orgasm, I’m flipped onto my back by the lithe muscles holding me. What once was my embarrassed and shy girlfriend post orgasm is now a smirking and hungry looking brunette above me. She begins kissing my neck softly, making me melt into the pillow. I almost don’t notice when her smooth hand slides under my slightly arched back, unclasping my bra in one quick movement.

Before I can protest and remove hers too, she sucks where my neck meets my shoulder, hard. “Hey! That kind of hurt…” I say in a tone slightly whinier than I would’ve liked. She laughs a breathy laugh before pealing the black lace off my chest and shoulders, tossing it to the side somewhere in her room. Her large hands cradle my upper rib cage, thumbs dipping into my sternum just under my boobs while her middle finger reaches all the way over the side of my torso.

She continues her slightly rough kissing on my neck, trailing down to my newly exposed tits. She knew how sensitive they were at times, and decided to get payback for earlier I guess. Attacking the soft flesh with a flurry of her tongue and occasional strikes of teeth, she began leaving tiny marks all down my chest and rib cage.

Deciding I’ve had enough of this teasing, and the fact that she still has her bra on, I pull her shoulder blades forward into me, causing her to lean down on top of me with her head pressing into my sternum. She looks up, meeting my eyes slightly, so I cradle her jaw yet again and make her fully look at me. “Kiss me,” I say, milking the slightly pouty nature hoping she’ll abandon her post at my tits in favor of my mouth.

She does, my girlfriend never being able to say no to me when I give her any ounce of control. Oh well bye bye control for her.

The second she gets close enough to my face, my decorated hand finds her neck, squeezing slightly in a consistent but firm grip. Never hard enough to hurt her or cut off her air yet, but hard enough to make her freeze. Now knowing how she feels about my rings, I make sure to push the base of my fingers just as hard as my fingertips.

Her eyes change again, back to a similar vulnerable air from before. Pushing harder with the base of my hand and wrist, I moved her away from my face and sit up as she moves. All I simply do next is push on her shoulders and she’s falling back into the pillows once more. There must’ve still been enough alcohol in my girlfriend’s system for her to be so pliant with me, her usual cocky demeanor shining through occasionally, even when she’s a total bottom for me.

Seating myself once more on her hips, borderline lower stomach. I keep her eyes on mine as I slowly remove one ring, a smooth moonstone juts out from its silver casing, so I place it on the nearby bedside table. Quite frankly that would not be comfortable in any situation. I make it very apparent I’m keeping the rest on by placing my hands on her chest firmly, and dragging the cool metal up and around her back.

She gets what I’m trying to do and arches just enough for me to unhook her perfectly pretty bralette. Repeating the actions she did for me silently, I take my time reveling in every inch of newly exposed skin, knowing she’ll start getting nervous soon under my gaze.

Running the now seven silver rings up and down her stomach and sternum, around her chest and collarbones, while purposefully avoiding too close to her tits, Caitlin begins to squirm. I glance up at her face, noticing she wasn’t making any kind of noise yet. She had her bottom lip trapped between the sharp teeth I know all too well, face turned to the side, eyes glancing anywhere but me while her eyelids fluttered every time I got closer to her nipples.

I lean down to kiss her cheek, which brings a small smile to the clearly high strung girl beneath me. Following that kiss with a quick one where her jaw meets just below her ear, then the side of the her neck, the hollow of her throat, the inner tip of her collarbone, lastly a feather light peck on her sternum. I pause, just hovering above her tits, I can almost feel her heartbeat pick up as my breath tickles her skin.

Glancing up her face once more, I take it her almost anguish gracing her features before relenting, and kissing my way across her chest. A gentle suck on one of her perked nipples and I finally get a noise out of her. A breathy, barely there whine albeit, but a noise nonetheless. Caitlin was typically pretty quiet during sex, usually holding back her noises out of embarrassment, or simply opting for heavy breathing and swearing, the occasional whine telling me I’m doing something right.

Rubbing up and down her sides, I move to alternate sucking on one nipple, and gently rubbing and pinching the other, eliciting a few more heavy breaths, and finally, “fuck, babe.”

I smile, taking that as my cue to start kissing her abs. I won’t lie, I definitely spent far too long with my lips attached to her abs. Little bites, gentle hickeys, kisses, anything I can to mark up her toned stomach, I will 100% always do. I can’t help it her muscles are incredibly hot and only available when she’s beneath me.

