#he makes everything better and I appreciate it so much

[cottagecore-moss-king]

Well darn. This wasn’t how his day was supposed to go. Of course, when Sivana decided to try and make his way out of Fawcett to who knows were, Marvel had called in some of the League members. And of course Sivana screwed up the magic and technology mix he was operating. When doesn’t he?

So, here he was, fighting along side his crew as they try to take down the giant robot. 

“Hey Sivvy! You know, it’s a-bot time you try something other than giant robots!” He joked as he caught the fist soaring at him. 

A lucky shot from Batman hit part of the exposed wires on the arm he was holding, and Marvel dropped it down. Green and Gold electricity arced around the open wires, and began crawling around the machine.

“I’ll beat you, I’ll beat you all!” Sivana screeched. Honestly though, he does this every month, Marvel has got to find a better way at keeping his rouges from getting supplies. 

The robot lunged at Superman and charged up a green light from it’s blasters. 

“Superman look out!” 

Marvel lunged to push him out of the way of the magic blast. He had hoped that with the speed of Mercury he’d make it out unharmed too, but it seemed like luck was not on his side. 

The magic blast clipped his shoulder, and ripped through the demigod like his own lightning. 

It burned. It felt like his muscles were cramping and crushing under the weight of the sky. And then everything went loose, like he had been released from that extra small box. 

He groaned, but his voice came out much higher than it normally would. Marvel shot up. He hadn’t been de-transformed had he? No, he wasn’t in any pain from when he fell out of the sky.

Are we small again?

It would appear as though the machine that Sivana made has regressed your champion form to a younger age. Solomon was of course the first to speak up, at least speak up with something helpful, as Billy no, Marvel, stared back at their hands. 

I created this form to suit you Batson, this regressed form is still a prime condition of what you may be, despite it’s… eccentricities. 

Oh us! You have sandal wings! I never knew you thought those were cool! 

The gods in Marvels head were all delving into different appearances and whom he may have gotten them from. 

No, obviously he got the lighting from me Mercury, I don’t care if your flashes have lightning, it’s my whole deal.

Looking back at the fight, which had yet to sway either way, it had only been a minute or two since he dropped from the sky. 

Pft, guys how funny would it be if Billy pretended not to know Sivana AND, kicked his ass as a child?

Marvel knew it wasn’t the best, but, all the gods started trying to egg him on.

Come on, I’ll give you 15 minutes of speed in your Batson form~.

I will grant you super strength to fight back the bullies who harass you!

Billy was sold on the idea of just causing chaos, he adored seeing the mayhem he could cause. But the gods offers were also too tempting to resist, and he was down for gaining powers in his Batson form if it means sowing a bit of chaos around.

Granted, Batman or Superman might not appreciate it, but it’ll all be good in the end, he’s sure. Like, 80% sure.

Getting up and dusting himself off, Marvel looked up at Sivana. 

“Πήγαινε από δω τρελό μανιακό!” (Get out of here you crazy maniac!)

He saw the glances that were sent his way by his team mates. Er. Ahem, the ‘strangely dressed people’. He was a little sad that Diana or the Green Lanterns weren’t here to translate, but they would get there eventually.

He was so giddy to realize that when he flew, his little wings on the side of his ankles flapped like they were keeping him in the air. But he didn’t have time to get distracted, he had a maniac to deal with. 

One sonic boom later and Marvels foot was connecting with one of the joints of the large robot. He was going to have fun fighting.

A little snicker came out at Sivana’s face looking out at him through the glass of the head. He could always go straight for the headshot, but where would the fun be in that?

However, the fun was made to come to an end. Before he could even get to Sivana no less! Superman had stepped in and gotten a little to close for comfort for Billy. 

Billy hissed. Honest to the Gods hissed! He was secretly delighted. He always adored animal behaviors, and to be able to communicate without words was awesome. 

“Κάντε πίσω!” (Back off!)

“Hey kiddo, why don’t we head out someplace safer?” He said, kneeling down to be at eye level with Marvel’s new form. 

“ποιος είσαι εσύ? ξένος κίνδυνος!” (Who are you? Stranger Danger!) He drew himself up and puffed himself as big as he could, like a big cat almost. Superman didn’t get the warning, and still reached out and grabbed Marvel’s arm. 

Billy didn’t even get to think before he bit Superman in his arm. His Marvel form was mostly comprised of magic, so he made a pretty good mark on Supes arm. 

“Hey! Not cool kiddo, we gotta get you out of here.”

Billy huffed. He was not amused, and there was no fun in listening to Superman. He could still take on Sivana!

Or he would, if Sivana was still fighting. Someone had pulled him out of his robot and whisked him away. 

While Billy was distracted Superman gathered him up and pulled him into the air. 

“We’re heading back to the watchtower now. Cyborg, can you go get Zatanna or Wonder Woman?”

He can’t leave! He’d have to get back to the Rock in order to find out how to fix this. If he vanishes from the watchtower Batman will be livid!

Thrashing about and wiggling, Billy struggled in Supermans hold. 

“Woah, kid you gotta hold still!”

“Άσε με να φύγω!” (Let me go!)

Superman was determined not to let go of Marvel, but being a street kid had its perks. You knew how to wiggle your way out of adults grasp.

A bit of superspeed and dirty fighting and Billy was back on the ground.

“Hey! Kiddo you gotta get back here! It’s not safe!”

Billy jumped over a fallen tree in his path and continued running. He’d make it to Fawcett eventually, and there he’d be in his home element.

When he finally started to see Fawcett, it was by one of the poorer crime ridden streets. As he ducked and wove through the old and creaking buildings, he came across a warehouse.

Dammit! That’s where that trafficking ring is coming later tonight! I can’t bust it like this!

And a stroke of genius hit him. Solomon would say it’s a stupid idea, but Billy thinks it’ll go just fine. 

Chapter 2:

Billy ignored the Gods protests as he sped into the building. He’d hide out here and wait until the league came and left before leaving and coming back as an adult to bust it. It was perfect!

“Hey buddy, are ya lost?”

Billy whipped around and puffed up at the two sitting in the warehouse. They had cards in front of them and one of them was smoking a cig. 

‘Well shit.’ 

“Don’t cha worry buddy, we won’t hurt ya.”

Billy just sneered at them. ‘Batson luck strikes again.’

“Μιλάτε Ελληνικά?” (Do you speak Greek?)

“Uhhh, Penny, ya got yer phone on ya?” 

“Yeah give me a sec.” the second guy, Penny, pulled his phone out from his pocket and crouched down across from him.

“Could ya say that again buddy?” he asked tapping his lips and making a talking motion then pointing to his phone. 

“Μιλάτε Ελληνικά?” (Do you speak Greek?)

Glancing down at the screen as cigarette guy leaned over. A quick glance and Penny was typing something out and Cig guy went back to the table. 

“Όχι, αλλά έχουμε μεταφραστή. Θέλεις να μείνεις εδώ μέχρι να έρθει η αστυνομία?” (No, do you want to stay here until the police come?)

“Όχι, όχι αστυνομία.” (No, no police.)

Penny and the cigarette guy looked at each other and smiled, turning back to Billy.

“Σίγουρα, γιατί δεν μένεις μαζί μας; Δεν είναι ασφαλές να κυκλοφορείς μόνος.” (Of course. Why don’t you stay with us? It’s not safe to walk around alone.)

Wandering over to the crate they had left their cards and were sitting around, Billy noticed an open pack of cookies next to the game. Penny notices hims staring and grabs a cookie and takes a large bite of it. After a little while he motions to the package and nods his head. 

Billy didn’t really want to find out if they drugged the cookies, but he also had to play up the innocent little kid until his friends saved him. 

He reached out and nibbled on a cookie, it tasted kinda weird, but not stale.

‘Billy you idiot that’s drugged!’

‘I figured that Solomon, thank you for the generous assistance. Now everyone be quite I need to focus.’

Billy slowly finished the cookie, ignoring the gods yelling and arguing, and sat down next to Penny on the floor. 

Penny handed him another cookie, and Billy grabbed and ate it quickly. His Marvel form was pure magic, and invulnerable to most drugs, even ones for metas. But he still needs to pretend it’s doing something to him. Billy put on his acting face and screwed it up like he was in pain. It might have looked more like he was disgusted, but rubbing his stomach helped to seal the deal.

“Awe, little buddy isn’t feeling good. Why don’t cha pick ‘im up and comfort the lil guy.” While Cig guy certainly didn’t sound mocking, Billy still felt offended at being treated like a baby. He couldn’t show it though without breaking his cover, and so he let himself be lifted by Penny and dropped in his lap. What would be a soothing hand in a different situation ran up and down his back, occasionally combing through his hair.

“I think Donny’ll like him. Get ‘im nice and wrapped up pretty fer her and we’ll make an even prettier penny.”

Billy racked his brain trying to remember who Donny was. He didn’t have all of the code names memorized, but had them on a list back at the rock. 

“Yeah, she likes when they’re too small to fight back. And this one looks skinny enough to-”

BANG!

“Unhand my brother you bastards!”

Part 3

Billy shot up at the warehouse door slamming violently open. In the middle of the doorway stalking forward viciously was Wonder Woman. She sprinted towards the two when they made a run for it and launched herself at Penny. 

Grabbing his collar she jerked him back connecting his skull with her fist in a sickening crack. Penny went boneless in her grasp and she let him drop to the floor. 

A couple of other league members had filled in after her, and were now approaching them. Batman and Superman were on the other side of the warehouse, preventing Cig guy from escaping out the back. 

“Γεια σας εκεί μικρούλα.” ( Hello there little one.)

“Γεια σας, ποιος είστε;” (Hello, who are you?)

“Είμαι η Νταϊάνα, Είμαι ήρωας με τους φίλους μου.” (I am Diana, I’m a hero with my friends.)

Diana was acting much nicer than Superman did. She had even crouched down so that she was closer to Billy’s level on the floor. 

“Κατευθύνομαι σε ένα ασφαλές σπίτι. Θα θέλατε να γίνετε μέλος μας;” (I’m heading to a safe house. Would you like to join us?)

Diana waited patently for Marvel to respond, as he looked around at the heroes. Superman was very specifically not looking at him, either that or the wall was the most interesting thing in the world to him. Batman was engaged in a conversation with the Flash and Nightwing, and Red Hood and Robin were sulking in the shadows.

“Είναι σύμμαχοί μου, δεν θα σας κάνουμε κακό. Έχεις το λόγο μου ως Πριγκίπισσα.” (They are my allies, we will do you no harm. You have my word as a Princess.)

Billy turned to look Diana dead in the eye while pointing to Superman and saying “Έχει άβολη γεύση” (It has an unpleasant taste).

Diana followed his direction and looked over at Superman, who was doing anything to avoid looking at Baby Marvel, and struggled to keep from laughing. 

“Λοιπόν, δεν πρέπει να τον φας αγαπητέ. Δεν είναι βρώσιμος.” (Well you mustn’t eat him dear. He isn’t edible.)

Billy looked over at him, still desperately ignoring the two of them looking at him. 

“γιατί δεν πάμε να ζητήσουμε συγγνώμη.” (Why don’t we go and apologize.) She stood up and held out her hand for Marvel to grab. Billy reached out and did what he thought a scared kid would do. He wanted to bite, but he didn’t want to be mean to Diana, she was like his sister! So, he grabbed her hand with both of his and clung tightly to her. 

When they approached Superman he knelt down before finally looking at Billy and offering a small smile. 

“Λυπάμαι που δαγκώνω.” (I’m sorry for biting.) Superman just blinked for a few minutes, before Diana was able to translate. 

“He says that he is sorry for biting you Kal.”

“Ah, it’s no problem kiddo, we were both just worried.” When Diana went and translated Superman’s forgiveness, and knelt down besides him.

Billy plopped down on the floor and curled up next to Diana. He loved cuddling with his family, and Diana was always so comforting. 

Diana and Kal engaged him in conversation, with Diana allowing for translation between the two when Flash sped over. 

“Hey y’all how’s it, Woah!”

For the crime of sneaking up on Billy and startling him, his punishment was to be kicked. Unfortunately with the man moving at superspeed, Billy missed, but the effort and message was there. 

“Sorry there kiddo, didn’t mean to scare you!”

Billy just stared up at him with big eyes as he apologized and crouched down. 

“The names Flash, can I chat with Diana real quick?”

Billy could hear Mercury gushing over how lovely flash was, and how proud he is to have helped create the speedsters, and saying many other not very PG 13 things about him.

Billy just ignored him as Diana translated, and was ready to just chill with Diana while they talked, until she got up and walked away with Flash. Superman must have seen the anxiety in his eyes, as he talked calmy to him. He talked on about the weather and the fact that his dog was playing catch and maybe they could meet one day. It was all boring stuff, but Billy didn’t mind, he wasn’t supposed to be able to understand it any ways. 

“All righty, where’s the little bugger?” Billy perked up at the familiar British accent. Constantine was here! He’d fix this right up and then he wouldn’t have to make Batman angry about magic in the watchtower!

He almost ran over to Constintine, but decided not to. It’s not like he doesn’t like his kid form, it’s just… he gets treated like a kid already, and Marvel is the only one that gets treated like an adult. He kinda misses it. 

“He’s over here Constantine, don’t startle him, he’s got good reflexes,” snickers Superman waving over the magician. Diana came back to crouch beside Billy and began speaking to him. 

“Ο σύντροφός μου ο Κωνσταντίνος θα κάνει κάποια μαγικά για να αντιστρέψει αυτό που είναι πάνω σου. Θα καθίσετε ακίνητος για αυτό;” (My partner Constantine is going to do some magic to reverse what is on you. Will you sit still for this?)

Billy nodded his head, the gods groaned, they weren’t done causing chaos, but they never were, so he just ignored it. 

Constantine didn’t bother introducing himself, just getting the materials out and setting it up around Billy. Superman and Diana backed up out of his way, but stayed near by for support. Wither the support was for Constantine or him Billy didn’t know.

