#his head is also the toughest part of him

[the-dragon-blade]

Another small headcanon:

Igris'Ir has a particularly tough skin, akin to stone in toughness. It is especially strong on, and around, the places he has his markings though, namely his face, shoulders, chest and back. This is the reason he does not need a helmet or shoulderguards, and even a breastplate isnt necessary, although the added protection on the vitals is something he still appreciates on serious battles.

[hasnomoxxie]

Could you tell us more about Dan from Levity Rises?

YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW LONG I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME AB LEVITY RISES

I recently updated the designs for them so I'll talk ab them all if you don't mind :]c

I'll add the most information on Dan though just for you bbg!

I do plan on making a few screenshot redraws (and potentially an intro animatic because an awesome person actually made a theme for this au)

THE MYSTERY TWINS ⇆ THE ORIGINAL MYSTERY TWINS

Stanley and Stanford Pines take on the roles of Dipper and Mabel! Stan's curious and is the more mystery focussed one whereas Ford is more energetic and active than his base counterpart.

Stanley is an adventurous young boy, looking for the next interesting trip to go on, initially thinking spending the summer at Levity Rises was going to be a waste of time. Though after arriving and finding the scrapbooks alongside the anomalies happening across Levity, he and his brother quickly became obsessed with finding out the secrets of the Rises, as well as who the mysterious Smile Pup(swapped with bill cypher) is.

Ford (often going by 'Six' or 'Sixer) is a happy go lucky and optimistic young child who is alot tougher than his base counterpart was at his age. Since it's typically only just been him and his brother, so he's eager to make the best of his summer by meeting new people, though he hides his polydactyly with gloves he changes frequently.

DIPPER ⇆ STANLEY

Dipper takes the role of Grunkle Stan in this au!

Owner of the mystery shack, Grunkle Mason- or (Big) Dipper to people around Levity Rises- is the resident faux scientist of the town. His personality is more eccentric, tending to get hyper fixated on paranormal paraphernalia, to the point in where he does lock himself away for periods at a time.

Not much is known about his origins, he just kind of always existed on the outsidea of the town, but after opening the shack to the public, people quickly accepted his presence due to his quirky personality.

MANLY DAN ⇆ SOOS

Dan actually takes the role of Soos in this au, being the resident handyman of the mystery shack! Though often the lines blur between his role and Wendy's from the original. Wanted to keep it flexible yk?

Dan's a real dude's bro, pretty dim witted and blunt but often chill and level headed- Unless he's challenged- dude's competitive as hell, it's actually crazy. His mother, dubbed 'womanly wendy', is the toughest lady in town, owning a diner, aptly named 'Wendy's'.

Dan enjoys working at the Shack as it's one of the few places that'll let him freely experiment with his logging with the nearby trees for his own projects and adding fixtures onto the shack, which Dipper is pretty thankful for since he can focus his efforts on other things. It's also because of this reason that Dipper puts up with Dan's outbursts and semi airheaded personality. So it's safe to say, he's there the majority of the time.

Stan admires Danny alot and the events of 'Into the bunker' happens with Dan in place of Wendy. This does mean Stan had a passing crush on Danny during the episode, but even afterwards Stan kind of puts him on a pedestal. Ford enjoys Dan's company often being called 'little man' and playfighting on occasion. The twins act like his little hype men and he enjoys hanging with them.

As for Soos in this au, he initially built the mystery shack and is frequently seen around Levity Rises taking on odd jobs and making people as happy as they can be, though it's implied that he hasn't found his true calling yet.

LAZY SUZAN ⇆ WENDY

Lazy Suzan takes the role of Wendy in this au! Hazy Jane is a part time worker at the mystery shack, and is stan's first crush upon arrival to the Rises. She's a bit of an odd soul with a less than perfect memory, but is incredible at making a homely environment for the shack. Despite that, she can be extremely co-dependent in some situations, especially with her boyfriend. Otherwise she's earnest and does her best at her job. The events of 'Soos and the real girl' occur with Jane instead of Soos (and Rumble instead of GIFanny). Despite wanting to help, Stan is incredibly pouty throughout the episode.

Here's the design line up as well as initial notes I made when redoing them!

Hope this answered your question about Dan :]

RAUGH THANKS SO MUCH FOR ASKING THOUGHHHHHH

(EDIT)

SOMEONE SUGGESTED A BETTER SWAP FOR BILL, I JUST HAD TO ADD IT!

(EDIT EDIT)

I'm fixing wording and stuff so it's easier to read soz :p

[gotta-winwin]

(☎️) ... merry christmas, please don't call

⭐ starring: seungcheol

☎️ preview: The toughest part about loving Seungcheol was the fact that he didn’t know himself at all. And how does one truly love a ghost? 

based on the song Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call by Bleachers

“But you should know that I died slow Running through the halls of your haunted home And the toughest part is that we both know What to happened to you Why you're out on your own Merry Christmas, please don't call”

tw/cw: heavy angst + smut, not a happy ending, tortured lovers, coups is an asshole but he doesn't mean to, idol!seungcheol x nonidol!reader, talk of leader responsibilities, abstract telling of sexual intercourse, heavy topics such as anxiety and depression

🪽fic rating/wc: 18+ / 2.4k

☁️ masterlist & a/n: this heavy angst christmas fic is to combat the insane amount of fluff in the vernon christmas special (ᵕ—ᴗ—) it's also very self indulgent angst + smut with coups. thank you for spending 2024 with me and i cannot wait to spend 2025 with you too!