Her breaths come out faster and harder the lower I go, treating every ridge and hard line with a stark mix of gentle tongue and sharp teeth. My hands still keeping busy on her chest and sides, my large etched ring on my middle finger brushes her right nipple, catching on it as my hand travels. This simple action results in a buck of her strong hips, and her hand coming to hold the back of my head (like my head had anything to do with that action?), accompanied with a gasp that melts into a soft moan.

Her noises are more consistent now, but I can tell she’s still holding back. Never one to ask or beg for me to do anything, I travel to her hips, biting on my way down to her thighs to ease up on my relentless teasing. She finally looks down at me once I’ve seated my lips at the junction of her hip and thigh, sucking intently on the soft flesh there.

I grip her twitching hips slightly harder than necessary, making sure she feels the cool press of the metal adorning them into her soft skin. I keep her eyes on mine, making sure Cait sees my next move.

Kissing just above the lace on her hip, I pause. Grabbing the thin fabric between my front teeth, and her mouth parts even more. I pull the lacy black underwear concealing my girlfriend down to her thighs, then fully off her with my hands once I reach her knees.

Running my hands back up her outer thighs as I kiss the soft skin on the inside of them, she parts the strong muscles for me. This new position of staring directly at her cum covered pussy sends a new kind of determination through me.

I hesitate, glancing back up at her face for approval before moving straight into kissing and gently licking her dripping cunt. Her shaking hand immediately comes to gently hold the back of my head, her long veiny fingers threading themselves into my hair. I eat her out almost teasingly for a few minutes, holding back from sucking too hard or for too long. She seems to notice the teasing nature of my tongue.

“Babe,” is all she says softly, immediately glancing away and looking back at me with nerves. I don’t pause my tongue, I simply look up and meet her pleading brown eyes. Moving one hand from its tight grip on her hips, I run my fingers over the divots and lines of her abs and ribs, making sure she feels it. The newfound freedom of her hip means she immediately pushes down onto my face slightly.

I pull away entirely, earning me an annoyed glare and the sight of my usually tough top girlfriend throwing her head back onto the pillow in frustration.

“Eyes on me baby,” is all I say in a tone far lower than I expected. The warm brown of her eyes changes from sassy annoyance to one of shock and desire when I, without breaking eye contact, lean down slightly and spit directly onto her already wet pussy.

Diving down to clean up my mess, I eat her out with the fervor and pressure she clearly has been wanting. I’m met with a shocked moan and strong arching hips almost fighting against me to push further into my mouth. I lick up and down her folds, concentrating my lips on her clit.

I manage to keep my girlfriends hips down just long enough for her breath to pick up again, her thighs to start to squeeze around my head, and her hand to push me almost painfully close into her cunt, my nose barely peaking out over her warm mound.

Just as she sucks in a gasp of air, telling me she’s close, I pull away. “No, fuck you oh my god no,” she says, pleading. Her hand that was resting by her side comes up to cover her face, pushing loose hair out her eyes and brow. I smile at her frustration, it meaning she felt good. But I can make her feel better.

I kiss the thigh directly to my right softly, a small sign of remorse for my angry girlfriend. “Babe I swear to god if you don’t-“ I cut off her whining by sucking on her clit, hard. Her protest turns into a moan, half silenced by her hand now over her mouth. Gently flicking and pinching her nipples along with my mouth practically devouring her pussy, it’s not a surprise when my girlfriends heavy breathing picks up again, her thighs fight against my tight hold, and her back begins to arch just slightly. I hear a flurry of small curse words mumbled under her breath get more and more frequent. I press on her toned lower stomach gently, knowing the pressure inside her surely clenching cunt might’ve been enough to push her over the edge into pure pleasure. If I didn’t stop my movements and pull away. Again.

She punches the bed next to her, getting more than frustrated now. “Please oh my god I was so fucking close,” she says through spit slick and bitten lips, her eyes almost glassy. Cait rarely bottomed, let alone pleaded with me.

I kiss up her abs again, knowing her frustration at me is only because of her denied pleasure. Clearly she’s sobered up enough now to be vocal about what she wants, because by the time I get to her tits she’s talking again.