Standing up tall and holding his hands out in front of him, Constantine began to speak,

“ .mrof tluda sih ot kcab noipmahC eht nruT” (Turn the Champion back to his adult form.)

Tingling and a prickling sensation shot through him, and a small sphere of golden light appeared around him. 

The floor swayed under him, wait no- that’s just Billy swaying. But, he was much higher visually than before. And a lot larger. Billy would be relived, if he could quell the nausea in his stomach. 

“Marvel, how are you feeling?”

He brought a hand up to motion for them to pause, but had to put it back down to keep from falling over. 

“Mmhm, gim’e sec.” he muttered. Taking slow and deep breathes, Marvel waited patiently for the world to stop acting like a boat on the sea. He could feel a hand on his shoulder as someone knelt besides him. 

“Are you feeling ill brother?”

It was Diana, thank the Gods for her. Marvel nodded, and then looked up. 

“Just give me a minute Di, I’ll be good.” His smile was a little shaky, but he felt it could be excused. 

“Marvel, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You can come write your report tomorrow.”

He got up and stretched, being small really felt weird when you went back to being big suddenly. 

“Thanks Supes, I think I’l take you up on that, see you tomorrow.”

“Will you be alright heading back? Perhaps an escort would do you well.” Marvel shook off Diana’s worry with a wave.

“No, I’m feeling a bit better already, it won’t be an issue. I’ll just skip patrolling today.” Marvel headed for the doors and slipped out, waving goodbye to everyone as they went back to talking and moving around with the two guys.

‘I wonder why there were so many people there. They can’t have al come to pick me up. I can ask about it tomorrow.’

The next day Marvel strolled into the Watchtower feeling much better. 

“Hey guys! How’s it going!”

“Ah Marvel! I’m glad to see you’re doing all right, Flash was telling us what happened earlier.” Hal was talking to Flash, who was clearly telling an animated story, apparently about the day before. 

“Ah yeah, thanks for the assist guys. Why were there so many of you though? I couldn’t have been that difficult to catch.” Marvel knew he was definitely that difficult to catch, but how could they have figured it out.

“Oh, Batsy hacked into the cams and saw what was going on, and ran a background check on the guys when we got ready to pick you up. Turns out they were Meta traffickers who had a few points in child sex trafficking as well. We got real worried about ya and ran on over to help. Diana wasn’t very happy so they’re all pretty much in the hospital, and those who aren’t are firmly in jail.”

Marvel’s eyebrows shot up at that information. He’d known they were meta traffickers, but not child sex traffickers! He’s kinda glad that Diana had busted in when she did, otherwise who knows what would’ve happened. And he’s glad he still was able to get them caught, even if it wasn’t his intention. 

“Well, I guess I owe Diana and Bats a thank you present huh,” he joked weakly, and Flash just patted his arm. 

“It’s alright Marvel, I’m sure they’re just glad you didn’t get ah… sold to someone with bad intentions.” Flash was quick to exit the awkward conversation, and so was Hal. 

Marvel just sighed, he’s still getting those thank you presents, and maybe he’s add a small something for Flash for trying to help at least. But right now he needs to write his report. 

So, Plot Idea.

For one reason or another. Captain Marvel (Aka; non-feral Billy Batson) has to with the JL fight against someone or whatnot. Yet, somehow, he accidentally gets de-aged.

But the twist.

He does not just go back to little sweet mortal Billy Batson; no Captain Marvel form becomes younger. And he not the same age as Billy, it more between the ages of 6-8, instead of Billys actual 10-12 year of age. For the cherry on top is that he is dressed in traditional clothing, as it makes him seem older than he actually is. But since Soloman was like let’s give you something as cool as Eldrich Memory, he remembers everything.

But because he knows what happened doesn’t mean he would not stir shit up.

He looks around confused (playing his role), then the villain starts their monolog. And Billy is like ok, time for some fun, and curb stomps the villain all why laughing. The rest of the JL are just watching in horror as a 6-8 year old is beating the life out of the emery with such ease. When they try to calm the child, only to have a hiss and Billy acting like the true feral cat he is, because he has ‘no idea who they are’.  He even goes as far as speaking a very old and dead language that they don’t understand.

All why this is happening his gods are laughing and egging him on.

[hitomisuzuya]

stepcest Scara catching reader listening to whimper audios so he helps her get off by fingering her till she cums the same time the whimper audio did PLSSS your fics are so delicious long ily

stepcest, DNI if it makes you uncomfortable, please. scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. fingering. squirting. masturbation. one word of degradation.

thank you so much, dear🥺 i appreciate your kind words.

you have been very frustrated lately. you have to do something to vent the enormous crush you have on your stepbrother. especially lately, even trying to make causal conversation with him or accidentally brushing up against him in passing often left you incredibly wet.

whimper audios were your best friend. when no one was home, listening to them was the quickest, easiest way for you to get yourself off.

you usually took extreme precautions, leaving your clothes right next to you in case you had to dress in a hurry. however, things don't always work out exactly like you anticipated.

scaramouche was being treated to quite the sight right now. leaning in the doorway of your room, he feasted his eyes on you in only your panties, your legs spread and one hand tugging and pinching your nipple. the fingers of your other hand hastily skating over your clit, your eyes squeezed shut as your hips rocked up to grind your clit on the pads of your fingers.

you twitched and squirmed restlessly, occasionally giving your other nipple attention. you are struggling to muffle your moans despite the fact that you thought you were alone.

"scaramouche. scaramouche," you moan so cutely, your fingers messily skating across your throbbing clit a little faster each time you whimpered out his name. you are practically shaking, gripped with the need to find some sort of sexual relief. the rapid build up of pleasure gathering in your clit, your walls squeezing around nothing made you careless. forgetting everything around you, leaving with no awareness.

consumed by thoughts of scaramouche doing things to you that would make you whimper like the ones in the audio.

smirking, scaramouche walked over to your bed, and plucked one of your ear buds out of your ear. "are you kidding me?" he asked, putting the earbud in his ear out of curiosity. "there are better things out there to get yourself off."

you didn't think you'd ever been so startled in your life. your fingers automatically left the inside of your panties, your arm immediately going up to cover your chest. stunned, you realized that you would rather anyone else walk in on you but your step brother.

"scara! what are--" you sputtered, your cheeks couldn't have felt warmer from embarrassment. "you can't just walk in here. i thought you left for the afternoon," you practically smacked the pause button on your phone.

"what? like you are mad about it," he teased, holding your ear bud out of your reach as you lunged for it. "don't stop on my account. please, continue. i was getting hard and enjoying the show."

your mouth dropped open, genuinely at a loss for what to say. you watched, wide eyed as he reached over and rewound your audio. "what are you doing?" you asked, reaching for your clothes.

scaramouche put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down on your bed. "you poor thing. i can tell from the way your body was twitching that you are so pent up," he purred, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed darker. "let me help you out," parting your legs, his knuckles brushed against your pussy outside of your panties.

"what? would you really?" the words tumbled out of your mouth. you shouldn't be this position with your stepbrother, nor should you say such things to him. but here you were, more wet oozing onto your puffy, neglected pussy just from the thought of scaramouche helping you out.

"of course," he continued in a honeyed, slightly condescending tone as he pressed play. "what kind of stepbrother would i be if i didn't help my precious stepsister discover there are better ways to get off," he nudged your panties aside, his cock pulsing feeling you soak on his fingers as they dipped between your folds. "especially since you were thinking about me the whole time."

"i wasn'-" you protested, shivering as your hips twitched to grind on his fingers as they grazed your clit teasingly.

"oh, no?" scaramouche circled your clit before giving it a light, wet smack. your hips jolted off the bed, and you moaned like your body had just gotten something it'd been deprived of all your life. "scaramouche, scaramouche," he mocked your earlier moans, tracing the outline of your sopping cunt, "please, you sounded so pathetic it was adorable," he pushed two fingers inside of you.

his fingers launched an all out assault on your pussy, hooking his fingers to the knuckle and slowly stretching you apart. he timed the strokes into your sweet spot with the whimpers in the audio, your juices pooling syrupy onto his fingers as he pumped them in and out of you.

"your whimpers sound so similar to the ones in your silly audio," scaramouche snickered, his eyes following your hand as it scrambled up to pinch and roll your nipple "how cute," he pulled his fingers out of you, sweeping them up to rub and tease your clit.

you mewled as your walls squeezed empty around nothing, desperate to swallow his breathtaking fingers back inside your cunt. it wasn't long before your whimpers mingled in time with the audio. you quite frankly were in awe at his skill, skill you'd cum so hard thinking about him actually having. and it more than showed in your pleasured, fucked out expression as he bullied your sweet spot.

"that's my good girl. keep looking at me just like that," he emphasized the last three words with harsher pumps, making pleasure shatter through your core. "keep looking at me like i'm the center of your world. maybe i'll stuff these pretty holes full of toys next time."

you moaned louder hearing the promise of a next time in his voice. "you are practically suffocating my fingers, slut," he groaned, his cock straining and leaking precum in jeans watching you fall apart on his fingers.

your orgasm was building up at a dizzying level, his fingers squelching lewdly as your hips bucked into his fingers. you clawed at his wrist, writhing on the bed. scaramouche chuckled seeing you suddenly squirt all over his fingers. you must not have known you could do that judging from the startled look on your face.

a look that only last a few moments, his fingers hooking into your sweet spot just right. you shook, letting out a high pitched cry of blissed relief, cumming hard on his fingers.

scaramouche fingered you through your orgasm until the audio was finished playing. "see? it was that easy surrendering to me," he purred, licking his fingers clean once he pulled them from your pussy.

[aceyalonso]

F1 drivers if they were on the r/AITAH subreddit

drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto

warnings/notes : jos verstappen 🤮

a/n : i know i said i was on hiatus but c'mon this was such a fun idea

main masterlist | taglist form

So this might sound weird, but here goes. My girlfriend and I (both 23) love visiting new places, and she’s a big animal lover. She found this adorable cat café nearby and has been talking about going for weeks. I wasn’t as excited but figured it’d be fun to surprise her, so I booked us a spot and thought I’d try to make it extra special.

Here’s the thing: I wanted to be "that guy" who shows up with a bag of cat treats so all the cats would flock to us. It sounds ridiculous, but my goal was to make her day. When we got there, I pulled out the treats and instantly had a few cats’ attention. My girlfriend laughed, but within a few minutes, an employee came over, looking annoyed, and told me I couldn't give the cats treats from outside.

Apparently, they have specific diets or something, and I was "interfering." I apologized, put the treats away, and thought that was the end of it. But soon after, another employee came up, saying we were being "disruptive" because all the cats were lingering around us, and they even hinted we might need to leave if it didn’t stop. I hadn’t meant to cause a scene and told them it wasn’t a big deal—we’d stop and just hang out like everyone else. But by this point, my girlfriend was pretty embarrassed, and it killed the vibe of our day.

We left a bit earlier than planned, and now my girlfriend thinks it was a bit of a jerk move, even though she appreciated the effort. I didn’t mean to upset anyone or break the rules, just thought it’d be fun to make the cats a bit more social. But now I’m wondering if I messed up by not sticking to the café’s way of doing things.

So, AITAH?

Edit: I’ve learned my lesson. I will never underestimate the dietary regulations of a cat café ever again.

So, I (24M) have this bad habit of forgetting what’s in my fridge. A while ago, I bought some chicken, but I totally forgot about it, and it just sat there for months. I was cleaning out my fridge the other day and found the chicken at the back, and it still looked fine to me—didn’t smell bad, didn’t look weird—so I thought, "Why not? It’s still good."

I cooked it up, had a nice meal, and didn’t think much of it. But then, later that night, I told my mom about it (thinking she'd just laugh), and she completely freaked out. She went on this whole rant about food safety, salmonella, and how I could’ve poisoned myself. I was just like, "It tasted fine, mom, calm down."

She kept texting me all night asking if I felt okay, if I was getting any stomach pains, and even called a few of my friends to check in on me. Honestly, I’m fine—nothing happened, and I feel perfectly normal.

But now she’s upset with me, saying I’m being careless and that I should never eat food that old, even if it seems fine. I just didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. I mean, people eat leftovers all the time, right? It wasn’t even that old.

So, AITAH for eating chicken that’s been in my fridge for 9 months and making my mom worry unnecessarily?

Edit: Just to clarify, I didn’t intentionally keep it for 9 months. I honestly just forgot about it in the back of the fridge. And no, I’m not sick. Everything’s fine. I promise I won’t be eating anything old again anytime soon!

I (27M) have a dog, Leo, who’s basically my best friend. He’s super friendly and well-behaved, and honestly, I just feel better when he’s around. I bring him everywhere I go – to cafes, parks, and friend gatherings. You name it, Leo’s there. Most people are fine with it because he’s adorable and loves everyone.

Recently, though, my friends have started making comments about it. Last weekend, we met up at this small, cozy café for brunch, and I brought Leo along. He just curled up next to my chair and didn’t bother anyone. But my friend Paul pulled me aside afterward and said it was kind of annoying that I kept bringing Leo without asking. He said not everyone wants a dog around all the time, and it’s “getting old.”

I don’t understand where this is coming from, especially since Leo’s never caused any problems. I figured since no one had said anything before, they were fine with it. Plus, I’m always careful to keep him out of people’s way, and he’s honestly better behaved than most dogs I know. I feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should have checked with everyone first.

So, AITAH for always bringing my dog? Should I have asked before assuming everyone was okay with it?

Edit: Just for context, Leo’s a small dog – not the type to jump on people or bark a lot. He just sits quietly and naps most of the time. Also, I’ve always cleaned up after him when necessary, so he hasn’t left any “souvenirs” for anyone to deal with.

So, I (39M) have this friend, Nico (also 39M), and we’ve been friends since we were kids. We’re both super competitive by nature, and we tend to push each other a lot. Whether it’s video games, sports, or even something like mini-golf, everything somehow turns into a competition between us. It’s mostly just for fun… until recently.