“Oh, golden boy, don't act like you were kind”

He was inevitable in the end. Like some invisible string connected the two of you together. Not the pretty, dainty kind of invisible string. Whatever held your lives together was made of barbed wire. Whatever line wrapped around your ribs, restricting your breathing, tying you to him was nothing pretty. It was what army men used in wars. 

You can’t hate your best friend, even if they end up hurting you. You just can’t.

“Come back to bed.” You whisper in the dark as you watch his dark silhouette get up. The clock on his nightstand was barely legible. 

You could hear him throwing a shirt on. “I’ve got to go.”

You open your mouth to ask him again, but the words die in your mouth. A couple days ago you would’ve begged, but the bubbling hatred in you pushed the words down your esophagus, momentarily choking you. Seungcheol noticed your silence. 

“I’ll be back before sunrise.” He leans over the bed and kisses your cheek, brushing a stray hair from it. “Don’t be mad.”

You shake your head in the dark. “I’m not mad.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

That was just how the world spun. You, lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling you used to trace constellations on together. Sheets that smelled like him - aftershave and candles. Pleading words sewn shut in your mouth, hidden in your lungs, suffocating you. As you sank back into sleep, drowning under everything you’ve ever wanted to tell him. You knew it wasn’t his fault. After all - he barely knew who he was, hidden under all his responsibilities and his job title, he was barely a semblance of a man - tugged and stitched together. 

It barely registered in your mind that tomorrow would be Christmas Eve. Part of you knew he wouldn’t be there to celebrate anyways. 

“You know this moment don’t ya And time is strangely calm now”

You could say what drew Seungcheol to you initially was your confidence. It illuminated you like a beacon, a moth to the flame, as his eyes followed your movements from across the crowded room. 

It was Christmas Eve in Korea, and everyone in the right circles knew Johnny Suh’s Holiday Bash was the place to be. 

At least, that was what your friends had told you, claiming they had a way in and convincing you to join them. 

You were pleasantly surprised to find that for untouchable K-pop idols, everyone at the party was oddly normal. Kim Sunwoo’s voice could be heard over all the chaos, forehead pressed up against Lee Haechan’s, caught in the middle of some intense drinking game. Jeon Jungkook took a love shot with a heavily drunk Kim Mingyu, the sounds of their glass cups clinking against one another catching your attention.

Drifting away from the noise, you moved upstairs, your hand tracing the natural engravings against the wooden banister. The dim lights made it difficult to see, as you searched for a respite away from the noise downstairs. You’d certainly never question a K-opo idol’s ability to party again.

It was Seungcheol’s quiet stare that made you approach him, noticing how he sat with his back against the smooth white wall, his hair falling into his eyes. It was odd to see him alone, unaccompanied by his usual entourage of rowdy members. When alone, he seemed oddly sad, as if he was trying to convince himself he wasn’t. Perhaps it was the vulnerability in his eyes that urged you to sit next to him. 

“I’d like to be alone, please.” He mumbled, turning his big eyes towards you. The light from downstairs caught in his irises, refracting into a million tiny lights. 

“Me too.” 

Your reply amused him as he watched you, intrigued by the way you stared off into the distance. He hadn’t known how you had noticed his glassy, tearfilled eyes from the get go, or else he would’ve walked away. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

Your offhanded tone made the loaded question fall easier against his chest. He could feel himself breathing routinely once more, the tears in his eyes receding as he processed your question and figured out an answer. 

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” He admitted, finally turning the whole of his body to face you, moving his knees up against his chest as he leaned back against the wall once more. 

There was something about him that made you want to help him. Maybe it was the fact that he was famous for being the reliable leader, responsible for too many things at such a young age. Maybe it was because, based on the things you’ve heard about him, you knew you could relate. Maybe you had already known - even then - that the two of you were different sides of the same coin. That he was inevitable in the end. 

“I’ve got time.” You send him an open smile. “Lay it on me.”

Even to this day, Seungcheol had no idea why he confided in you, a total stranger, on the floor of a Johnny Suh Christmas party. He usually held his cards close to his chest - so close in fact, that the people around him often joked that he couldn’t read the cards himself. 

So maybe he knew you were inevitable in the end too. 

But neither of you could’ve ever predicted what would become of the two of you by the time the next Christmas rolled around. 

“Oh, golden boy, you shined a light on our home, And at your best you were magic; we were sold” 

By the time the next Christmas rolled around, everyone around Seungcehol would credit you as the one who had “fixed” him. It was a term they all danced around lightly - fixed. None of them knew how to describe it, but Seungcheol was happier, louder, and had magically learnt the art of self-confidence. 

“That is not my hyung.” Chan yelled into your ear from the side of the bar, eyeing Seungcheol, who was on the dance floor surrounded by an ecstatic Soonyoung and Mingyu. “My Seungcheol hyung does not dance.” 

You laughed, because you knew the amount of work that had taken him to get where he was now. No one, except the two of you, would know about the late nights Seungcheol had spent near tears as you knelt by him, soothing phrases leaving your lips only to crash against his back. 

“Look at him.” Chan was pointing an accusatory finger at Seungcheol, who had a wide grin on his face as he watched Soonyoung attempt to win over a girl on the dance floor. “He used to avoid the dance floor like it’d kill him. Hell, he avoided the bar in general.”