“Babe I am so serious what the fuck was that for I’ve been good I didn’t even move that much I just wanted you to-“ by the time I’ve reached her neck, I slide my middle two fingers into her rapidly moving mouth, effectively shutting her up. Despite her anger, Caitlin eagerly sucks on my fingers again, her warm mouth enveloping the metal and my nails. I sit myself atop her abs, maintaining eye contact as I push my fingers deeper that she can comfortably take, sliding them back out halfway before she gags.

I continue this motion until the fire in her eyes has dimmed slightly, showing me she won’t fight me when I slide a third finger into her mouth. My pointer finger however, doesn’t just have her beloved wrap around spoon ring, but a simple twisted band sits past my first knuckle, halfway down my finger. She clearly feels it on her tongue, because her eyes flutter slightly when it brushes far back in her mouth.

Submitting before me, I let myself rest and put my whole body weight on her torso, knowing the strong girl beneath me won’t be hurt by my smaller frame. (I’m totally not transported back to when she made me grind on her abs without any help as punishment for leaving a hickey so far down on her thigh it peaked out her basketball shorts. Thankfully it could’ve been mistaken as a small bruise but she was annoyed nonetheless.)

I decide she’s coated my fingers well enough, pulling out until only the very tips rest inside her mouth again. The pretty brunette takes in large gulps of air, spit dripping out of her mouth with every pant. Without moving myself, I reach the saliva covered hand behind me, and in once swift motion plunge two dripping nimble fingers inside my girlfriend.

Her reaction is instant, finally receiving what she’s been begging for, and so intently focused on. “Oh shit,” she says, I’m assuming mainly at the fact that the rings she’s been obsessing over and asked me to keep on were now inside of her, assisting me inside her tight walls. The pace of my middle two fingers pick up, causing her to arch slightly despite my weight on her torso.

“See? Was it so hard to be patient?” I say slightly teasing, grinding my hips forward to stop her from giving me a sassy remark. Caitlins large hands encase my hips, guiding me slightly forward and backward while I continue my relentless pace inside her. The pressure of her flexing abs beneath me combined with her poorly held back moans and breathy sighs when I curl my fingers up into her g spot were enough to send shocks of pleasure up into me, even through my underwear.

My hand begins to hurt uncomfortably from the awkward angle and speed, but I wouldn’t dare slow my grinding or my movements inside her. I plant my hand on her chest, using it as leverage to push myself onto her lower stomach. My hips now act as external pressure, eliciting a whine from my girlfriend. She turns her head to the side, panting with her eyes shut.

A constant buzz of pleasure fills me, so I decide to add a third finger to further Caitlin along.

“Thank you,”Is what I receive in return, the cool metal of my spoon ring and knuckle ring now deep inside her. My third finger was clearly what she needed to amp up her pleasure.

“How long?” I ask.

“What?” She says, clearly confused and fuzzy from the stimulation. “How long have you wanted this,” I slow my movements, hoping to get an answer.

She meets my eyes for just a moment, but lays her head back again and closes them, licking her lips in avoidance. I press my fingers into her as deep as they can reach, hard. She gasps.

“It doesn’t-“ another thrust, “it doesn’t matter okay.”

I stop my movements all together.

“Answer my question and you can finish, prettygirl,” I drawl, hoping the pet name I knew as her weakness would help my case.

“I said-“ she starts sassily, I begin to pull my fingers out at her denial.

“Wait wait fuck, no okay,” she rushes out, meeting my eyes desperately and trying to reach past my hip to grab my wrist unsuccessfully. I raise my eyebrows, keeping my fingers half out of her, feeling her pulse around the tips.

She takes a few steadying breaths, and opens her mouth to talk while still turning her head away from me. A simple glide of my hand off her chest and onto her chin allows me to turn her to look at me. “I won’t ask again, how long have you wanted my rings to stay on.”

“A while…” she appears to be thinking hard despite her clear embarrassment, “probably since that day in the car.” She says.

I wrack my brain as to what she’s referring to, and recall a late night drive turned quick fuck in the backseat after I said I couldn’t sleep.

She had ridden my fingers in my lap with her hand around my neck, not choking me but it was the thought that I knew she could that did it. She had sat herself atop my thighs, only taking the time to take off my middle two rings before sinking herself down onto my fingers, her own already working me up for my second orgasm. It was a rushed affair full of bitten lips, necks left bruised and seats left stained. Cait had confessed to me while driving that she thought about what it would be like to be rougher with me, leaving more marks and even choking.

This night however, was over three weeks ago, and we had fucked many times after that (many incorporating her rougher thoughts).