A few weeks ago, we were at a friend’s birthday party, and they had one of those racing setups in the living room. Of course, Nico and I immediately challenged each other, and we both got really into it. I mean, I might’ve been trash-talking a bit (okay, maybe a lot), but we were both laughing, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Well, I ended up beating him by a fraction of a second, and I might’ve celebrated a bit too enthusiastically—think victory lap around the living room, calling him out in front of everyone, the whole deal. After that, Nico got pretty quiet and didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the night. Later, a mutual friend told me that Nico felt like I was “rubbing it in,” and it embarrassed him.

Now I feel bad. I honestly thought we were just having fun and didn’t realize he’d take it so personally. I tried to apologize, but he just brushed it off and hasn’t really been himself around me since.

So… AITAH for taking things a bit too far with my friend, or was it all just part of the usual friendly rivalry?

Edit: We’ve always had this kind of back-and-forth, so I’m not sure why this time it got to him. Just thought I’d get some outside perspective before I bring it up with him again.

Okay, I know this sounds insane, but hear me out. I (30M) love making pancakes, and I’m pretty proud of my recipe. It’s become sort of a tradition to make them for my family when I visit my parents. They’re always really nice about it and say they love them, but... I’m starting to think they’ve just been too polite.

A few weeks ago, I was at my parents’ house and decided to whip up a big batch of pancakes for breakfast. My mom and dad both had seconds, and I thought it was a win. But later that night, my mom started having really bad stomach pains. We took her to the hospital, and she ended up needing surgery for appendicitis. It was a scary experience, but thankfully, she’s okay now.

Here’s where it gets weirder. Just a few days after my mom came home from the hospital, my dad started having the same symptoms. At first, we joked that it was sympathy pains, but he ended up in the ER too, with the exact same issue—appendicitis.

Now my whole family is convinced it was my pancakes. I know logically that my cooking can’t cause appendicitis, but I can’t help but feel responsible because they both got sick right after eating my breakfast. My parents keep joking that they’re never eating my pancakes again, and my siblings have been giving me a hard time about it, saying I’m banned from the kitchen.

So, AITAH for giving both my parents appendicitis with my cooking, or am I just an unlucky chef?

Edit: Just to clarify, I don’t actually think I gave them appendicitis, but the timing is very suspicious, and now my parents are scared of my pancakes. I might need a new family recipe...

So, I (27M) have two cats (Jimmy & Sassy), and they’re pretty much my babies. They’re super affectionate with me but can be a bit picky about who they like. My dad (52M), on the other hand, isn’t exactly a "cat person." He’s more of the “why do you have pets that don’t do anything useful?” type, but he still visits often and tolerates them because he knows they’re important to me.

The other day, my dad came over, and as usual, my cats were lounging on the couch. He decided to sit down and give them a little nudge to move over, but instead of just shuffling away, one of my cats (Jimmy) swiped at his face. It wasn’t a deep scratch, but it was enough to leave a red mark and get my dad pretty annoyed. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit because he was acting all grumpy about it, muttering something about "those spoiled cats."

He got even more annoyed when he saw me laughing and said I should discipline my cats better and not let them scratch people. I tried explaining that cats are territorial and react like that when they’re suddenly pushed, especially by someone they’re not used to. I offered him a band-aid, but he refused and ended up leaving earlier than planned.

Now my mom is telling me I should’ve been more sympathetic and that I should’ve scolded my cat instead of laughing. But honestly, I feel like it was just a normal cat reaction, and my dad knows how they can be. So now I’m wondering, AITAH for laughing when my cat scratched my dad’s face instead of taking it more seriously?

Edit: Just to clarify, my cats don’t usually attack people. They’re very cuddly with me and my friends, but my dad’s not around them enough for them to be comfortable. I’ll definitely make sure he approaches them differently next time... if he ever wants to come back!

So, this might sound a bit weird, but hear me out. I (26M) work at this company, and my boss, "Toto" (52M), and I have a really good relationship. We get along great, share a lot of common interests, and he’s been a bit of a mentor to me. We hang out outside of work sometimes, and every now and then, I’ll stay over at his place after we have dinner or watch a game, just because it’s more convenient.

Recently, my friends found out about this and started making fun of me, calling it “sleepovers” with my boss. I laughed it off at first, but they’ve started saying it’s kind of weird and unprofessional to be that close with your boss. They’re acting like I’m trying to suck up or get some kind of special treatment, but that’s honestly not the case. I just enjoy his company, and we have a good time hanging out.

The thing is, I never really mentioned it to my friends before because it just didn’t seem like a big deal. I figured if I told them, they’d blow it out of proportion (which is exactly what’s happening now). But now they’re saying it’s odd that I didn’t bring it up sooner and that it’s kind of strange to be having “sleepovers” with someone who’s technically in charge of me at work.

So, AITAH for not telling my friends that I sometimes crash at my boss’s place, or are they just overreacting?

Edit: For context, it’s not like I’m staying there every weekend or anything. It’s maybe once a month if we’re having a late night and it’s easier than going all the way back to my place. Plus, he’s got a massive guest room, so it’s not like I’m sleeping on the couch or something. It’s just a practical arrangement

Okay, so I (21M) have a bit of a problem, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even a problem or just something I can’t control. I’ve noticed lately that whenever I’m doing interviews or talking to reporters, I end up coming off as flirting with them, even though I’m not trying to at all.

I’m naturally a friendly person, and I like to joke around and be engaging. But I’ve had a few reporters (and even some photographers) tell me after interviews that I’ve been “charming” or “too smooth” with them. Some of them even hinted that I was “leading them on.” The thing is, I don’t even notice it happening. I just talk to them like I would anyone else, but apparently, I’m making it seem like I’m flirting—without even trying!

One reporter even gave me her number after an interview, and when I asked if she was just being friendly, she said, “You were a little more than friendly.” I was totally confused because I thought we were just having a good conversation about racing. Now I’m worried that I’m giving the wrong impression to people without meaning to, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or make things uncomfortable.

So, AITAH for accidentally flirting with reporters and leading them on when I really don’t mean to? Should I tone down my "natural charm"?

Edit: Just to clarify, I’m not trying to flirt with anyone, reporter or not. I’m just being myself, but it seems like it’s coming off differently than I intended. It’s a bit awkward now, and I’m wondering if I should change how I interact in interviews.

taglist

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

@livsturnioloo @lilorose25 @si1ver06 @zestytimbit @morgrinha

@callsignwidow

[mymegrokosmos]

cheol bf brainrot that no one asked for bc smth a friend sent me sparked a thought tonight so thank k👑 for this one.

I am so sane and normal about this, yup.

seungcheol insists on carrying everything for you. From your purse to your amazon order and even the groceries. Why would you need to handle silly tasks like struggling up to your apartment with big boxes when he's there to do the heavy lifting for you?

On top of being his passenger princess one of the things you took a while to come to a compromise with in your relationship was being taken care of. Letting him do things for you without feeling like you're taking advantage. He insists he does these things for you because he likes to, that it makes him feel better to know you're eating good meals and that he likes when you take over the aux from the passenger seat or talk him through your day while he drives home after work with you on speaker phone.

At first it made you uncomfortable being so pampered all the time. You quickly came to learn the seungcheol's love language is acts of service. Doing these things for you like ordering you dinner when he can't be there to take you out, or picking you up after a night out with your friends when you lose track of time and miss the last bus. So when you eventually start taking joint trips to the grocery store, it's no surprise that you don't get to lift a single finger.

Pushing the cart? He's got it. Reaching the things on shelves too high for you? He's already asking how many you need. Getting your dairy products from the cold freezer section? You stand watch over the cart and stay warm while he picks out the exact brands and flavours he knows are your favourites. And, of course, he insists on carrying the bags back out to the car. You can take a couple of the lightest ones but only because you sulked about it. He insists that he needs you to have one hand free for the keys so you can pop the trunk for him but you both know that's just an excuse to save your pride.

He pouted when you even brought up the possibility of helping so here you are, watching him load the bags while you wonder what good deed you did in your past life to have earned a partner so full of care and genuine love for everyone in his life. It's also just a little bit unfair how handsome he looks in track pants, a plain t-shirt, oversized hoodie and baseball cap perched backwards on his head. He pauses to lift it when he finishes, running a hand through the dark mop of hair that just seems to keep getting longer every time you blink.

"Hey, honey?"

He comes over to see what you need. "Yes jagi?"

The crease in his brows only serves to endear you further. You don't answer right away, too distracted by your fond musings, and it deepens. He taps your cheek gently. You snap out of your thoughts. He looks concerned.

"Everything okay baby?"

You nod. One hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over one half of the set of dimples that just make you want to eat him. He leans into your touch, smiling softly, but doesn't take his eyes from yours.

"You sure?"

You smile. "Yeah. I'm good."

Instead of explaining you just lean up, pressing a kiss to the cheek not currently nuzzling against your palm. He kisses your hand.

"Thank you Cheollie."

"For what?"

"For always being such a gentleman."

He blinks. You know it's just second nature to him. He doesn't think twice about the way he does these things. That doesn't make them any less meaningful or appreciated.

You take advantage of his confusion to plant a kiss on him. He just stares at you when you pull back. Your hand slides down to rest on his chest and that seems to snap him back into action. He pulls you in, one hand on your waist, and blinks at you.

"Baby?"

"Yes Cheol?"

"Do that again." You quirk a brow at him. "Please."

His smile when you pull away, much more slowly and reluctantly this time, is worth it. He isn't even looking when he tugs you a few steps back with him, out of the way of the small car pulling out of the parking spot beside you. When you blink up at him he's still grinning. He holds out a hand for the keys, not letting you go as he gets the passenger door and helps you in.

"Let's go home."

"Mhm."

The smile on his face didn't falter the whole way home. Neither did the hand on your thigh, fingers laced with yours even as he pulled into the parking garage under your building.

Needless to say, you now reward him with kisses all the time. It's the one response to spoiling you that he can't complain about.

[anundyingfidelity]

HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

—

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses. 

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud. 

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?” 

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist. 

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

-

PART TWO

[accio-victuuri]

XZ Album 《我们 WE》 early cpns.

you know we just need a few things to see and it’s a whole bunch of cpns we can produce after 😂😂😂 that’s the magic of being a turtle. lol. we may be interpreting this whole thing wrong but that’s usual when it comes to speculations we make and i think that’s the joy of it.

i’ll start of with this one that made me want to scream and cry:

i mean… shut up…. noooooo… wdym 😭😭😭

why you gotta pull the wei wuxian imagery like that. i’m very very weak for this. the writing mimics that of a red ribbon. of all things. tho the WM here as how fans interpret it and how i think xz intended it to is WM: WǒMen (我们) as in We/Us or WM: We and Me (我和“我们”) (Wǒ hé “Wǒmen”). not to mention that the color scheme of this red is 911005. his bday. everything is intentional.

but still. red ribbon. come on. who can blame us for clowning like this when he makes it so easy. it’s not a secret that the untamed and the role of wwx is important to him career wise and well *ehem* personally *ehem* because of a certain someone. if you don’t wanna look that far then just go with the W as in WANG. lol. and if it’s WM, M flipped is still W. so that’s how transfixed he is with the letter W. i wonder why. 👀

now we move on to the snippets of what the song means & how it’s making us think of wyb’s previous single everything is lovely ( which has a separate cpn too between them )

QQ music said this line connected to the album/song:

“About me, about you, about TA (him/her), or the relationship between people in this big city.”

this is pretty similar to the message of everything is lovely — it’s about appreciating everyone and looking at life and your surroundings as interconnected. they both have that sense in them. what we do and say, it has an effect and we are all related even if it’s a big city we live in. plus the use of TA which does not specify the gender. we love that! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

we get more of an expanded idea too via xzs post of the activity for the release. it mentioned a description. you can substitute the we to us if that reads better to you:

“Some people say that WE are close friends, cats and dogs waiting for us to come home every night are concrete in life.

Some people say that WE make friends with all kinds of emotions... are virtualization hidden inside the heart.

These characters of “ME”, and emotions form different "WE".

We are placed in a prism named "life", where light breaks it down into multi-faceted spaces. We travel through different spaces as lights flow and capture our own colors.

Starting from "Me", feel the intersection related to "Me", and then return to understand "self". What is the "we" behind "Me"?

A trace of emotion, a thing, a friend... The bits and pieces around "Me" all make up "We".

i think if you are someone who have been watching them for a while and the messaging they are sending out then you will see the common theme/connection here. the cats and dogs waiting for us to come home every night. that reminds me of the cpn that they have a cat and dog at home, at some point. and it’s what they want too. the interconnection of you/other people and appreciating everything around you, that’s the vibe i’m getting right now. of course we will know more one we have the song/s and the full lyrics and possibly some backstory from xz.

a coincidence too that the “me and we” is giving the same energy as “ u and i” which is in wyb’s weibo bio. which i know is something UNIQ related but there you go.

what’s more chilling i guess is the “we” was emphasized and used as a caption between them by hui-ge ( cpn about this fansite here which is a primer of sorts but there are other instances aside from what’s there ) which was i have a we / i have us. i mean. come on. too bad they haven’t posted in so long especially because fans were looking too much into them ( cpn about this photo/ post here )

the use of “we” which they have mistakenly said back in 2019 when talking about themselves:

other minor similarities:

* the concept of multiple xz and wyb through something prism/mirror like.

* both xz and ybo using similar captions which is not new but most importantly, starting an activity for fans to participate in. which i’m not sure but possibly other artists do too. but whatever, let’s add that 😂

* and the PINK! because pink is the color of love! what are the chances they will use the same color?

lastly, one of the release dates is 11/19. and as cpfs we have a whole story about that and it’s nice that we get to continue that timeline. cpfs think it’s a confirmation of the importance of this date too ^^

-END.

i surely missed some things on here and that’s fine. if something important comes up i will make a separate post! i’m so excited for this month! xz really blessed us 🥹🥹🥹😅

[halfwayhearted]

Something Changed — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Thinking he’d ruin your night... he did the opposite.

Word Count: 635+

Disclaimer/s — Weirdo ex, banter-ish relationship, that’s it (?).