You followed his finger, a small smile drifting over your features as you witnessed Seungcheol laugh, the sound travelling straight to your core as you watched him. As if he had felt your stare, Seungcheol turned, his bright smile shining upon you as he reached out a hand, gesturing you towards him. 

“Hi.” His forehead pressed against yours as he spoke. 

“Hi.” You whispered back as he pulled you closer, relishing the safety you felt within his strong arms. 

“I love you.” He said, but there were other words hidden deep beneath them. Don’t leave. 

“I love you too.” Don’t hurt me. 

“And the toughest part is that we both know What happened to you”

You dreaded each time he was called in for work. You knew he loved his job, and more often than not, he would have a good time - singing, dancing, creating with his friends for his fans. But you also saw the heavy weight that followed him home whenever it wasn’t a good time. Each company meeting where he was yelled at, each unsettling encounter with a crazy fan, each hate post you knew your boyfriend had read multiple times over. 

You both knew the baggage that followed him home far outweighed the good he felt. But you couldn’t ask him to leave - because that would ruin him too. 

February 19 2022. The date forever seared in the front of your mind. It was the day Seungcheol had returned home after dropping out of his world tour. 

He had landed on your shared porch like a dead bird. 

“Cheol.” You grabbed at his shoulders, trying to get a good look at his face. 

He pushed past you into your shared home, kicking off his shoes and throwing his bags onto the floor. You watched him leave up the stairs. You heard the door of your shared bedroom swing close, the lock click into place. 

You didn’t mind sleeping on the couch that night. You knew he needed his space. 

“I’m sorry.” He had told you the next morning, his eyes betraying his lack of sleep. 

Handing him his breakfast, you shook your head. “Don’t apologize. Do you want to talk about it?” 

He shook his head. “Not really.” 

First crack in the glass. You really should’ve known. After all, Seungcheol told you everything.

“But you should know that I died slow Running through the halls of your haunted home” 

Seungcheol kissed you each time like he was afraid to lose you. His kisses were full of passion, firm and messy. He kissed you like he was constantly running out of time. 

His calloused hands ran gently against your bare skin, handling you like pieces of precious glass.

“I love you.” He’d murmur against your stomach as he inched his way down, looking up at you with shining eyes - akin to the way he once looked at you during your first meeting. That was something special about him: his eyes sparkled the same way whether he was crying or in love. You had yet to learn the difference. 

Seungcheol liked holding you as he pushed in, craving the feeling of closeness and how he was connected inside of you, with you. You were his escape and his solace, his mind numbing into a void of white as pleasure coursed through him. The usual jumble in his brain ceased to attack him and he was left with the sole thought of showing you how much he truly did love you. 

Seungcheol loved making love with you. It was the aftermath where he didn’t. 

“I love you.” You’d whisper as you threaded your fingers through his hair, your other hand drawing circles against his bare skin - and your voice would feel planets away. 

The loudness of his own mind was back, the mess of barely coherent thoughts intruding once again. Seungcheol knew it made no sense. 

“You were mine, but you were awful every time”

Choi Seungcheol was not good for your soul. You knew that. He was a man full of paradox, forever contradicting himself and everything you’ve ever felt for him. Even the way his coarse hands gently traced the bones of your back felt contradictory, when he had only just told you the two of you could never be together. 

“We won’t work.” His lower lip jutted out as he spoke, his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. 

“I know.” You were tired of begging, the constant back and forth. Seungcheol would run, and then he would still find his way back to you in the following few months. That was just how this relationship worked, and you were used to it by now. 

“I’m sorry.” He would whisper, cupping his hands around your face as his thumbs traced your cheekbones, a gesture filled with silent love. 

Then don’t leave, you wanted to yell at him. If he really was sorry, if he really did love you, why would he still leave each time? But you knew that wasn’t how he operated. 

You knew Choi Seungcheol wanted you. But he barely knew what he wanted himself. 

“'Cause everybody's gone it's Just you and your anger”

You knew he’d be back like clockwork. You knew Seungcheol could never stray from you for too long, some hindrance keeping him from ever truly leaving you. 

He’d leave each time he felt like he wasn’t enough, each time you failed to convince him he was. Then he’d come back the moment that insecurity vanished, leaving him with his anger. At himself, at the world, at you. 

Seungcheol’s anger burned in white and blue. His anger was silent, suffocating, almost petty and petulant by nature. He would never yell or raise a hand at you but he’d push you away. Further and further until it felt like you never really knew him at all. 

“I love you.” You’d say, and he’d just hum in response. 

“Cheol.” You’d beg, because even when you said you were done begging, you knew you’d do it again. “Look at me, please.” 

He turned, although his eyes locked on some spot right above your head. 

“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” You’d ask him. “Let me help.” 

You knew your attempts at understanding were futile. Choi Seungcheol’s fatal flaw was his independence. He relied on no one but himself. 

“Merry Christmas, please don't call

Merry Christmas, I'm not yours at all”

You supposed Christmas Eve was as good a time as it could get. There would be no best time, you knew that now. You had been looking for the perfect time to leave and look where you were now. Six years deep, in love with a man who barely knew love himself. 

Merry Christmas. You wrote, leaving the letter tucked neatly beside his Christmas gift on the living room table. You knew you couldn’t say goodbye in person. One look at his shining eyes and you’d be begging for his love once more. 