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted them inside you,” I whisper, leaning down slightly to take the weight off my hips, but also to force her to keep looking at me.

“Didn’t know if it’d be okay and…” she trails off. I give her a moment before she gathers any courage she has left and finishes, “it meant having to ask you to keep them on, and bottoming at the same time and that’s just- I can’t just-“ she sighs, clearly embarrassed and frustrated.

“From now on I want you to tell me if there’s something like this on your mind, okay? And besides,” I lean down close to her ear, making her breath hitch, “you’re so fuckin pretty when you’re flustered.” I make my point by plunging my fingers back into her, and she gasps before I kiss her neck, sitting back up.

I return to my relentless pace, hoping to actually make her finish after all this teasing and edging.

With all three decorated fingers now seated deep inside her wet, pulsing cunt, I bring my thumb up to circle her clit. The closest thing I’ve ever gotten to a true moan from my girlfriend graces my ears, spurring me to start grinding again.

Minutes into this process, she bucks her hips hard enough to make me gasp. Her thighs start to shake a steady rhythm. Each time I would push back in, her hips would grind down into my hand, and her strong thighs would twitch when I began to pull back out. Her gasps and breathing turned to swears and whines, telling me she was close.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck, I’m- babe don’t stop, please I swear don’t stop I’ll be good don’t stop,” she repeats a mantra of cuss words and pleas the closer she gets to finishing. Her promise of being good is new, but we’ll come back to that. Her slick is already pouring out of her and onto my stiffening hand.

I wouldn’t dream of denying her again. Besides, she’s strong, and scary when she’s mad.

Her legs bend inwards, head thrown back, mouth gasping and attempting to form words, and she finishing on my hand with a loud whine as her nails dig into my hips. I feel her cunt squeeze around all three fingers, her cum making each of them slide in and out as I keep my steady pace, bringing her through her second -but well deserved- orgasm. Her twitching and clear pleasure sends me over the edge with her, my own body tensing and arching on top of hers.

The thought of what we look like from the outside keeps the shockwaves of pleasure coming.

Finally, I slow my grinding and fingers to a stop, catching my breath a moment before I fall over. My girl looks fucked out beneath me, and I see a single tear track run down the side of her face.

I slowly pull my fingers out of her, which causes Caitlin to open her eyes like it was the hardest thing ever. I make sure she’s looking when I suck her juices off my fingers, going back in with my tongue to get her cum from around my rings.

I finally find the energy to roll off her, keeping my arm strewn across her rib cage as we both catch our breaths. “You did so good baby,” I say, kissing her cheek and moving closer to her warm body that was glistening with sweat. A soft “mhm,” is all I get in return, exhaustion clearly plaguing my girlfriend.

“You gotta go pee sweet girl,” I say softly, moving hair out of her face and eyes. “Of course after fucking me within an inch of my life the first thing you’re thinking about is a UTI,” Caitlin laughs with her voice taking on a rougher note, telling me she was louder than I thought.

“I’ll take it you liked it then?” I tease. “Yeah you asshole, I did,” she says in response, referencing my edging and mean tactics. I smile, kissing her cheek, followed by her temple and forehead. My hands tenderly rub over her stomach and hips as I try to soothe any other aches.

Finally she pulls away from my grasp, heading towards her adjoining bathroom.

While Caits gone, I take off my rings finally, making a mental note to wash them really well later, and slip under the covers, removing my soaked underwear in the process. Her warm body slides into the bed next to mine, her long arms enveloping me in a blanket of comfort, despite our earlier actions.

She speaks first, “I do trust you, you know that.” I wait for her to continue, “It’s just hard for me to say what I want to say, you make me nervous you know.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but this fragile confession wasn’t it. I turn in her arms to face her. My hands find her face immediately, her vulnerable eyes finding mine in return. I stare into her beautiful features for a moment, just savoring this bubble of time. “I’ll always be patient with you when it matters,” is all I softly say, hoping she gets my message.

“Besides, you’re always in charge, what’s wrong with me making you nervous for once.” I joke. This makes Caitlin laugh, her hands ghosting over my back. She kisses me softly, melting my body and soul into hers. She’s the first to pull away after a few heartbeats, “I love you,” she whispers into my lips.

I kiss her again before replying, “I love you too, even if you think I’m scary.”