A/N: I don’t know where I was even going with this

Everything was making you uncomfortable, from the second you stepped out of the house to when you arrived at your friend’s house for a small house party. Except, it wasn’t small. Not at all.

It didn’t make it better that Gavi was also invited. You didn’t hate him per se—you… you don’t know.

He hadn’t bothered you yet. But knowing him, and knowing your friends, unfortunately, you knew that time would, in fact, be coming soon.

And it seemed ‘soon’ would be now, when you felt the couch beside you dip under the man’s weight.

However, it wasn’t him. In all honesty, you wished it was him. Instead, anger coursed through your veins at the sight of your ex-boyfriend sitting next to you. You swallowed hard, “What do you want?”

“Hey,” he hums, his face smug. “Wanted to talk.”

Was he serious? Why was he even here? Standing up from your seat, you grabbed your belongings and said, “Uh-huh. Not in the mood. I’m leaving.”

“Oh, come on!” The man—better yet, boy with how he acted—groans, standing up with you. “It’s been months. Don’t tell me you’re still stuck on what happened between us. It meant—”

“It meant nothing?” You interjected, your voice was flat. Fists clenched at your sides. You couldn’t, and probably wouldn’t, notice, but Gavi was watching intently from across the room.

He wasn’t even sure why your ex was there in the first place. The minute he sat down beside you, he was ready to stride over, but he knew where he stood. So... he stayed rooted in his spot.

“Yes! It didn’t mean anything. If you’d just let me fucking explain then you’d be able to see that.”

Though, the second he saw your ex take a step toward you, he crossed the room and was at your side in an instant, his hand hovering over your bicep like he wasn’t sure if you’d want him to fully rest it there. “Did you need something?”

His expression falters at the sight of Gavi next to you, making him clench his jaw and shake his head. “No, nothing at all. We’re all good.” And with one last, lingering glance, he walks away.

You didn’t know it’d be that easy. What the hell?

“Pablo—” you started, your mouth clamping shut when you saw him open his own to speak.

“I’m sorry. You seemed like you didn’t want him anywhere near you so I intervened. I know you’re going to say you could’ve handled it but I—”

Shaking your head, you lift your hands and gently grasp his forearms. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

You weren’t? Oh, okay. You weren’t… right, right.

“Thank you. I really didn’t want to speak to him and, as much as I hate to admit, I appreciated that a lot. More than you think. So… thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?” He responded, tilting his head. The smirk on his face grew the second he saw your lips part and your face redden. “Huh.”

He isn’t real. “Are you actually trying to ruin this moment?” You drawl. “I’m done. You can leave.”

A laugh escapes his lips as he drops his head. “I’m kidding! You’re welcome. I hope you know I’d do it again, even if I know you can handle it.”

“Yeah? Well… I hope you know I wouldn’t mind.”

“You wouldn’t mind? At all?”

You were really pushing it. “At all,” you confirmed.

That’s when something flickered in Gavi’s eyes, something you couldn’t quite decipher but wished you could. You’re even more surprised when his hand grazes the arm that’s still holding his. His voice is low but loud enough for you to hear, “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

“What, already?” You teased softly, “Yes, I would.”

Perhaps this night wouldn’t end how you thought.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @gadriezmannsgirl ! ౨ৎ

[aventurineswife]

Hey !!! How are you?? I love what you write so much so ure so talentedd !!

Also could u do an aventurine x reader where like they started dating not long ago and like aventurine notices self harm marks on reader’s arms ?? (If ure comfortable w/ that ofc)

“You Drew Stars Over My Scars”

Summary: In the early stages of your relationship, Aventurine notices scars on your arm. With quiet compassion and understanding, he addresses it gently, offering his support without judgment. As you share a vulnerable moment, he reassures you that he’s there for you, bringing lightheartedness and warmth to ease the conversation.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Emotional Support, Fluff and Angst, Healing.

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, References to past emotional struggles

A/N: HELLO!!! I'm doing alright and I hope you are doing alright as well!! Thank you for appreciating my work! I put my best effort into writing each character as accurately as possible, even while balancing my personal life, so your support means a lot to me! 🤭💖🫶 Don’t worry about your request—I’m comfortable with it. But for anyone struggling with something similar, please reach out to someone you trust completely. It may not seem like much, but sharing is better than keeping everything to yourself. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here! Don’t hesitate, and remember to love yourself more! ❤️

It was one of those rare, quiet evenings. Aventurine had cleared his typically packed schedule, something he was only too willing to do since the two of you had started dating. After a whirlwind start, tonight felt like a pause – a chance for him to simply be with you, away from the risks and wagers that often defined his world.

You sat beside him on the couch, your arm resting casually against his. Aventurine noticed a faint change in your body language – a hint of self-consciousness, a slight turn of your wrist. The faint movement caught his eye, and he saw them – the small, faded scars along your arm.

He glanced up, meeting your eyes with a gentle look, saying nothing at first, allowing you the space to choose whether to share or to stay silent. But his hand reached out, fingers brushing along your forearm. The gesture was soft, free of judgment or expectation, just a comforting presence.

"Can I ask about these?" Aventurine asked softly, his tone inviting but unintrusive.

You hesitated, not used to this level of openness, especially when it came to scars from a part of your past you were still trying to make peace with. You shifted slightly, averting your gaze, but Aventurine’s hand gently anchored you there, his thumb brushing softly over your wrist. His eyes, usually so full of confidence, held only a quiet, calming sincerity.

“It was… it’s something I went through,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “It’s… something I still struggle with, sometimes.”

Aventurine listened, his hand never leaving yours, his gentle touch reminding you that he was there, that he was listening and would wait as long as you needed to feel safe in sharing. After a beat, he spoke, his voice thoughtful and warm.

“You know,” he began softly, “I can’t pretend to know exactly what you’ve felt, what led you here. But… I do know about hiding things that hurt. I’ve got my own scars – maybe not the kind you can see,” he added, his smile faint but real, “but they’re there.”

The weight of his words settled around you, and you felt something shift – a wall you’d kept up out of habit, slowly lowering. You exhaled, feeling a bit of the tension release, as though you were finally in a space where you didn’t have to hide this part of yourself.

He leaned closer, his hand now holding yours firmly but gently, grounding you in the moment. "I'm here with you, okay? Whatever you’re going through, I want you to know it doesn’t make me see you any differently. You’re… important to me." The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, and it softened something deep within you.

“Thank you.” you said quietly, squeezing his hand back.

Aventurine tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “How about this – every time you feel like you’re slipping, like things get too much, you let me know? We can talk, or… not talk,” he said, a hint of his usual humor breaking through, “or we can find some ridiculous way to distract ourselves. I’ve got these mooncake cats I haven’t introduced you to yet.”

That earned a soft laugh from you, breaking the lingering tension in the room. He caught the sound, grinning as he pulled his phone out and showed you a photo of his silly, mooncake-shaped cats. He held it up with a playful smirk.

“These little guys reminds me every day not to take life too seriously. So, any time you need them, They're just a text away.” he added with a wink.

The lightheartedness lifted the weight from your heart, and you looked at Aventurine, grateful for his presence, his understanding, and his unspoken promise to be there, both in laughter and in the moments that were hard.

And as he pulled you into a gentle embrace, you felt it – the quiet assurance that, whatever scars you both carried, you didn’t have to bear them alone anymore.

[evolnoomym]

Birds of a Feather 🌙☀️

General Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist | Support me |

Summary: A peek into the future.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 0.8 k

Authors note: First of all Happy Birthday to my Wife @joelmillerisapunk and myself, I love you so much Sunshine (we are literally Scorpio twins) 🫶🏻 This was supposed to be something else, a whole multi-chapter Fic based around this couple (which I still plan on writing) but as you know my life kinda changed completely so I was busy with taking care of that instead. I hope y’all like this little gift I’ve prepared.

Warnings: no use of y/n, Female reader, Female OC, FFM, beautiful domestic vibes, getting married, implied age-gap, cock lol, throuple,

Shoutout to @saradika @strangergraphics and @steddiecameraroll-graphics 💛

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. You are always welcome to talk with me about my writing. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. 🫶🏻

If someone would’ve told you that your future is gonna look like this you would’ve never believed it. So full of love, happiness and joy, exactly what you deserve after all these painful years. You finally get to wake up and be happy about it. Free of the past that kept dragging you down into the abyss. Meeting Sunny changed everything, you spend hours day after day talking to her and never once getting tired of each other. Love at first sight. Within months the decision was made to leave everything behind, runaway and move in with her.

It may seem rushed to others, but not once since then did you regret leaving. Sunny and you quickly fell into a blissful domestic routine, waking up together in bed, making breakfast for each other, cleaning the house like maniacs together and let’s not forget about those countless trips to Costco while listening to music you both loved. Movie nights cuddled up on the couch, tending to the vegetable garden in the backyard and all the dates Sunny planned, showing off the beautiful hidden spots of her town.

Of course one day the topic of getting married came up and it wasn’t surprising that the both of you had similar dreams, tying the knot in Italy. A month after that conversation Sunny got down on one knee and popped the question, which of course you immediately said yes to. A couple weeks after she slipped that moon shaped diamond down your finger it was time to walk down the aisle. It was a small ceremony. One of the best days in your life, one you won’t ever forget. The day you married the love of your life.

A year has since passed and if someone, again, would’ve told you that it will get even better you would have not believed it.

Life was already pretty perfect, but then you met Joel Miller that fateful night, 6 months ago, at the local bar. Sunny and you had talked about sharing someone but the opportunity never came. Joel however was different from those other guys, his interest was not driven by perversion, no, he was genuine and respectful. A mature man who knows what it takes to make a gal happy. Broad shoulders, strong arms, the sweetest brown eyes and luscious brown locks streaked with grey.

In the beginning you felt like a traitor for feeling the way you did about Joel.

Sunny ever the Angel reassured you each time that you are not a bad person for loving more than one person, after all she loved him too.

Those doubts feel silly now as you stand in the kitchen of the house you three share. Glancing out of the big window above the countertop you can see Sunny in the garden outstretched on a big blanket. She’s soaking up the last rays of sunlight and the golden hues make her look so angelic. It’s November 10th, her birthday and yours too.

You quietly step out onto the porch, tiptoeing over to her, she seems to sense your presence and opens her eyes. “Hii Babygirl,” Sunny’s sweet voice greets you. As you sink down to your knees, she sits up on her knees and slides her arms around your waist. “What did you do inside?” Sunny asks after pressing her soft lips on yours. “I cleaned the kitchen,” you try to lean in for another kiss “Wait I already cleaned the kitchen this morning,” Sunny pulls back and tilts her head questioning “are you okay Baby?” She knows you so well. “Yeah I’m just nervous, do you think he has something planned for us?”

Sunny chuckles “I sure hope he does or else he won’t get his cock sucked tonight,” her boldness still makes you blush furiously “ awww Baby no need to get shy, it’s okay I know you love that cock.” She smirks and you can only nod bashful.

“Yes, but shouldn’t he do something to us?” You pout your lips and Sunny takes the opportunity to kiss you again. She strokes through your hair gently “He will definitely do something to us, but that gift you want probably the most has to wait for a little longer.”

“I know, maybe we can give him that for his birthday?” You suggest in a giddy tone.

“Would it really be a surprise if he’s actively involved in making that gift?” She retorts.

“No, but you know what I mean.”

“Yes I do, let’s talk about it with him okay sweet cheeks?” You nod.

Sunny’s attention is pulled to something behind you “Speaking of the devil,” Sunny smiles and points to something behind you.

When you whip around you see Joel with two huge bouquets in his arms, a big smile on his face and even after he’s worked a hard shift he still looks breathtakingly handsome. And when he opens his mouth to bless your ears with his deep Texas drawl you are immediately put at ease.

“There are my two pretty girls, now who’s ready for a Birthday Party?”

Friends: @beefrobeefcal @pedrospatch @penvisions @tightjeansjavi @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @strang3lov3 @guiltyasdave @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @iamasaddie @syd-djarin @msjarvis @mermaidgirl30 @noxturnalnymph @sizzlingcloudmentality @the-mandawhor1an @yorksgirl @sin-djarin @thundermartini @clawdee @almostfoxglove @ace-turned-confused @always-andromeda @sawymredfox @morallyinept @ovaryacted @toxicanonymity @luxurychristmaspudding @rivnedell @moonlitbirdie @zloshy @sixhours @merz-8 @punkshort @beardedjoel @sp00kymulderr @joelslegalwhre @baronessvonglitter @tonysopranosrobe @pedropeach @ozarkthedog @joelsdagger @whocaresstillthelouvre @littlemisspascal

©️ evolnoomym 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[noa-nightingale]

I love that Steven cares so much about other people and has the ability to make them feel seen and valued and appreciated. I hope today he too feels seen and valued and appreciated - he is a phenomenal human being, a spectacular creator and just an all around gem of a man.

I enjoy watching him in front of the camera and I am beyond grateful for his hard work behind the camera. Watcher just would not be the same without him (it would not even exist without him) and you can see his values and creativity and effort shine through in everything he is a part of.

Steven, you make the lives you touch better and lovelier and I hope your life is made better and lovelier in return.

Happy birthday, Steven Lim! <3

[rosquinn]

One of my Dorian Gray hot takes is that there was absolutely nothing in Dorian and Basil's relationship that was healthy. I keep seeing posts like "Basil's love for Dorian was so pure, that's why the portrait was so pretty and the real villain of the story is Wotton because he corrupted it"

As I see it, yes, Wotton did corrupt him, but saying Basil's feelings for Dorian were pure is simply inaccurate to the story. Basil says himself he merely sees Dorian as an artistic ideal [Dorian Gray is to me simply a motive in art. I find him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. That is all; ch1] and admitted he (a 10 year older man, who had power over him) tried to isolate him from other people and "keep him to himself". Furthermore, Basil also plays a big role in the way Dorian sees himself and his beauty, by painting him everyday and not maintaining any conversation with him, he's indirectly reaffirming what Wotton tells him: people only care about you because you're pretty and young. There is also this scene from the second chapter:

Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say.