I know none of this is anyone’s fault. You had begun the letter with. I know there are just some things nobody can fix. 

Your hand on the doorknob, your other hand clutched around the handle of your bags, you turned to take in the place one last time. Memories of you and Seungcheol circulated through the air as you lingered by the door, unable to step forward. 

Because that was the couch where he had said I love you for the first time, his face inches from yours. That was the kitchen lights that had flickered when broken, the same lights in which you had danced under, wrapped warmly in his arms. 

I really do wish you the best, Cheolie. And because at Christmas, you tell the truth - I hope you find everything you need to be happy in this life. Merry Christmas. Please don’t call. 

a/n: ending off the 2024 season with a bang! if you made it this far, thank you so much for following along through the beginning of this blog - and i'm excited to spend the next year with you!

[insidekatmind]

INTERVIEW-JONATHAN DAVISS

The interview was scheduled for 4:00 PM, and you had arrived half an hour early. You hated being late, and your team knew it. As soon as you stepped into the studio, brightly lit and adorned with the vibrant colors of the Outer Banks logo, you immediately noticed Jonathan Daviss sitting on one of the stools. He was waiting for you.

With his charming smile and relaxed energy, he greeted you with a wave.

"I thought I was the early bird in the group, but you beat me to it," he said, his contagious laughter filling the space.

You walked closer, feeling a slight warmth creep up your cheeks. Jonathan had this way of making you feel at ease while also leaving you slightly flustered.

"I don’t want to give the press a reason to write about me being the last one to show up," you replied playfully, taking a seat next to him.

Jonathan shot you a knowing look, and in that moment, you sensed something subtle in the air—something that everyone watching the interview was bound to notice.

When the microphones were set up and the host kicked things off, the questions started flowing. They covered the new season of Outer Banks, the bond between the characters, and the challenges of filming. But every time Jonathan answered, his eyes would seek yours, as if to ensure you agreed with what he was saying.

"So, what’s it like working with her?" the host asked, nodding toward you with a curious smile.

Jonathan tilted his head, pretending to think hard about it. "Terrible. Really, a nightmare on set."

"Jonathan!" you exclaimed, laughing as you gave him a light shove on the shoulder.

He laughed even louder. "I’m kidding! Honestly, working with her is like… having a light on set. She always knows how to lift everyone’s spirits, even on the toughest days."

His words caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush. The host, not missing the opportunity, teased further: "That almost sounds like a confession!"

Jonathan shrugged, looking at you again. "Well, let’s just say the chemistry you see between our characters… it’s all real."

You lowered your gaze, laughing nervously. You weren’t sure how to respond, but the studio audience laughed and clapped, fueling the playful atmosphere.

During a break to adjust the lighting, Jonathan leaned closer to you.

"I didn’t embarrass you, did I?" he asked in a quieter, more intimate tone.

You shook your head. "No, you were… sweet, as always."

He smiled, holding your gaze a moment longer than necessary. "You know, I didn’t lie about anything I said earlier."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Not even the part about me being a nightmare?" you joked, trying to lighten the moment.

Jonathan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, that was obviously a lie."

When the interview resumed, the host couldn’t help but point out your dynamic again. "So, the question everyone wants to know: are you two this close only on screen, or is there something more off-screen?"

You smiled, trying to keep things professional. "We have a great working relationship," you replied, leaving just a hint of ambiguity in your tone.

Jonathan, however, added: "But I’d say our relationship goes beyond that. We’re great friends, and I think that shows."

The host grinned, clearly pleased with his response. "Well, I can say the fans are going to go wild when they see this interview!"

---

Once it was over and everyone was packing up the set, Jonathan approached you again.

"How about a coffee? To recover from all that attention," he said with a playful grin.

You nodded, feeling a wave of excitement. "Sounds like a good idea."

And as the two of you walked out of the studio together, you realized you weren’t the only one who had felt that spark. Everyone had seen it, but most importantly, you both had felt it.

[roturo]

LIKE CRAZY - dick grayson x f!reader

① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: bestfriends into lovers.

→ summary: Being friends with a beautiful and smart guy like Dick had you like crazy. Plenty of girls would be asking for his number, or a date with him. But all of them got rejected by him, why? well, because he only had eyes for you.

→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), use of nicknames (sweetheart, princess, baby, good girl, etc), teasing, jealous!dick, insecure reader, possessive behavior, reader is mentioned as part of the og titans, kinda of stalker/pervert behavior, size kink.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

Being friends with Dick Grayson wasn't easy. You spent many nights of your life waiting for him to come back from patrol and heal any wound he came back with. As much you tried to stay away from any of the heroes things since the originals Titans dissolved, somehow he always found a way to make you follow him in every new adventure he found. Even if this meant to never becoming a normal person with a normal job, normal clothes, or normal dates.

Dick wouldn't describe himself as a pervert. Yeah, he has his... problems. But a pervert? Haha, no. Watching you from a distance through your windows from your apartment isn't being a pervert... a stalker? well...

He wouldn't lie he felt his bottom part of his suit getting tighter every time he saw you by accident, ACCIDENT, changing clothes, or going out after a shower in just some tiny panties looking for some shirt he left in your house to wear with no bra.

But this night? Oh this night was different. You were getting extra ready. Were you going to text him to go out? Come to your place?

And don't get him wrong, he's not in love with you. Possessive? Well, maybe. Someone had to keep an eye on you.