“Woah now I said you make me nervous, ain’t no one afraid of your 5’6” ass.” She says through small laughter. I pretend to act offended, even turning my head towards the ceiling to avoid her.

Her gentle hand cups my jaw, turning my face back towards her before saying, “I love your ass though if that counts for anything.” Her comment earns her a slap on the bicep and a disapproving head shake, even if I’m smiling ear to ear throughout my scolding.

She pulls me closer before I can say anything else. So close it feels like she’s trying to weld our hearts together, my head tucked into her neck and hers resting on my shoulder.

Eventually I hear her breathing even out, and I too join her in dreamland to the thought of how lucky I am to have a girl like Caitlin, even if I’m scary.

[blissfullsvn]

if i say, i love you

summary. after a long day, all you really want is to be in taesan’s arms.

pairing. han taesan x reader genre. fluff, established relationship word count. 0.9k warnings. n/a a/n. fun fact: this wasn’t the original taesan fic i wanted to post for his bday bcs stms it’s easier to write sth in 3 hrs than finish a draft you’ve had for the past 5 months 👩‍🦯 but as always, please enjoy this, and i hope everyone gets to have their own taesan in their lives :) masterlist

you and taesan have never been overly touchy with each other. it’s not that you both dislike physical touch; you just tend to express your feelings more often through quiet moments spent together.

today, however, you need taesan more than ever.

you trudge inside your shared apartment, your body feeling unbearably heavy. taesan is sitting on the sofa with headphones and his ipad propped up on his knees, a contemplative look on his face. it’s a familiar sight, one that occurs whenever a new idea for a composition strikes in his head and he has to record it down immediately, so you usually leave him alone to not disrupt his creative process.

seeing this, you force yourself to stand by the door, hoping for at least a greeting before you can retreat inside your room—if your boyfriend was busy, you’d rather break down without him seeing.

almost immediately, taesan looks up and smiles, the kind where his eyes are squeezed into crescents and whiskers appear under them. but when he finally sees you, he instantly plants his feet on the floor, setting his ipad aside and ripping off his headphones.

“y/n?” his voice is soft and gentle. he always treats you like a delicate flower; it makes you feel like you can fall apart in his presence and he’ll be there to pick up your pieces.

“y/n,” he calls again, and he’s about to get up before you briskly walk towards him and all but jump on him.

with your knees on either side of him, you wrap your arms around his neck and drop your head on his shoulder. noticeably, taesan tenses at the uncharted touch, and a moment of hesitation lingers. but his arms quickly shoot up to envelop you, hands resting firmly on either side of your torso as he holds you tightly against himself.

he remains silent, letting you take in his warmth as he gently caresses your back. you nuzzle against his neck, wanting to get as close to him as you can. despite his surprise at your touch, he doesn’t make it known and mirrors your actions, nosing your collarbone as he pulls you even closer.

you thought you would break into tears immediately in his arms, but the more you lean into his touch, the more you feel your weariness dissipate, until the huge lump in your throat eventually melts as well.

sensing your breathing calm down and your body turning lax against his, he places a kiss on your neck and whispers against your skin: “i’m here.” it’s a simple declaration; two words that neither push you to speak nor stop you from sharing, but just to remind you that, whatever it is, he’s always by your side.

“i… had a bad day today,” you begin, and taesan’s hold on you never once falters. as you tell him about what happened, his fingers continuously draw idle circles on your back, and he hums softly to reassure you that he’s listening.

“how do you feel now?” taesan, gentle as ever, asks after you stop talking.

“...a lot better,” you confess and nuzzle against his neck again, landing a peck there to emphasize your point.

“i’m glad.” the smile is evident from his voice alone, even if you can’t see his face.

a few more moments of silence pass between you, the two of you simply relishing each other’s company. it’s only when you catch taesan’s ipad light up with a notification from your peripheral vision that you remember what he had been doing before your almost-break-down.

you pull yourself away, but your hands remain on his shoulders, as do his on your waist. “you were composing something before this, right?” your eyebrows are knitted in guilt, lips jutting out similarly. “sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt you… you can continue now.”