The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his cheeksburning.

"Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself."

Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, "don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have suchanother. You are not jealous of material things, are you?-you who are finer than any of them!"

Dorian is even dealing with a suicidal ideation over what Wotton has told him and the way Basil sees him, he needs emotional validation, he's asking to be told there's more than him than that, and Basil's reaction is just─ no. You're prettier than any other object (indirectly comparing him to one, too).

Basil's view of Dorian influences how he sees people as much as Wotton's. For example, to Dorian Sybil was only what she pretended to be, he loved her performance, her acting, how she did exactly what the public wanted (which can apply to Dorian himself), not the real her. She was only an artistic ideal to him, she meant to him exactly what Dorian meant to Basil. He ignored her desires, pain and everything not related to what he wanted to see, since that's what he's been taught he must appreciate.

I also disagree with the interpretation of the portrait as a "pure" reflection of Basil's love (I would personally rather describe it as an obsession, though) and Dorians soul because it's not. At least not entirely. Part of the point of the book is that everyone only saw the part of Dorian they wanted: the portrait represents Basil's idolized version of him, what he wanted to see and how he refused to see Dorian as a person instead of an artistic ideal. That's why he tried to make him redeem himself, because he hated seeing his version of Dorian shatter into pieces. It was never Dorian entirely, not even after aging terribly because that's the result of Basil and Wotton's influence. The portrait was not his soul, it was a modified version of it other people played with because nobody cared about the whole thing, and the influence was so big those parts became his whole being. It was just an idolized, molded version at first but turned into his real self with the time and the sins. Dorian's soul (the portrait) was constructed upon what others appreciated about him, so when Wotton motivated him to sin, because Dorian's potential to be terrible was what mattered to him, it became ugly and terrible. There was absolutely nothing pure about that portrait since day 1.

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 13: SCOUSER’S RITE*

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | CH 12 | MASTERLIST | CH 14 [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: angst, fluff, mild smut, academy life, tough family dynamics, gossip, mentions of past toxic relationship, language wc: ~9k 💌: buckle up, it’s about to get real after this 🐦‍🔥

You barely had a minute to breathe over the past few weeks since coming back from London. Your brother’s Liverpool trial was scheduled for tomorrow and although he was doing his best to seem unbothered about it, you could feel the mixture of nerves, excitement, and how much tomorrow meant to him. While you were preparing dinner, your focus kept drifting to the other room where Trent was in full mentor mode with Ziggy seated across from him.

“Listen,” Trent started, sounding more like a coach than a current footballer. “Tomorrow they’re not just gonna watch you in your usual position. They’ll move you around..left, right, centre to test how quick you adapt. They want to see what you’re like outside of your comfort zone.”

Ziggy nodded, his gaze transfixed like he was storing every piece of advice in his brain. Trent leaned forward, dropping his voice like he was giving away his best kept secrets.

“You know they’re not just looking for skill, right? They want someone who can lead and keep their cool when thrown off. Body language is everything, mate. If something throws you off, you need to get back in the game and show them you’re ready for anything.”

Ziggy looked excited, but also nervous. “So..even if I get tossed all around the pitch..just be calm about it?”

Trent nodded, almost like he was reminiscing on past times. “Yeah..just look confident even if you’re not. Make it look like you were meant to be there no matter where they put you. You’ve got to prove you belong, it’s not just about playing well.”

“Dinner’s ready for my two favorite athletes,” you called out, stepping into the room and drying your hands on a dish towel. You caught the tail end of their conversation and noticed how your brother’s face lit up at every word Trent said, his wide eyes and dimples reminded you of when he was just five and just learning the ropes of football at the park. Meanwhile, Trent was relaxed and confident, very clearly enjoying taking on his mentor role.

They both looked over at you with grins, Trent’s gaze softened into something a little more domestic when he saw you. “What’s on the menu tonight?” he asked playfully but also curious. “You didn’t have to cook baby. I could’ve picked something up.”

“T..it’s fine. Tomorrow’s a big day. I made pasta bolognese and salad.”

The minute you mentioned pasta, both of them bolted to the table like they hadn’t eaten in forever. Trent made a plate for you first, adding everything before setting it down where you usually sat. “Ladies first,” he said thoughtfully, making you roll your eyes but you secretly appreciated the manners he had. 

“Thank you,” you replied with a grin as they wasted no time piling their own plates high.

Ziggy dug in immediately, taking a heaping forkful of pasta in his mouth and gave you an appreciative grin. “This is way better than Mum’s food” he said in a muffled tone, chewing a mouthful of food. He wasn’t lying about that; your mum’s cooking generally lacked the warmth and attention you put into yours, so it made you smile. Trent grabbed his fork and took a bite of pasta, looking over at you as if he knew exactly how good he looked right now. He took his time chewing, maintaining direct eye contact with you. You were absentmindedly twirling your food around on the fork, your eyes fixed on him until he raised his eyebrow and snapped you out of your daze.

“You alright, Y/N?” he asked, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it off as you straightened up in your seat to force yourself to stop staring at the gorgeous man in front of you. “Mhm. All good here,” you replied, shaking off the heat of the moment. You turned to your brother, who was still inhaling his food like it was his last meal on earth. “Sooo...why’d you turn down the trials with Man U and City? Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you were really set on going to –”

Ziggy cut you off, not looking up from his plate. “Didn’t feel right anymore.” he mumbled.

You eyed Trent suspiciously, wondering if he had anything to do with your brother’s change of heart. “And T..did you have anything to do with Z’s sudden allegiance to Liverpool?” Your brother was a born and bred scouser, but he wasn’t a hardcore fan of LFC; he just enjoyed a nice footie match, no matter which club was out there on the pitch. Trent paused before responding, casually taking another bite before giving you a nonchalant shrug. “Liverpool’s the best place if he wants to develop. I just gave him tips about academy life.” He avoided your direct gaze, almost like he wasn’t telling the full truth. “He made the right decision baby. It’s in his blood. It’s like a rite of passage.”

Ziggy nodded, agreeing with Trent immediately. “Yeah, Liverpool is home. Easy choice.”

You folded your arm as you eyed both Trent and Ziggy suspiciously. “So you had this epiphany all by yourself?”

“Yup. Been thinking about it for a while now,” Ziggy replied curtly, scraping his plate for the last bits of pasta sauce like a greedy teenager.

Both of their relaxed expressions gave nothing away, but your brother answered your question the same way he answered your dad’s questions the night your dad asked Ziggy about the scouts, which made you feel a pang of frustration. You couldn’t stand the idea of Trent pulling strings for Ziggy. The internet already thought you were only with Trent to establish your brother’s football dreams; you even scrolled through many comments hinting at it. You tried to not let it show, but it bothered you. The last thing you wanted was to find out Trent pushed Ziggy in Liverpool’s direction purposefully, even if it was out of love. You weren’t really down with the nepotism aspect of it, especially since your brother had real talent that he worked hard for over the last couple of years.

Trent caught the look on your face as if he was sensing your thoughts and gave you a smile. “It’s up to him Y/N. He wouldn’t have gotten the invite if they didn’t think he had it in him. They don’t just invite anybody to be a trialist.”

You let out a deep sigh, feeling some worries ease but the thoughts still were in the back of your mind. You weren’t going to let anyone, not even Trent, compromise your brother’s future, whether it was positive or not. Ziggy had to make this decision on his own.

The next morning, you and Trent took a drive with Ziggy over to Liverpool’s facility. The AXA Training Centre unfolded before you; it was a world class facility with modern architecture and immaculate fields that stretched across to the academy side. The centre was divided into sections with each space dedicated to different club needs: recovery zones, indoor pitches, classrooms, and high tech training rooms with brand new equipment. The academy area was a quick walk away from where the first team trained with Trent, and was separated by a well kept pathway lined with trees and banners that proudly displayed the club logo and the words ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ in bold lettering.

You and Trent walked hand in hand across the training centre grounds, taking in the scene around you as young kids dashed around the pitches, each of them in a miniaturized blur of red Liverpool kits, bright boots, and wide eyes. Ziggy walked ahead of you both, his eyes fixed on the green training pitches stretched out before him. You were trying to keep a supportive expression, but the scenes unfolding in front of your eyes chipped away at the confidence you had for your brother with every step.

The youngest group caught your eye first, they couldn’t have been any older than 6 or 7. They darted through a series of cones, trying to keep their balance while dribbling. Their coach, who looked like he could’ve played professionally a few years ago, called out to them in a tone that was both supportive and authoritative. “Nice, nice! Keep those feet moving lads! Eyes up!” he rang out. One of the boys stumbled and the ball slipped from his control as he tried to regain his footing. You watched as he paused, biting his lip as his face crumpled, barely managing to keep his tears at bay. The younger kids were meant to be having fun in this group, but it didn't seem like the little boy was having any of that. He was hard on himself, even such a young age. It reminded you of yourself, and how you were always trying to get your parents attention around that age.

As you walked past, an older kid in a different group fell to his knees after a mistimed tackle, clutching his leg and wincing. The coach looked over at him, figuring he was being a bit dramatic. “You’re alright Adam. Let’s try and walk it off.” The boy limped away, visibly struggling but determined to not show weakness in front of his teammates or the coach; a bad injury could mean getting released, no matter how big his dreams were. The raw resilience in such tiny bodies shook you; they couldn't have been older than tween years, yet they were pushing themselves to the core.

The next training pitch held a group of slightly older boys who were no older than 11 or 12, engaged in a passing drill that looked militaristic. The coach was pacing along the line watching with a hawk eye, barking corrections with no gentleness. “This isn’t a Sunday kickabout!” he shouted. “You want to play for Liverpool one day? Show me you deserve to be here!” You saw one boy go pale when he fumbled his pass, sending the ball skidding away. He looked like he wanted to cry but the coach’s gaze kept him moving. The intensity grew even more as you neared the fields where the younger teenagers were playing. Here, the drills looked like something more professional; the coaches didn’t really bother with the usual pickups and encouragement. One boy missed a shot on a goal and his teammate groaned loudly, throwing his arms in frustration as he yelled at him. The coach quickly intervened with a sharp warning. “Enough! You’re a team. Act like it. Let’s try again.”

You glanced at Trent, feeling the pressure put on these kids in ways you could have never imagined. “Trent...is this normal? I don’t like this. They’re literally babies.”

Trent squeezed your hand, his gaze fixed on the fields as he nodded. “Yeah, it is. They want to see how much they can take and still push through. Tough love is a part of it.” He gave you a reassuring smile and kissed your cheek, but you could tell he understood why you were uneasy. “It seems brutal but..that’s how they weed out who will make it and who won’t.”

When you made your way to the next pitch, a group of teenagers were sprinting in formation, their boots pounding against the training pitch as they went through their drills. The coach observed every movement, barking corrections like it was second nature. You noticed one boy fall behind, his breath labored and face drenched in sweat. He stumbled for a moment, looking like he was ready to stop. 

“C’mon, Kaiden! Keep pushing!” his coach rang out sharply, giving him enough reserve to grit his teeth and push forward to close the gap.

Ziggy turned to glance back at you and Trent, his wide eyes and dimpled cheeks looking for Trent’s approval. Trent gave him a nod as his own way of saying “You got this.”

When you finally arrived at the U18 training pitch, you could sense the tension ramping up around you. A handful of people waved at Trent to say hello, others were staring intently at the pitch, while another select few stood nearby chatting in a hushed tone. You heard a woman a few feet away mutter to her friend in a grating, irritated voice. “How is it fair that his girlfriend’s brother was offered a trial? He’s not a real trialist if Trent had anything to do with it. He’s going to take someone’s spot, no doubt. I bet he’s not even a proper footballer like my son.”

Her words hit you hard as you resisted the urge to confront her. You wanted to tell her she had no idea about the kind of pressure your brother was under, or that he’d been waiting for this moment since he started football. You wanted to tell her he was just a kid living out his dreams and that she was being an absolute bitch who needed to worry about her son’s spot on the team. But instead, you took a steady breath, knowing this wasn’t the right time to engage with a crazed football mum who thought her son was the best to ever grace Liverpool’s picturesque fields. You turned to Ziggy and gave him an encouraging smile. “Just do your best, yeah? Go out there and have fun. Don’t worry about the rest.”

Trent stepped forward, pulling Ziggy in for a quick hug. “Remember what we talked about, mate. Head up, play smart, be confident. Be ready for any position even if it’s the first time.” Ziggy nodded and then they launched into their ridiculous handshake, but this time it made you smile instead of rolling your eyes. The bond they had was uniquely theirs, and absolutely adorable. As Ziggy jogged onto the pitch, you took a deep breath, hoping he could rise to the challenge ahead of him. 

The trial began with Ziggy being tossed straight into action after warm ups. He wasn’t playing in his usual spot. One moment he was on the left, then in midfield, and a few rotations later he was positioned somewhere completely different. Your brother was great at being versatile, but you could tell he was somewhat rattled by all the moving around. You saw him hesitate each time they moved him, nervous as he adjusted to the changes. It didn’t take him long to fall into the rhythm eventually; he was a determined boy, much like how your boyfriend was at 15.

You shifted, feeling nerves settle in your stomach. “It feels like they’re doing everything they can to trip him up. Isn’t that a bit harsh for someone his age?”

Trent leaned in close with an observant voice. “Nah, it’s part of the trial. They’ll do whatever it takes to see if he’s got the talent to handle different roles and how he manages when stretched thin.” He gave a nod of approval as Ziggy smoothly transitioned to the next position. You watched intently, noticing small details of every move he made – his first touches, the way he tracked the ball even in uncomfortable positions, and how quickly he tried to recover when something didn’t go as planned. You kind of felt like your parents in that moment, which gave you the ick. Your brother didn’t have to be perfect under any other terms, but right now it felt like he did.

Trent assessed your brother with a gaze you rarely ever saw. “His first touch is class,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But he’s gotta be quicker on that turn.” It was clear Trent knew this drill setup by heart as he watched with the knowledge of someone who did it thousands of times. Each time Ziggy did something right, Trent would give a small nod of approval to reassure you.