He's been quite busy getting the Titans together again in some way, taking care of Rachel, dealing whatever is going on with Kory, and well, Deathstroke.

And maybe he's a little upset and maybe mad at the fact you wouldn't come back to help him with Deathstroke, but he has the other Titans right? This was only part of one of his problems.

But you weren't as selfish as him, you get worried about your friends, and usually ask them how's everything going. And that also included a very descriptive situationship of Dick and Kory for your taste.

So he's finding someone new, that's okay! You can't deny every since you met Dick, you had a tiny whiny little crush on him. How couldn't you? You both have been friends since you were little kids, you were always together, had helped the other in the toughest situations...

So, what a other better way to move on than meeting someone new? This new guy was kind, funny, nice looking, maybe not as handsome as Dick, but passable, he might not be as intelligent as Dick, or as protective and fit as him, but knowing that your crush might get with someone prettier, stronger, than you, had you like crazy.

You can hear the voices in your head trying to get the pressure off you as quickly as possible in some bad ways, but you couldn't let yourself do something bad or that would affect Dick in some way.

New guy invited you to some new club in the city, you were getting ready to get lost in the lights and drunk in the dance, you got this new Cetacean blue tiny dress, which you called ¨nightwing blue¨ since it reminded you of him. Last touches of makeup and you were ready to go out. And just in time, your date knocked on the door.

When Dick saw you getting out of your room a little too excited for his liking, he got.. worried? jealous?... you were probably going out with some friends.

¨Oh¨ Were the words that left his mouth when he saw you opening the door and smiling to new guy. When did you met new guy? You never told him about him. Quickly he got his phone out and took a picture of new guy for some... future research. Right now he had another problem to deal with.

¨Sorry, wait for me a minute i'm going for my phone¨ You told him while going back to your room, but when you came back, you never expected seeing Dick coming out of your bathroom in some pajamas he probably left one day in your apartment, with a short glance before he closed the door you could see his suit somewhere in the floor of your bathroom.

¨Babe? Is this your new friend you talked me about? The gay one?¨ Were the first words he left while going close to the door and looking at your date, with a devil grin in his face he got behind you wrapping his arms in your waist in a possessive way. To say you were shocked was little, same to your now ex-date.

¨I'm sorry new friend, but me and my girlfriend have some things to talk and figure out. Maybe next time you can go out with her. If there´s a next time.¨ The last words were barely loud enough for you to hear when he closed the door extending his arm while not letting you go in a no so calm way.

What. The. Fuck.

¨Yeah, I should ask you that too¨ You didn't realized you said it out loud. ¨What are you doing here Dick?¨ Was your first of many questions, but to say the big bump you started feeling at the back of your low back wasn't making you giddy, had you wondering if all this was a dream.

¨Claiming what's mine.¨ He answered to your question, turning you around, looking at your small figure and doe eyes full of pure confusion had his pants getting tighter around his cock. ¨When you were telling me you had this new friend princess?¨ He said, moving his hand to your face, tilting your chin to a side with one of his fingers. ¨He's not a friend.¨ You told him, assuring him he's no longer a friend, knowing how Dick is, you recognized the darkness in his eyes, but also you think you're getting crazy because you swear you can see a pint of lust in his eyes. But you guess Dick didn't got your clarification as how you meant it, since he pushed you to the wall, caging you with his arms.

¨Oh, so he's not a friend? What is he then?¨ He looked at you, eyes now full of just lust, devouring every inch of your body, waiting for a word that would let him in and make you his. ¨He's nothing now.¨ you told him, locking eyes with him, is like he read your thoughts, both of you wanted it to happen and it did.

¨Good girl.¨ The last words that left his mouth when he started kissing you, it's like both of you were waiting for this moment to happen because the kiss was full of passion. You could feel his smile while kissing you, with a small bite of your lower lip that made you let out a small whine, he started kissing your neck, every time going lower and making sure to leave a bruise that will turn purple by tomorrow. ¨You don't know how much I missed you princess¨

His words made your legs weaker, and a wet feeling became stronger going down your thighs. His hand started going towards that place were you needed friction, and when you felt his fingers playing with your panties a small moan left your mouth. ¨Oh sweetheart... all wet for me. Just for me right?¨ He pinched your clit with his thumb and index finger making you squint and give small nods to him. ¨Words baby, I need words.¨ He started playing with your clit, his mouth not leaving your neck.

¨Dick... Please...¨ You said, putting each hand of yours in his shoulders for support. ¨What do you want princess?¨ His hands moving your underwear to the side, getting his fingers wet thanks to your fluids. ¨I need you Dick¨ You moaned at the movement of his fingers playing with your hole, clenching around nothing.

¨Where do you need me baby?... Here¨ He introduced one finger into your needy hole, making you leave a loud moan. ¨Here?¨ His finger moved towards your clit, playing with it. ¨Or... Here?¨ He introduced his wet finger into your mouth, making you taste yourself at which you gratefully sucked his finger. ¨Everywhere, I need you everywhere.¨

With no more words needed he unlaced his sweatpants, taking his cock out, an angry reddish tip needy for attention was leaking pre-cum, ready to be introduced to your as equal needy cunt.

He turned you around, with no care, he broke your panties in the need of freeing your cunt. Your hands looking for support got into the wall, the cold breeze of air feeling your cunt, got you needier. ¨Can you please just fuck me Dick?¨ You said, moving your hips backwards looking for some friction of any kind. ´´Greedy, aren't we?¨ He chuckled at you being this impatient for him. Never in a thousand times, he though he would have accepted his feelings for you. But almost loosing you to another man, had him like crazy.