“no, don’t apologise,” taesan replies immediately, shaking his head. he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ears and smiles, fondness seeping from every pore, “i’ll always put you before anything else.”

it’s strange how the emotions you initially expected to spill over from your negative experiences today are now threatening to escape from these seven words instead. with the lump returning to your throat once again, you don’t trust your voice to speak.

instead, you move your hands to cup his face and lean down to place your lips on his, letting your body do the talking instead.

with every movement, your feelings translate from your heart to his. his grip on your waist tightens as he cranes his neck to capture more and more of these feelings, until both of you are rendered breathless from all the emotions filling your bodies, squeezing around your ribs, your lungs, and your hearts.

when you pull away, the dazed look on taesan is something that you want to carve into your mind forever. for someone who’s never uncomposed, the fact that he’s been rendered like this, and because of you, makes your insides twist with something far greater than you can explain.

“i love you.”

for now, you’ll settle with the word ‘love.’

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

[fumiscripts]

✦ BIRTHDAY PRINCESS

✦ one shot ,, michael kaiser x gn!reader

✦ content:: coming back from an overseas match, kaiser didn't expect to find you literally slide towards him to greet him for his birthday

fluff/crack, 1580 words

additional:: reader has ZERO shame, affectionate asf reader, slight suggestive joke but it's so corny we js ignore it, loving kaiser so hard he almost freaks out but the keyword is almost, author did not know what she was doing, semi-rushed ending but that's because author wanted to clutch this for his birthday, swearing warning though I believe people are already used to that

You had a card up your sleeve.

No, seriously. You had a card up your sleeve at the moment. Not a playing card, though. It was a birthday card. For who? Your not-so-lovely boyfriend: Michael Kaiser. Well, now that you think of it, you did have another card up your sleeve. You planned to be a little devious. Just a little. You swear you won't be a public nuisance by doing this.

It's December 24th, a few minutes before midnight. You were in a private lobby of an airport, equipped with a portable speaker and a semi-charged phone, waiting for Kaiser— who was returning from an overseas match— just so you could drive him back home and make him your passenger prince, as a sign of affection, of course.

You kept looking around, staring at the signs that showed flights, waiting for his flight's status to turn to ‘arrived’. It's been a good few hours of waiting, already. You swore you got here right when the sun finished setting. This shit is taking forever. Then again, it was the holidays, so it's to be expected that places like the airport were bustling with people and fully booked flights, which might be the cause of delays.

Right as you thought you might crash out from waiting, they finally announced the planet's arrival. You ascended in joy, proceeding to basically cheer to the heavens above inwardly. You burnt holes into the door of the lobby with just your gaze, going back to your plan of totally not embarrassing both of you in front of the team.

The entrance handle twisted, and the door opened. You see the iconic blond and blue locks as he walks through, and you're filled with familiarity. On cue, you press the play button on your phone, making his eyes snap to you as the audio plays obnoxiously loud through the room.

You catch a brief glimpse of a judgemental expression on Kaiser's face. He barely had any time to ask you what in the actual hell you were doing, before you were already sliding to him on your knees, in sync with the lyrics from the song that blasted from the speakers connected to your phone

“THERE GOES MY BABYYYY.”

“What the fuck–?” his curse was cut off by you making contact with him. He was utterly flabbergasted, and you were just calmly latching onto his torso, just like the clip of this trend you were referencing. Kaiser suddenly grows aware of what was going on, as well as his surroundings, and he suddenly felt like hissing and thrashing away from you like an angry cat that did not want to be picked up.

You were not letting go, though.

With your arms wrapped around his waist, you were completely content with staying like that beside him. He was comfortable to hold, anyway.

Yes, you were just completely ignoring the way he was attempting to peel you off of him like you were some disgusting tick that clung to him. You could tell some of his teammates in the room were staring at you two, too, but you could care less. Hey! At least you didn't do this in public public, right?

You acquired a minor bruise on your side because of that little stunt.

Kaiser accidentally kicked you while trying to shake you off of him. But you could say it was worth it. You wanted to try the trend on him, but he didn't agree like the killjoy he was, saying that ‘he wasn't gonna entertain any of your fantasies about being able to hold him like that, even though that desperate display might be amusing.’ This was the only opportunity you could think of. You definitely had no other choice, so fuck it, you went ball and did it.

Now, he was staring at you— practically scolding you silently. You smiled it off because you were just a chill guy. “I have another card up my sleeve,” you remarked. That sentence alone had him debating whether to question how he was into you or to play along. Kaiser decided to do both, with the former being to himself, and the latter being what he did to you.