“Baby..he’s doing well,” he said quietly to you, sensing your nerves. “They’re looking at the full picture though. His skill, reaction time, body language. They wanna see how he bounces back.” Trent took a pause, and then laughed to himself. “Lad’s doing way better than me when I first started. I’d mess up, get frustrated, and just boot the ball as far as I could out of pure anger. Thought it would teach ‘em a lesson.” 

You looked up at him with your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Nooo. You?? The cool, calm, and collected Trent Alexander-Arnold?”

Trent laughed, nodding his head. “I’d sulk, kick it across the pitch, only to have to fetch the ball every single time. Sometimes I got so mad I’d cry while walking back to get it. Proper humbling experience.” He grinned at the memory, but you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. “After a while..I just learned to get used to it. Took every bit of feedback, even the harshest stuff..and I figured out how to be better. That’s why it doesn’t matter what people say now. I’ve already heard it all.”

As Trent spoke, the weight of his journey started to sink in. You loved him for who he was outside of football, but seeing this world from his eyes made you love him even more. He pushed through the academy with intensity, constant judgement, and the endless push to be better to make it to where he was today. You leaned against his shoulder, taking in every word as he spoke. He didn’t just have talent, he was resilient in the same way that smoke carries the original spark of a fire. He fought for his spot on the pitch..and it was admirable. Trent felt your head against his shoulder and wrapped an arm around you, giving you a light squeeze as you both continued to watch Ziggy push himself across the pitch.

Beside you, a few parents were huddled together with their eyes darting between their kids and the coaches, talking anxiously. One mother with a heavy scouse accent had her arms crossed tightly, leaning in to one parent while glancing skeptically at Ziggy. “I don’t get it. If he’s from grassroots and is that good..why hasn’t he been scouted before now?” She had a tight smile but there was strain behind it, as if something serious was on the line.

The other parent was a father who had worry etched on his face. “He’s fast, that’s for sure. My son’s been struggling a bit since his injury. He hasn’t been up to his usual..but I didn’t know they were bringing in this kid. Feels a bit unfair to be honest. Especially for the ones putting in work week after week.” The mother nodded, casting another wary look toward Ziggy. “It’s hard enough for them as it is. If someone’s losing their spot, I’d rather it not be my son.”

You felt Trent’s grip tighten around you, sensing the tension in the air. He leaned down, murmuring softly to you. “Ignore it, Y/N. Ziggy’s got every right to be here. He’s earning it just like anyone else on the pitch right now.”

Your attention was quickly drawn back to the field as the trial progressed and Trent’s arm slipped down to intertwine his fingers with yours. The coaches split the players into groups and positioned them for a series of drills that mimicked real match scenarios. Ziggy was placed in a defensive position, right up against another player who looked ready to eat anyone alive who stood in his way. Your brother moved with a focus that was rare for someone his age, darting in and out of multiple defensive positions with his eyes locked on the ball and the opposing players. The coaches observed in silence, arms crossed, only breaking their stone cold stances to jot down notes or give quick unreadable glances to each other. 

You found yourself squeezing Trent’s hand a little harder than necessary, each step your brother took out there made your chest tighten. Trent noticed and gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin. “Baby, you’re squeezing the fuck out of my hand right now,” he uttered with a strained smile, his eyes never leaving the pitch. “Relax.”

“Sorry” you mumbled, loosening your grip but still feeling your anxiety build up with every second.

Ziggy’s speed was impressive and you could see the tremendous amount of effort he was putting in. His passes were clean, his footwork on point. But as the coaches began shifting him into more unfamiliar scenarios, you could see him start to falter. At one point they had him shifted to a right back position. He hesitated just a split second during a tackle, misreading his opponent’s body language, which was just enough time for the forward to slip by him, taking full advantage of Ziggy’s pause to drill the ball past him and into the net.

The parents around you murmured under their breaths, voices barely kept to whispers but somehow loud enough to cut through a crowd. “Not much of a defender is he?” one of them muttered, the judgement heavy in his voice. “Quick, for sure.. but he’s got no defensive instincts. He looks lost out there.”

Another parent scoffed. “Can’t just rely on speed, not at this level. That’s not going to fly if he wants to be in the academy.” 

You clenched your jaw trying to shake off their words, but they had a sting that was hard to ignore. Was that what the coaches were thinking too? Were they just mentally crossing Ziggy off the list every time he messed something up? Every time he showed any trace of vulnerability?

Trent seemed unfazed and kept his gaze on the players. He leaned down to murmur softly into your ear, “Y/N, he’s got this. It’s one mistake. They’re not here looking for perfection; they’re looking for potential. They want to see how he handles setbacks.”

“But what if they’re just looking for reasons to say no?” you whispered back, the nerves evident in your tone. It felt like your brother was being measured and weighed with each passing second with no room for error and you hated that. “Ugh. It just feels...rigged.”

Trent shook his head with a soft chuckle, still watching Ziggy. “Nah, it’s not rigged. They do this to everyone.” He nodded toward the field with an expression full of pride. “He’s a top prospect baby. Practically guaranteed a two year deal here for sure.”

You turned to him, pulling away from his grip as you eyed him suspiciously, squinting your eyes. “And… how do you know that exactly?” The edge in your voice caught Trent slightly off guard and you knew he could sense the accusation in your tone, but you couldn’t help it. You heard the earlier whispers about how Ziggy’s trial had come to fruition from the other parents and it was getting to you more than you wanted to admit. The last thing you wanted was for people to think Ziggy’s chance had been handed to him on a silver platter because of you and Trent – moreso the latter. 

Trent raised an eyebrow, bewildered by the full weight of your question. “Are you asking if I pulled any strings?” he replied in a calm voice. “You really think I’d risk that?”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “T..people are already talking. I just don’t want him to get caught up in what people are saying.” You glanced back at Ziggy on the pitch, watching as he regained his composure, his body language screaming determination despite his initial setback. “I don’t want people thinking he didn’t earn this. T…if I find out you’re lying to me, I swear I’ll never forgive you.”

Trent’s expression shifted slightly, almost as if he was unsure before he masked it with a casual shrug. “Nah..it’s not like that” he said in a soft voice. “He’s here because he’s had eyes on him already. The academy director has been watching him since last year. This isn’t about me..he’s the kind of player they won’t pass up on.” He paused like he wanted to pull you back into him, but he stopped halfway as his fingers curled back toward his side instead. “They love him on the pitch.”

You weren’t fully convinced, so you pushed more. “So you only gave him advice? You didn’t steer him away from the clubs in Manchester? Or anywhere else?”

Trent glanced away for a split second, thinking about the advice he gave your brother back in St. Moritz. “Uh..I might’ve told him what I thought, but he asked.” he admitted, but he chose his words very carefully. “That’s it though. I didn’t make the decision for him. He made the choice on his own.”

You let out a slow breath, nodding in understanding, but you still felt an uncomfortable twist in your gut. Trent didn’t give you the clear, reassuring answer you were hoping for, but you let it slide for now. “Alright…” you said finally, keeping a steady voice. “But if they bring him on..you can’t make any shortcuts for him.” Your warning was clear, and you knew your boyfriend picked up on it too.

Trent smiled as he took in your no nonsense expression, “I don’t doubt you..you sound scarier than the coaches right now.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully. “I’m serious, T. I don’t want him to end up on the team just because he’s your little protégé. That’ll follow him around the entire time and he deserves better. No offense..you’re great but that’s my brother. Just let him make his own way okay?” Trent chuckled, finally deciding to pull you into him again. “Noted. Wouldn’t dare mess with your grand plan baby” he teased, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

A few hours after the trial ended, you were a few paces ahead of Trent and Ziggy as the three of you headed back toward the car. Now that the trial was finally over for the day, you could unclench and relax a little. You weren’t planning on watching any of those trials ever again, it was more stressful than watching Trent at Anfield.

Trent’s voice carried behind you as he draped an arm over your brother’s shoulder, slowing his pace to talk to him. “Mate..you did great! Solid work out there. You kept your head up, stayed calm. That’s half the battle in a trial like that. Just keep at it.” Ziggy smiled, still catching his breath like the adrenaline hadn’t worn off for him just yet. “Thanks man. It’s easier said than done for sure. I nearly lost it when that lad slipped past me.”

Trent’s lips curved into an amused smirk, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “Everyone has a moment like that, trust. It used to eat at me..but it’s all in the recovery. Next time, don’t even blink. Just get back in there like you never missed.”

Ziggy’s grin grew as he nodded with a newfound confidence, taking in Trent’s advice. “Right. Like it’s nothing.” he repeated, absorbing the advice and taking it to heart.

You glanced back, catching the look of admiration in your brother’s eyes. Whatever Trent was telling him was lifting him up, and it was heartwarming to see the natural bond and trust between them..even if Ziggy was infiltrating the time you spent with your man. As you reached the car and entered the passenger’s seat, Trent slowed his pace and lowered his voice as he leaned closer to Ziggy.

“Hey...there’s something I want to show you.” Trent pulled out his phone and swiped to the photo of the ring you sent him from London. “She sent me this in a text a while back. Called the place up and bought it the same day before she was even fully out of the store.”

Ziggy’s eyes widened with his mouth falling open in surprise. “Damn, you’re serious, huh? You’re going to ask her to marry you?”

Trent nodded, glancing over at you casually reapplying your lip gloss, completely unaware of the conversation happening just outside of the car. “Ezzie said Y/N wants to wait at least a year..but yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Figured I’d better start planning. What do you think?”

Ziggy hesitated for a minute, his grin fading as he thought about how much he should share. “Uh, I think she’d love the idea eventually. But if you asked right now..she honestly might say no.” he admitted, lowering his voice. “Not that she doesn’t love you or anything..it’s just complicated. Our parents..they..uh.. messed up the idea of marriage for her I think.”

Trent’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean they messed it up? Complicated how?”

Ziggy scratched the back of his neck, struggling to find the words to explain your family dynamic to Trent. “Y/N was born before Mum and Dad were married. They weren’t too thrilled they had her from what I heard. My dad only married my mum to keep things looking proper. They tried for a boy for years but ended up with Ezzie and me.”

Trent’s expression grew more serious as he took in what your brother was sharing. It wasn’t something you mentioned before, but he was starting to understand why.

“Mum always wanted a son and Dad too..I think. I can get away with a lot more than my sisters. They’ve always been harder on Ezzie and Y/N..to make them fit some mold or whatever. That’s why Y/N is so independent I guess..” Ziggy explained, pausing before adding more.

“Mum especially. She’s...I don’t know..she always wanted Y/N to be picture perfect but then criticized her for doing her own thing after finding something she was good at. She opened her perfume store by herself and instead of being proud..Mum kept telling her not to bother with it and to find a guy to take care of her. She kept saying that until money started flowing at Love Notes.”

Trent gritted his teeth, recalling the ex you mentioned before who nearly made you give up on everything. “Her ex...that’s why she got with him?” he muttered, his curious frustration evident.

Ziggy shook his head, his eyes darkening with anger as he remembered your previous relationship. “Nah. She met him at some stupid auction Mum dragged her to.” He paused, kicking a rock on the ground as his anger built. “Aaron – some posh prick with too much time and money on his hands. Thought he could talk down on her cause he had a fat wallet.” Ziggy’s fists clenched as he spoke, the memory being enough to fire him up. “If I wasn’t just 13 at the time I’d have kicked that goofy looking motherfucker’s face in. I’m pissed just thinking about it again.” Ziggy’s voice came out a little rougher this time, edged in protection. “If I ever see him again.. he’ll get what's coming for sure.”

Trent let out a low whistle as Ziggy’s words sunk in. “I’m with you mate” he said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked toward the car where you were waiting – now knowing the strength you were carrying under the calm exterior you tried to keep up daily. “But don’t waste your energy on that asshole. She’s got us now.” Ziggy relaxed, loosening his fists as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah..you’re right. She deserves more than what she’s been dealt. Wouldn’t mind it at all if you married her. Maybe do it at Anfield?”

Trent smiled as the conversation took on a lighter turn. “Bro..she’d throw the ring back at me and tell me to go get my head checked if I tried that with her. She’s not too keen on all the attention.”

Ziggy burst out laughing, nodding in agreement. “Yeah...you’re probably right.”

“It’s gotta be something more special than that.” Trent paused, taking in Ziggy’s final approval. “Glad I got a yes from you. I thought you’d be a little tougher to crack but I appreciate it..I’ll take care of her.” 

When they entered the car, Trent’s hand instinctively met with your thigh and you placed your hand on top of his, lightly rubbing his skin with your thumb. “Everything good? Took both of you forever to get to the car...”

Trent gave your thigh a light squeeze and flashed you an innocent smile. “All good.” he replied, though his answer was shorter than usual and you could tell they were talking about something they didn’t want you to know about.

You squinted your eyes playfully, glancing between your boyfriend and Ziggy – who was in the backseat. “Okay..what were you two yapping about? Having another secret chat?”

Ziggy’s eyes went wide for a split second, nearly blurting out the word ‘marriage’, but he quickly recovered. “Ma – uh..match day rituals! Yeah...we were talking about match day rituals.”

Trent nodded, leaning into the excuse with ease, “Yeah..everyone’s got their own thing they do.”

“Oh really?? Match day rituals?” you asked, skeptical but amused. “Let’s hear it then, yeah? What’s the ritual? I’m curious now..”

Ziggy jumped in first, eager to explain. “Before every match..I gotta drink exactly three long sips of Red Bull. No more, no less. Anything else will throw me off. Don’t ask why..it just works.”

Trent snorted, giving him an amused look. “Three sips of Red Bull? You trying to take my deals mate?”

You side eyed Trent, muttering under your breath. “Maybe if you and your brother took it seriously....” You knew he didn’t catch on to what you said, so you looked at him again, raising your eyebrow. “And what about you, T? What’s your pre-match secret?”