So with no time wasted, he inserted himself into you, making you moan at the process, Dick threw all his self-control and started thrusting into you. All you could say was small mumbles of his name and words like ¨more¨ ¨faster¨ ¨harder¨

Like if the feeling of his cock inside of you wasn't enough one of his hands moved all the way down until he found your clit and started playing with it. You were sure the other hand who was supporting you by grabbing you by your hips was going to lease some bruise tomorrow.

¨This pussy is all mine. No one's else, all mine now love.¨The last four words were said each by one hard thrust into you, perfectly touching your g-spot with each one. ¨You´re all mine now sweetheart. I won't let anyone else have you.¨

His words and the sound of skins slapping made you dizzy enough for your vision to start turning blurry, the pleasure becoming too much for you, your climax came like a rollercoaster. But that didn't stopped him, it made him even more desirable of having you all for him. You didn't think his thrusts would become faster or harder but oh boy... the did.

And that didn't stopped you for coming again, clenching his cock with a loud moan when your liquids started going out of you. You squirted all over him and it felt so good. That brought Dick over the edge and made him cum. Giving some last hard thrusts into you to deposit all of him, he just smiled while giving you little pecks in your neck and back.

¨I love you.¨

He hugged you, ¨And i'm sorry this is the way you're finding out, but I couldn't stand seeing you getting ready for another man that isn't me¨ He turned you around, the lost of the feeling of him inside you made you whine.

Inserting his cock again into his pants, and adjusting your dress, he gave you another kiss, this one full of pure and sincere love, his eyes no longer full of lust but now full of passion.

¨So you were stalking me?¨ You said between a giggle, which turned into a small laugh when you saw his face turning into shock and his ears getting red. It's like you didn't know he was watching you almost everynight getting ready for bed, and maybe some nights you gave him a show of your naked body.

¨Uh...No?¨ Was all he could say before you kissed him again and laughed at his shyness of being discovered.

You were sure this guy was the love of your life.

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 6

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 5.4K

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse. Oral sex (female receiving). ANGST. Oh the angst. Mentions of war and deployment.

Summary: Will starts to distance himself from you to the point of being unable to mend things and tension rises between the Miller brothers over his actions.

A/N: No notes. Just tears. GIF by the amazing and generous @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler and beautiful banners by the loveliest and most supportive @spaghettificationandpretzels who also was my sounding board for my ideas and maniacal mood swings while writing this 💗💗

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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“What if I hurt her, Ben?”

“You won't.”

“If she was in that bed with me last night-”

“You won't.” Benny insisted, cutting Will off before he could continue, sending his older brother a concerned, but stern glance as he turned around after filling his mug with coffee.

Will sighed and looked down at his feet, clenching his teeth together as the same thoughts that hadn't left him since last night continued to occupy his mind.

“It was so real, man…”

“I can imagine!” Benny sympathized, his eyebrows raising on his forehead, silently assessing his brother who he'd only seen that distraught once or twice before. “But you're not going to hurt her. That,” he emphasized, referring to Will’s nightmare, “isn't going to happen.”

Will puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled again, looking out the kitchen window where the early morning sun was casting a yellow glow over the room, hoping Benny was right, but not feeling convinced.

“Are you seeing her today?”

Will pursed his lips and nodded, looking over at Benny who stared at him over the rim of his mug as he took a long sip, waiting for a proper response.

“Yeah, I'm going to her place tonight.”

Benny shook his head up and down as he swallowed his coffee, appearing pleased with that answer.

“Good, that's good. We’ll have a hard session at the gym and hopefully that'll help you sleep better, too.”

“Yeah, you're right. Thanks, man,” Will smiled, feeling slightly guilty that he knew he wasn't going to sleep or feel better about this anytime soon, watching Benny light up and start excitedly going on about their training after Will’s convincing lie.

After refilling his cup of coffee, Will pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat, staring blankly at the black beverage steaming in his mug, tuning out whatever else Benny was saying, the exhaustion he felt from not sleeping the rest of the night and the pure panic that hadn’t truly left his veins making his whole body feel like lead in the wooden seat.

He wondered exactly how he would even manage to get through a workout, but knew with his tour coming up he’d have to keep training, and as he was always used to doing, he would push through even the toughest days.

Will picked his phone up off the table, checking it again to see if you had text, wondering if he should send one now, or wait until a bit later, or if he should just call you and risk you hearing that something wasn’t right in the tone of his voice.

He tossed it carelessly, sighing as he picked up his mug and took a drink from it, setting it down and then grabbing his phone again, spinning it in his hand indecisively.

Will roughly rubbed his hands over his eyes after he parked his truck in your driveway, exhaling deeply before finding the strength to get out and walk to the door, his workout draining him even more than he already had been. It temporarily gave him hope that being that tired would result in him actually sleeping, but the feeling in his stomach reminded him how anxious he still felt about his nightmare and that it was something his mind wasn’t going to simply let him forget.

For a moment it was all whisked away, seeing your face as you opened the door before he even had the opportunity to knock, your smile immediately making one appear on his own lips.

“Hey!” you greeted enthusiastically, your presence bringing him some calm as soon as you wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him.