“Don't you dare pull some weird shit,” he muttered under his breath, sounding a bit exasperated, before sighing and replying more forwardly. “And that is?” Kaiser prompted, waiting for you to reveal whatever you wanted to show him now. He watches you reach into your sleeve, pulling out an actual card. You took his hand, planting the parchment into his palm— facing down— before retracting your arms, wearing an innocent smile in your face that just screamed mischief.

He looked back and forth between you and the letter in his hands, like you just handed him a ticking bomb. “It's a card for you. Open it,” you urged, and Kaiser could notice how enthusiastic you were, eager to see him read whatever was written. He hesitantly turned his gaze back down at it, unfolding and reading it, purposefully not out loud because he just knows it’s some bizzare freak.

Happy Birth ay!

I’ll give you the d later. ;)

These words were bolded. Kaiser’s eyes went back to you— still smiling with faux innocence— and stared at you disapprovingly, as if you were some abnormality. “...What the fuck?” he asks, making you grin wider in your successful tomfoolery. It was too late for this— or rather, too early. It's already 12 in the morning.

“Isn’t it amazing?” you comment, being met with the card being thrown to you, lightly making contact with your face. You gasped in overdramatic offence, easily catching the piece of paper. “Wow, you have no taste in absolute art,” you remark, leading to Kaiser sneering at you.

“I do. You're the one who doesn't,” he replied, heading away from you and to the exit of the airport, acting like he doesn't know you once passing by a more crowded area. He wasn't gonna associate with your weirdness. 

You went after him with the straightest face you could muster. You were nonchalant like that.

Going to his car, he raised an eyebrow when you led him towards the side where the passenger seat was. He was skeptical about you driving. Who can blame him? He rarely sees you drive, plus it's late at night— though he figures you were less tired than him for still being this energetic. He can trust you with not crashing the car this one time, maybe.

You opened the door for him, really putting in effort into making sure he had full service. Inside the vehicle, the first thing he sees is a bouquet of blue roses on the seat. Then, he notices the little crocheted dog plushie beside it. He turns to look at you, a smirk etching on his face, but you could tell it almost resembled a genuine smile. “You've outdone yourself, huh? I'll give you an A for actually pulling this off.”

“How generous of you,” you say in return, gently closing the car door after him. Once you were in the car, yourself, you started the engine, doing all the necessary safety shit like buckling in your seatbelt and whatnot.

When you turned over to where Kaiser was, he was staring at you. Not in the cute affectionate way, more like he was observing you. “Don’t crash,” he instructs after a short, silent staring contest. You simply smile innocently in return— you've been doing that a lot for a while now— and look back to the steering wheel, putting your hand on it and stepping on the pedal.

How fortunate. You can actually drive decently. Enough to bring you two safely from one point to another.

The plush and flowers were placed on his lap, and he found himself fiddling with the blue petals. Usually, he hates surprises. As well as presents. But coming from you, he supposes it's an exception. It might even be endearing. But perhaps that was just his personal bias due to being your boyfriend.

Kaiser leans on the car window, feeling the cool glass against his skin. You could almost feel those azure eyes watching you while you navigate through the streets, but you kept your own on the road. You could see how his gaze is almost soft, and how the mask of confidence and self-assurance he refused to not wear around others wasn't plastered on his face. You could tell that it was a sight that only you had the privilege of seeing.

It was nice to see him be like this— genuine without hiding behind a constructed facade. It might be cheesy, but you’d forever cherish the way he willingly lets his guard down around you. You could say that that's one of the reasons you like to do things for him.

And to him, having you— someone he found himself genuinely trusting— around was alike to having found a solace. Like a place of refuge. Whenever it was just you and him, he didn't have to be Kaiser: the German prodigy, a football star. He could just be Michael.

Plus, though he might never admit it to you nor himself, he's found himself starting to like the way you give him affection. He's been deprived of it for too long, and you're willing and ready to give it to him with warmth. 

Maybe he could get used to gifts— especially when it's coming from you.

(a/n):: I can't do this I love him sm ANW happy birthday Kaiser ml my pretty wife <33 and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!

taglist: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku

@lakeside-paradise

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[charcarts]

tamamo no mae’s your zoroark- Bonus flavor text:

>Sealed somewhere deep within the snowy mountainside, this Pokemon was said to have once walked among humans, wreaking chaos wherever it went.

>Hidden far from civilization, it’s rumored that if the seal containing this Pokemon were ever to break, great evil would befall the land.