Trent leaned back in the seat, looking dead serious as he launched into the most ridiculous ritual ever. “50 push ups and an odd number of pull ups. Then I down a water and jog up and down the tunnel before I can touch the pitch.”

You burst out laughing at his absurdity, trying to imagine him doing all of this. “You’re so bad at lying Trent. Seriously...what do you do?”

Trent smiled sheepishly, slightly embarrassed of what he was about to admit to in front of Ziggy. “Uh..lately I’ve been checking to see if you’re wearing your necklace before I go. Makes me feel lucky.”

Your laughter faded and you looked at him in surprise. “Wait..really? You think me wearing this actually gives you luck?” You fiddled with the dainty charm resting against your collarbone, still a little in awe. “What did you do before then?”

Trent shrugged, smiling as he avoided Ziggy’s teasing gaze in the back. “If you want to call it luck..then yeah. Maybe it’s superstitious but I just feel better knowing you have it on. Feels like you’re there with me even if you’re not at the match, y’know? I didn’t do much before..just focused with some music.”

Ziggy snickered, muttering something about how you and Trent were very dramatically intense, but there was warmth in his eyes too, as if he was seeing what real love looked like for the first time in his nearly 16 years of life. The way you two acted around each other disgusted your brother at times, but the love radiated off of both of you in ways that couldn’t be ignored. 

Trent took a quick glance at you with warm eyes as he drove. “Thinking about you when I’m out there helps me keep my mind clear.”

“Awww, oh my god. T that’s so sweet! I love y–”

Ziggy groaned, breaking the moment in teenage fashion. “ENOUGH! Take me home..PLEASE!”

You laughed, shaking your head at your brother’s antics. The streets around Les Notes d’Amour came into view and you sat up slightly. “Actually...can we make a quick stop before we take him back home? I just want to drop in for a few minutes.” In reality, you needed to go fetch the watch you were hiding back at the store. You hadn’t given it to Trent yet because you were deciding on whether you wanted to give it to him for one of your anniversaries: the day you met on the train – which was coming up, or the day the two of you became official a few months later. 

A couple of minutes later you, Trent, and Ziggy neared the Les Notes d’Amour storefront as the faint scent of Rêveur enveloped around you. Tara and Ember were near the counter, organizing the last of the Rêveur orders. Their heads were close together with their voices low, but just audible enough for someone nearby to catch snippets of the conversation. “I swear she’s been out the shop more than she’s been in lately” Tara whispered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot. “Makes you wonder doesn’t it?”

Ember shrugged as she carefully placed a bottle into its packaging. “Could be all the scents making her sick or something. I heard pregnant people have super sensitive noses like bloodhounds…or maybe she’s just really busy?” Tara leaned in, lowering her voice more. “You think they’ll announce it any time soon..or just keep it quiet?” Ember smirked knowingly. “No way they’re announcing it any time soon..she has enough going on as it is. I imagine they won’t announce anything until–”

“Hi ladies!” you called out, stepping forward with a smile and unknowingly cutting off their whispery gossip session. Tara and Ember jumped, caught off guard and quickly fumbled around the counter to make it look like they were busy with work.

“Oh! Hiiiii Y/N!” Tara replied a little too enthusiastically. “Just packing up the last few Rêveur orders!”

You glanced over at the neatly packed boxes, sighing in relief. “Thank god. It’s so nice to be done with it, right?”

Ember hesitated and drummed her fingers against the freshly sealed tape on the box. “Um..actually,” She looked up at you reluctantly but eager to share. “I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to check emails yet..but people are still all for it. They keep asking if you’ll make it a permanent product.”

You groaned inwardly. “Oh great...because nothing is ever simple for me” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “If I don’t make it permanent, I’ll be haunted by requests for the ‘Trent Scent’ forever.” You let out a dramatic sigh, eyeing Trent and Ziggy who were toward the front of the store, playfully jabbing at each other while laughing and dodging like they were in a boxing match. “I thought we were finally free,” you added, shaking your head as Trent threw an exaggerated left hook, making Ziggy duck, nearly knocking a shelf over. 

Tara stifled her laughter, trying to remain professional while you were nearby. “We could always just...embrace the legacy. If you're up for it, that is” She eyed your stomach, which made you look down to check if you had something on your outfit, but you didn’t see anything.

“Maybe I am..” you paused, thinking thoughtfully. “If I teach you how to make some batches.. it might be worth it.”

Ember chimed in, clasping her hands together. “Honestly I think we could handle it! It sounds fun!”

You gave an appreciative nod, but you were cautious with the idea at the same time. “We’ll have to take it really slow” you said, eyeing both of them carefully. “I’ll admit.. it was my mistake for making you two set up the orders for Rêveur on your first day..but we have to be on the same page for something like this.”

Both girls nodded eagerly, too happy with your answer as they returned to finishing up packing the last orders. After breaking Trent away from his fake boxing match with your brother, you headed to the back room with him. Trent’s hands wrapped around your body as the both of you walked to the room. He leaned into your neck, placing a nibbling kiss on the skin just above your collarbone.

“Trent stoppp” you giggled, drawing out the word as you lightly pushed him away. “Patience is a virtue baby.”

He grinned as he closed the door behind you, unbothered. He saw you reach down for a bag on the other side of the room, your ass in his full view. He bit down on his bottom lip as he walked over to you, gripping a handful of your ass which made you jump up, dropping the gift bag that contained the watch as you turned to him. Your hands rested against the table behind you while his lips inched closer to yours, stopping just before reaching your lips. “I didn’t get a good morning kiss when we woke up today…” his lips traced the outline of your jaw against the air, making you feel woozy with want. “Didn’t get a good morning cuddle in either,” he breathed against your skin. “Can’t blame me for being a little impatient.” 

You smirked at him, feeling your pulse quicken as you lightly ran your nails up his bare and muscled arm, reaching the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss so that you could push the gift bag out of view with your foot. “Mmm, I’m sorry..” 

Trent gripped your waist, placing you on top of the table. Your mouth parted slightly. The warmth of his tongue against yours made you arch up against him. Your hands traveled down to his shorts, pulling them down to massage the bulge tenting tightly against his briefs. You pulled away from the kiss, biting your lip as you searched his expression teasingly. “No good morning sex either, huh?” You pulled down his briefs, stroking his hard length slowly and deliberately. “Gonna have to make that up to you..” 

“Y/N…” Trent sucked in his breath, letting out a low groan as you stroked him faster, massaging his balls with your other hand. You could tell it was taking everything in him not to flip you over and fuck you against the table, so you tightened your grip but slowed down a little to tease him. 

“You always fuck me so good baby,” you whispered seductively, grazing your hand over the tip which made him thrust into your hand. 

“Oh shit.. keep talking baby. Keep stroking it like that,” Trent muttered through gritted teeth, sucking in another breath.

You smiled, reaching up to playfully bite his bottom lip, pulling it with your teeth as you increased the pace on his shaft. “I want you to make me cum on your dick when we get home.” Trent tilted his head back, groaning as his cock started to twitch against your hand. “And I wanna ride you while you sit back and watch..”

“I’m about to c–” Trent started, but you immediately stopped stroking him, speaking against his lips in a low, sultry tone. “No, not yet. Save it for me.” 

Trent let out a ragged, frustrated breath as he stared at you with fire in his eyes. You were honestly only trying to distract him from seeing the watch you bought, but the stunt you just pulled was going to have you paying for it later, probably in the form of multiple back to back orgasms in different areas of the house. “You know exactly what you’re doing..” he murmured, biting his lip as he looked you in your eyes, pulling you in for another deep kiss.

Meanwhile back at the front, Ziggy voluntarily started breaking down the boxes scattered across the floor, clearing the area with the box cutter in hand. As he worked, he noticed a phone left unattended on a nearby shelf. The screen lit up with messages from a footie group chat labeled ‘Spill FC’. Being the nosy teenager that your brother was, he glanced over to look at the screen. The phone was still unlocked so he grabbed it, his curiosity getting the better of him as he scrolled through to see the latest messages and chat history.

Ziggy’s muscles tensed and his grip tightened on the phone as he continued to read with a clenched jaw. His blood was boiling and pulsed through him like a drum, each new message cranking up his frustration and spreading it like wildfire through his veins:

-

Nosy Girlie 1: no they’re cute together but getting pregnant in the first year is mad. they’re moving fast as fuck

Nosy Girlie 2: frfr. feels like they’re rushing it. like..good for her but we all know trent isn’t locking it down with anyone yet. you can slow down girl 😭 

Nosy Girlie 3: calling it now he’ll be on to someone new by next season. i bet £10

Tara: umm i don’t think they’ll split that soon. he’ll probably go for the family man PR angle first when they have the baby 

Nosy Girlie 2: ooh yeah you’re right! i bet their baby will be sooo cute though 🥺

Nosy Girlie 3: icl Y/N’s kinda iconic for inventing this new era of him and tying herself to it so she can stay relevant after they break up..smart move tbh

Tara: i’m pretty sure she’s set her fam up too. her sister just signed with miu miu at 15 and her brother had a trial with liverpool today 🙃

Nosy Girlie 2: ohhh wow. perks of dating a footballer i guess 😂

Nosy Girlie 1: he defo set that trial up there’s no way he didn’t. she knows she’s not getting a ring from him so she’s doing a speed run hahaha

Nosy Girlie 2: lmao that’s so fucked up but same girl same

-

Ziggy’s face twisted in anger as he scanned each message. He couldn’t believe the nerve of whoever these people were in the group chat. The gossip was bad enough but seeing his family dragged through the mud for a simple association pissed him off. The assumption about you, Ezzie’s contract, and the implication that he didn’t deserve his own trial irritated him to the max, making him see red. The comment about you doing a ‘speed run’ was his last straw; he couldn’t be bothered to read anymore of it. He marched toward Ember and Tara with his hands gripping the phone like he wanted to crush it. Ziggy stopped right in front of them, holding the phone up high. “Aye! Whose phone is this?” he demanded in a loud voice.

Ember and Tara looked up, shifting their faces from surprised to confused. “Uh..mine” Tara admitted, looking at the phone in his hand. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the screen opened to some very damning evidence. She tried to reach for it, but Ziggy snatched it back.

“You think this is funny, yeah?” he spat, waving the phone around in front of her. “All this shit you’re saying about my family. You think it’s just a laugh with your friends?” His voice was getting louder but you were too enmeshed in a makeout session with Trent in the backroom to notice the commotion up front. “How bout you keep our names out your fucking mouths? Especially my sisters.”

Ember was standing next to Tara and raised her eyebrows, amused by his outburst but not threatened in the slightest due to his severe case of baby face. “Calm down. It’s just talk..no harm done.”

Ziggy’s eyes narrowed as he turned toward Ember next. “This isn’t just talk. They said I only got a shot at Liverpool because of Trent and I fucking earned that trial. Then they said Y/N’s only with him to ‘tie herself to him’ or whatever rubbish they’re on about.” He jabbed his finger at Tara. “And you’re right there joining in and egging it on. If it’s just talk, why don’t you say it to my sister’s face then? Be bold out loud, yeah?”

Tara’s face flushed with her eyes darting nervously between her phone and Ziggy’s death glare. “I– I didn’t mean anything by it! It’s not what it looks like.” Her voice see-sawed unsteadily and she looked like she was about to cry. “I can’t lose this job, okay? My mum will kill me. Can you just..”

Ziggy scoffed and shook his head. “You’re just saying that because you got caught. Next time don’t leave your phone open for people to see it, dummy.” He threw the phone down on the counter, the chat still in open view. “You’d rather talk and leak stuff behind Y/N’s back thinking it’s funny.”

“Oh for fucks sake.. just calm it.” Ember interjected, rolling her eyes. “You’re making a fuss out of nothing. It’s not that serious. Everybody gossips.”

Ziggy contorted his face in disgust. “They’re betting on them breaking up. That’s my fucking sister they’re chatting that shit about.” He looked directly at Tara, who seemed to shrink more and more. “And you’re the worst one. Maybe if you spent more time working and less time talking shit she’d give you a raise and you wouldn’t have to beg me not to tell.”

Tara sighed, feeling defeated. “It was just...fun I guess. I’m really sorry. I won’t say anything else, I swear. Just..please don’t tell her.” Tara was basically saying anything to save her job at this point. She knew she probably wouldn’t stop gossiping, if anything she’d be more careful about the info she leaked to the chat, but right now she needed to make sure she didn’t lose her source of income. 

“You’re a fucking leech.” Ziggy muttered at Tara as he stormed toward the back room.

Back in the quiet back room, you and Trent were tangled up in each other still. You could taste a hint of mint from the gum he was chewing earlier which was cooly refreshing and slightly sweet. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss as you trailed your hands under his shirt. Trent broke away from the kiss slowly with his lips hovering closely to yours. He trailed his fingers along your waist, thinking thoughtfully. “Season’s wrapping up soon.. think we need to get away for a week or two.”

You hummed in agreement, sneaking in a quick kiss because you already missed the feeling of his lips on yours. In your head you were already imagining the two of you on a beach, far away from the demands of Les Notes d’Amour and the prem – nestled somewhere with turquoise blue water and warm sand beneath your toes. “Mm..yeah. Definitely need that. But where?”

“Uhh.. what about Bali?” Trent suggested, tracing the outline of your lips with his eyes. In his mind he was thinking about how he wanted to get you home..and quickly. This morning was busy with getting Ziggy ready for trial, but all he really wanted to do was spend some quality time with you – alone. 

You wrinkled your nose, trying not to laugh at his Bali suggestion. “Well..Bali is a vibe for sure. But we’d probably spend the entire holiday with a case of Bali Belly..no thanks.” You thought for a second, thinking of various destinations. “What about Miami? I could go for some guinep and sugar cane by the water. Their clubs are nice too! We could go to LIV or E11EVEN..maybe get a yacht and take it to Bimini?”

Trent shook his head, not thrilled by that idea. “Jude goes there all the time. It’s too chaotic. Nothing good ever happens in Florida. Plus the Caribbean has better fruit and less OnlyFans models.”