Will placed his lips against your head, inhaling your scent and pressing a light kiss as he squeezed you back, the relief to have you in his arms mixing with the now persistent fear that he was capable of hurting you.

“How was your day?” you asked, peeling away from him slightly to look at him.

“Good,” he lied, nodding and hoping he didn’t look half as weary as he felt. “What about you?”

“It was good,” you smiled. “Better now.”

Will chuckled and followed you inside, kicking his boots off before following you further in and through to the living room.

“Are you hungry?”

“Hmm, no, I’m good, thanks.” Will declined, seeing a quizzical expression draw over your features.

“Okay…are you not staying the night?” you asked, finally noticing he came with just himself, no bag with a change of clothes or toothbrush.

“Uh, no…” he confirmed through a sigh, feeling guilty about it already. “I gotta be up early, something for work. It’s looking like I’m going to start getting back into things soon,” he lied, omitting the fact that he was already cleared and scheduled for duty in a matter of weeks.

You smiled despite feeling a slight sense of disappointment. “Well, I’m glad I get you for a little bit at least. How are you feeling about going back?”

Will shrugged. “It’ll be good to have a purpose again, maybe it’ll make things feel normal…get me back to being who I was before I was the guy who choked someone out in the cereal aisle.”

His heart ached at how you were looking at him as he spoke, your expression so genuine and clearly caring about him and how he felt, making that sourness in his stomach amplify from his dishonesty.

“Yeah, I think so, too,” you spoke softly, your eyes bright as the smile on your lips met them. “I’m really happy for you, Will. This is great news.”

You reached for his hands which he let you take hold of, pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss that grew deeper and harder with each second, a sense of relief flooding Will over the fact that he didn’t have to explain more or evade the truth.

He focused on your kiss, breathing you in as your hands began to roam each other’s bodies and clumsily tore at clothing, stumbling toward your bedroom where he hoped that for as long as he was inside you, he would forget about everything.

It was all a mix of slow and fast, Will constantly reminding himself to relax and breathe, all of his emotions toiling within him uncontrollably.

As eager as he felt to have all of you as much as he could, Will wanted to take his time, soaking up each moment with you while he had the chance, every touch and kiss one that he tried to imprint in his memory.

Will sat on the bed, looking up at you as you stood close to him between his legs, his hands gently running up the backs of your thighs to your bum.

You sighed out slowly and closed your eyes, feeling his fingers find the edge of your panties and start to tug them down your hips, his lips landing on your bare stomach where he kissed you over and over.

He breathed in, keeping his nose and lips pressed against you, able to smell your arousal as he slipped your thong down to your knees before letting go where they fell the rest of the way to the floor.

Dragging his face along the crest of your hip bones and further down to your groin, Will moaned, his fingers indenting your flesh instinctively, feeling himself relax when your hands smoothed over his tense shoulders and back, your touch everything he needed right now.

He pulled you onto the bed with him as he laid down, both of you resting on your sides where your leg fell over his, his arms embracing you while your foreheads touched, his hand cupping your cheek to keep you close to him.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, sensing something from him you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Hmm, yeah,” he responded, moving his head so your noses rubbed together.

You gave a quick kiss to his lips, testing the waters, only to have him pull your face hard into his, his tongue delving into your mouth desperately, his claim over you clear as he released his hand from your face and grabbed under your bum, pulling your core against him where he ground his hips into yours.

With what little space there was between your bodies, you reached down and found his cock straining through the thin cotton of his boxers, grabbing it and tugging it free before angling it down to the apex of your thighs where it nestled perfectly between your folds and began to grind on him.

“God, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he groaned, hardly able to believe it felt that incredible without even being inside you yet.

You squirmed against him, moving along his length as you breathed out slowly and closed your eyes, your mouth teasing his before slotting your lips together again. His beard was soft on your skin, but you knew with how eager you were to keep kissing him that your face would feel raw by the time you were sated, the taste of him too good to stop.

Moments passed with you just like this, kissing and teasing, indulging in the soft and slow that you seldom did, usually unable to stop yourselves from choosing a rough and fast pace.

A long whine came from you as his tip breached your entrance, pushing through and settling no more than an inch inside, the tease of it almost equally as satisfying as if he was buried completely in you.

His hands grabbed at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, the stretch feeling so good you automatically brought your hips closer to his body, making his cock go deeper while you increased the fervor of your kiss.

Will groaned into your mouth as he shifted his body, moving at lay on top of you where his weight pressed you comfortably into the mattress, lifting his hips so his cock slid out before slowing forcing it back in again.

His fingers raked over the sides of your head, holding you securely and angling your face up to his, his tongue exploring your mouth wildly as his thrusts grew into a deep, purposeful rhythm.

The thought of never being able to do this with you again crossed his mind, wondering what the outcome of telling you he was leaving would be and if he would even make it back alive, dreading what he knew he would have to face sooner rather than later.

Trying to ignore that panic, he relished in the way your hands smoothed over his back, your touch so soft yet so meaningful it helped make everything more profound, and he vowed to put everything he had into making love to you.

There had been so many times already he had wanted to say it, to tell you he loved you, because fuck did he ever, but now he knew he couldn’t, wanting to protect you from him even more and what he feared he was capable of.

Each rolling thrust was met perfectly by you, your hips purling into his to take him deep, allowing him to drag out slowly before pressing back in, the rhythm addicting and working to send you both over the edge.