“And why do you know that Miami has a lot of OnlyFans models?” you pulled back, crossing your arms.

Trent playfully pretended to be annoyed at your indication. “Nah, nah. Don’t even start with that shit. Not my type at all.”

“Mhmm, good answer. So Miami is off the table. Any better ideas?”

Trent laughed and pulled you back into his arms. “Could go a bit closer, y’know? You ever been to SoHo Farmhouse?”

You rolled your eyes, knocking him in the head softly. “Absolutely fucking not. I’m from Liverpool. If I wanted to pretend to be farm chic we could just go pop a tent in Sefton Park near Palm House and call it a day. That’s not even a real holiday! Don’t piss me off Trent.”

Trent tilted his head back, laughing again at your dramatics. “Ah fine..okay. No farms for you. Beach it is then?”

Before you could converse with Trent any further, Ziggy swung the door open, looking at both of you in disgust. You could see by the look on his face that he was irritated by something else other than you and Trent showing off how sickeningly in love you were with each other. “I’m ready to go home,” he muttered with a scowl. “Your assistants are fucking nosy Y/N.”

You and Trent exchanged curious glances, noticing how intense Ziggy was being. “What happened?” you asked in a concerned tone. 

Ziggy shook his head, kissing his teeth. “Nothing. They just keep running their mouths about shit they don’t know about. Can we just go?” He would’ve told you the full truth of what they were really talking about in the group chat, but he was still protecting you in a way.

Trent squeezed your waist and gave you another kiss. “I’ll see what’s going on. Don’t stress about it.”

You nodded, hopping off the table as Trent and Ziggy made their way out of the room and back to the car. You grabbed Trent’s gift from under the table, placing it in your bag as you began to walk toward the front of the store. Ember was helping a customer who had just walked in, while Tara was off to the side, fumbling nervously with a Rêveur order.

Your brother’s words swirled around in your mind as you put two and two together.

“Your assistants are fucking nosy.”

“They just keep running their mouths about shit they don’t know about.”

They couldn’t be the ones running to SpillTheBeans, right? 

But if it wasn’t you, Trent, Camille, or any of your other friends..it had to be them. They were the only other two besides your siblings that would have access to the intimate details of your life.

Oh god.. I should’ve listened to Camille.

She wasn’t wrong. You really should have made them sign an NDA.

It was a little too late for that now, though.

so thankful to each of you stuck with me through this series so far! love you 🫶🏽 thoughts/feedback

[narcissosbythepool]

PriceGaz Pining Series

Part 5/14

Prev | Next

Prompt: Autumn //

The leaves have changed colour. It's like the park's trees are aflame with autumn. The air is chilly as he walks to the hospital, not quite cold enough to evaporate into mist as he breathes, but enough to pinch his cheeks and the tips of his fingers.

Gaz has been in the hospital for a couple days now. Price hasn't had the time to visit him until now, sorting out the aftermath of the mission. Everything that could possibly gone wrong went wrong, and Gaz got a bullet to his guts for his trouble. It took a lot of digging to find out who exactly fucked up and where, and how to fix what they had messed up. He and Soap are about to head out again in a couple days to tie up the loose ends, Ghost still busy with his own solo mission.

Price feels... guilty. For not visiting sooner, for leaving again so soon. For letting Gaz get hurt in the first place. That this happened on his watch.

He's fixing one of those mistakes now. He lets his gaze wander to the cool autumn sky as he nears the hospital. Its deep blue calms something restless in his chest. He's been waiting to see Gaz again. See him patched up, finally erase the vision of him as he took him to med-evac; bleeding profusely and his brows pinched in pain as he tried to keep a brave face. He was shaking all over but just grit his teeth and didn't let himself cry out in pain when Price carried him to safety.

He buys flowers at the hospital's flowershop. He browses the selection helplessly for a moment, wondering what the hell he's doing. Is it even appropriate for him to bring flowers? Would it be strange? But he pushes through the embarrassment – he's just being polite. People bring flowers to patients all the time.

His eyes land on a bouquet of deep blue flowers. His mind goes to the blue autumn sky. Has Gaz been able to enjoy the view? Maybe he would appreciate the reminder of the outside world. Besides, he likes blue, right?

Without thinking about it too much, he gets the blue flowers.

He weaves his way through the hospital, asking the front desk for Gaz's whereabouts, and then saunters to Gaz's room with the flowers squeezed in his sweaty hand.

He doesn't let himself hesitate at the door. He steps in with a knock and there he is – Gaz sitting in a hospital bed. His hospital gown is blue. It almost makes Price smile.

Gaz looks up from his phone and grins.

"Captain," he greets him and something warm spills over in Price's chest.

"Gaz," he says, walking up to him, stopping at the end of his bed. "Looking better, I see."

"I didn't expect to see you," Gaz says. It stings a bit, but Price guesses he deserves it.

"What kind of captain would I be if I didn't check up on my Sergeant?" he replies. Gaz's eyes soften a little. It makes his chest flutter.

"A shit one, I guess."

Price has to laugh at the flippant reply.

He hears rustling from behind him – he glances behind him, and sure enough, Gaz's roommate looks sheepish at being caught watching them.

"Don't mind me," the strange man says and takes out his phone. Price nods at him, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He turns back to Gaz whose eyes are already on him.

"Those for me?" he nods at the flowers and Price can feel his cheeks heat up.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "It's polite, isn't it?"

"Courtesy flowers," Gaz replies cheekily. "I'm touched, Boss."

"I can always take these home with me."

"C'mon now, Cap, I never get flowers," Gaz says, reaching out towards them. Price hands them over, their fingers brushing at the exchange, and he refuses to snatch his hand back even though it feels like the point of contact could burn him. Gaz cradles the flowers to his chest, leaning down to smell them.

"Thank you," he says then with a faint smile and Price mentally congratulates himself for the impulse buy.

"There's a vase on top the shelf above you," Gaz's roommate pipes up and Price nearly startles.

Gaz grins at the man. "Thanks, mate. Well, Cap?" He looks at Price expectantly, and suddenly Price is overcome with such fondness for his Sergeant that he doesn't know what to do.

It's helpless. He knows what it is, this unnamed emotion, the one he's still not brave enough to acknowledge. He thinks back to the panic he felt when Gaz went down, the desperation with which he hastily stuffed the bullet wound with gauze before heading for exfil. He should be groveling at Gaz's feet for forgiveness.

Perhaps he could, still, start with getting the bloody vase.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Hey if you could can you write for the Ancients comforting a fellow ancient reader who got kidnapped by their beast and chat with them? (I don't know how else to work this I'm not good at explaining things)

Plot suggestion: basically it's kind of just the scene from Sam Remy Spider-Man from Peter Parker getting kidnap to Green Goblin giving them a proposition then flying away saying "THINK ABOUT IT "HERO"" but with some alterations

Here's the scene that I'm talking about

https://youtu.be/sAfxBXAQCZM?si=LfuEqW_z1cqA9uqp

Brother, I had to go watch that scene- I will gladly do it. Side note, most likely going with the light of patience Y/N cookie because that's currently the only Y/N ancient cookie I've created.

Comfort after the chaos

After a long lasting series of VERY unfortunate events, you were back in your kingdom and exhausted. You just endured what seemed to be a forever lasting trip to and from Beast-Yeast and you had a lot on your mind. Especially after your encounter with the beasts. You have no idea how, but you had to travel there 5 times. And in all those five times you found yourself held captive. You were doing this to help your fellow ancients, NOT BE KIDNAPPED 5 TIMES IN THE TIME SPAN OF FIVE WEEKS!

Speaking of the ancients, they were all worried about you. You didn't have a previous holder of the light of patience, so there was no particular beast who was after your soul jam. But that was more of a reason to help your companions in defeating their beasts. However, you seemed to be targeted more than your allies, and no matter how hard you tried you found yourself in the same situation. In the clutches of the beasts.

The Beasts didn't harm you physically, but the mental trauma was far from ceasing anytime soon. Everything each of them said correlated to the conclusion that you'd be better off joining them and giving in to the corruption. Because there's nothing more the people love more than to watch a hero fall. In the end they'd all grow to be bitter to you, grow to hate you despite how much you've done for them. They'd hurt you and part of you knew it was true. "So why not hurt them fiirst?" That was always the question. All those interactions ended with them leaving you to think about it and you had never quite recovered from the experience

Your discomfort and unease did not go unnoticed by the other ancients, oh not at all. Every time you returned from beast yeast you seemed more shaken up and all of them felt guilty for having you tag along only to return traumatized. With this in mind, they all tried to comfort you as best they could. Though you never actually told them what had happened during your time being a hostage, they were determined to soothe any discomfort.

"Do not allow Shadow Milk cookies words to get to you, Y/N cookie. Anything from that Beast can not be trusted." Pure Vanilla cookie stated as he pulled a placed a tea cup on the table in front of you. He walks behind you and pulls a blanket over your shoulders as a means to make you feel at ease. And it's working. "I promise you that he will never be given the chance to disturb you so much. I will always be here to stir you in the right direction if he ever tries to get in your head again"

"I apologize once again that you had to be dragged through that issue, Y/N cookie." Dark Cacao said, he had grown a bit soft after he saw how being kidnapped had effected you. Despite you reassuring him that it wasn't his fault, he couldn't just leave it be. Though he wasn't exactly... best with comfort, you could see he was trying. Caramel Arrow Cookie and Crunchy Chip cookie were doing more of the direct comforting for him, CA occasionally hugging you and making sure you were ok whilst CC had his cream wolves huddle around you to comfort you. Both methods worked quite well. They did this because Dark Cacao himself genuinely wasn't sure of how the best way to console you would be after encountering Mystic Flour cookie. But you did appreciate the effort.

"Go on Y/N cookie! I insist. Anything you want shall be yours" Golden Cheese said. She had a plan, and that plan was to spoil you filthy! Anything you had taken an interest in was immediately yours. And even if you didn't want anything she'd still buy you things she knew you liked or gave you comfort. She would take you on flights around the kingdom too. She had also grown a habit of hugging you and wrapping her wings around you as though to protect you. And she was protecting you. Protecting you from Burning Spice cookie, as she should've done when you were still in Beast-Yeast. She's got you, and she ain't letting NOBODY try taking you away from her. They'd have to catch these hands first! And that gave you a sense of security

"How are you feeling, Y/N cookie? You doing better?" Hollyberry cookie asked as she prepared another cup of juice. You were both outside and she had been more of an energetic comforter than the previous three. A bit of fresh air and exercise should be a good distraction from whatever the heck Eternal Sugar cookie had said to you. She had also gotten you a lot of juice. Like- A LOT. You weren't sure if she was trying to get you drunk or something but fortunately none of them seemed to have alcohol. At least not the ones she had given you. She was also quite insistent on a bit more training so you could better prevent such situations, which was something you expected more from Dark Cacao but for some reason it didn't happen. Regardless, she's wants you to be protected, even if it's not by her.

"Please don't stray too far away, Y/N cookie. I still have yet to fully adjust to the forest myself." White Lily cookie requested as you both took a stroll under the night sky. She had been a lot more cautious with you after having lost you to Silent Salt cookie. She tried everything that usually made her feel better with you. Taking you to flower gardens, having a cup of tea whilst reading a good book, cuddles, any and everything. She also had the faeries take care of your needs when she couldn't be near, which they did gladly since they were aware of your contribution to their queens victory. White Lily will make sure you are as comfortable as possible and having her around is comforting in itself.

[mnemoiisms]

"Incorrigible" Trepan mutters as he makes himself comfortable, squinting at Tarn's hardly subtle grasp of a thigh in helping straighten his leg out, and Trepan is giving a slow vent as he isn't quite sure how much better or worse this would be. Tarn was pulling vertically this time, not using the little surgeon's body as a counter weight on the cabling to pull it taut, so perhaps why aside the building discomfort, this was far less painful than his arms and neck? Any little invent of pain, was met with Tarn easing back, letting it pass, and continuing.

He could feel it. The faint burn in cabling down his leg as between the pinned hip and the iron grip on his ankle, cabling and struts were forced out of their improper position. His HUD screamed to thrash, to kick, to free himself from what would surely render him immobile. The faint ebbing sensations of relief in his torso and arms kept him prone. Right until Tarn is pressing down on his knee to force everything straight and ... What do you know? Legs are less intricate than arms when it comes to being pulled like that.

"Far less jarring" Trepan admits as he props himself up on his elbows, rolling his pede from side to side, and curiously lifting his leg to test the new range of movement through his hip and knee joints. He'd probably need a soak to fully appreciate Dr Tarnit's work, but?

"... Without letting this go to your ego, I think you were right, and it was good we did attempt the legs all in one go." After all, Tarn is right. The bath wasn't going anywhere.

Arms sliding out from under him to flop back, lacing his digits over his window, and Trepan is sticking out his remaining leggy real far. Come on, Tarn. Only one more limb, and you lose the ability to fondle pearly plating until bath time is over. And the ... hot yoga can begin.

Consensual torture

“No, not the stretch I had been thinking of…” Tarn agrees, having perfectly heard Trepan despite his muttering. “…But I guess none of us is getting what they had been hoping for.” For now, at least. Let Tarn have this little moment of physical vengeance.

But with finally with Trepan’s consent, he is placing a servo firmly on the surgeon’s right hip to pin it to the berth, while the other is taking hold of a pearly white thigh he is definitely not giving a little fondling before moving on to business, grabbing an ankle to -very slowly, as promised- tug as if he were to pull the limb out of his joint socket.

He is keeping an optic on Trepan, watching for any sign of discomfort, and upon receiving no complains, he is twisting the limb to make it rotate clockwise and anticlockwise as much as the joint allows him to.

And finally, he is going to force that knee to flex all the way down until everything pops back into place.

“Well, how did that feel?” Tarn asked, servos gingerly leaving their object of adoration.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

the amount of effort that goes into figuring out what to cook and eat every day is RIDICULOUS. i used to think people were so weird and boring for eating the same thing every single day but it truly does make life so much easier