Your bed moved against the wall as he put more power behind his pace, moaning and breathing into your mouth desperately as he lost himself completely in you, feeling your hand search for his where you laced your fingers together and held onto it tightly, his grip squeezing as he brought your linked hands up beside your head.

Will knew you were on the brink, able to read your body on instinct and almost better than his own, feeling your breathing change and the pitch of your whines switch, your free hand leaving marks on his back as your movements became erratic.

He felt you tense, every muscle in your body that was wrapped around his straining through your pleasure, your walls choking his cock as a surge of wet lubricated his strokes.

Will kissed you harder, absorbing your cries until your body relaxed under him, but he'd only allow you a short moment of reprieve.

He crawled down your body, a whiny moan sounding from you when he pulled out of you, your hands clawing for him to stay, but when his mouth landed on your soaked cunt your protest stopped, your hips bucking off the bed against his face as he worked to make you come again quickly.

“Are you sure you can't stay?” you whispered, tracing your fingers all over his sweaty face in a way that made him never want to move.

He sighed, closing his eyes and praying for the courage to give the answer he knew he needed to.

“I'm sure. I'm sorry.”

You looked crestfallen despite your best efforts not to, the side of your mouth turning upward as you nodded your head in understanding.

Will kissed your palm that rested beside his mouth, wanting more than anything to stay in bed with you, not even caring if he ever slept or not, but his nightmare kept nagging him and reminding him exactly why he couldn't.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” he explained, stepping out of bed and finding his boxers, leaving you in the mess of sheets to watch as he dressed.

It was so late already, making you question even more why he wouldn't just stay the rest of the night, feeling a sense of unease and confusion, and hoping you weren't reading into things too much.

“Get some sleep,” you wished, sitting up to meet him in a kiss when he came back over and leaned down, your hand slipping behind his neck where you felt him groan to your touch.

“Yeah, I will. You too,” he said quietly, knowing damn well he wouldn't. “I'll lock the door behind me.”

Both of you hesitated a moment, your eyes searching each other’s, your silence screaming the words neither of you dared to.

With a weak smile, Will turned and walked out, and everything in you felt so anxious that something between you was changing, and you couldn't determine if it was for better or worse.

The rest of the week played out the same; Will coming over to your place each evening to have dinner and spend time with you, only to make himself scarce as soon as turning in for the night was being considered.

He caught you staring a few times, watching him finish the dishes or studying his expression as you watched tv together, trying to work out what was going on in his head.

He did everything he could to act as normal as possible, but could feel himself slowly pulling away, distancing himself like he was gradually building up to the inevitable.

All of that seemed to fade the moment his body made contact with yours.

His hands would grip you tighter, each kiss more intense and passionate than the last, the time spent with his arms wrapped around you in a hug growing longer with each one, savouring your presence and everything good that you gave him.

He almost wished you would just ask, call out what you seemed to know he was doing, his guilt growing the same his love for you was, but the pain he felt in his heart at knowing he was hurting you, and was going to hurt you even more, was outshining both easily.

Six hours and forty-seven minutes. That was the total amount of sleep he'd had in the last three days, finding himself growing more irritable and angry on top of being exhausted.

He sighed when he came in the door, noticing the tv on and blaring, Benny still awake and watching a fight.

The last thing he wanted was an interrogation from his brother, and he prayed as he slipped out of his boots and put his keys in their spot that one wouldn't come tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Benny’s head whip around, and as he walked into the kitchen, he waited for the comments to come.

“Do you keep fucking and bailing? Because it really seems like you keep fucking and bailing.”

Will took a deep breath and ignored him.

“Nice,” Benny added, sarcastically.

Will opened the fridge to get a glass of water, glaring at him over the door with warning, which only encouraged Benny more.

He always had a habit of testing Will, seeing how far he could push him until he snapped, and while Will wasn't sure if that was what he was doing now, it was definitely getting on his nerves.

“Getting your fill and then leaving her hanging. You must really love her,” he drawled, staring at the tv as Will walked into the room.

“Fuck off, Ben. You know why I'm not sleeping there,” Will huffed, plopping himself on the chair opposite the couch.

“I told you it isn't going to happen for real. It was a dream, man. I know you-”

“You don't know shit!” Will barked, cutting him off.

He stood and stormed to his room, hating how his brother could be so good and understanding one minute and then go totally against him the next, but mostly hating how he knew he was right.

Coffee was barely enough to keep him functioning at this point, and after another sleepless night, Will wondered just how much more of this he could take, especially with his deployment date looming and getting closer and closer.

He counted the tablespoons of grounds he scooped out of the container and into the coffee maker, hoping a stronger brew would help him drag his feet less but worried it would only do the job of amping up his anxiety.

For the brief moments he had slept, that same nightmare kept recurring, seeing your lifeless face in his hands until he jolted awake, gasping for breath and covered in sweat.

He knew should tell you about the nightmare and that he was leaving, but his selfishness was getting the better of him, feeling as if the moment he said it out loud that his whole world would actually fall out from under him, and the thought terrified him.

Benny came into the kitchen, his arms stretched above his head with a long exaggerated yawn, and even though Will told himself he wasn't trying to, it was like he was rubbing it in his face that he’d slept so well.

As Will went to grab a mug from the cupboard, Benny brushed by him, reaching around his brother to get his own, nudging Will in the process.

Will sighed, but ignored his irritation, opening the next cupboard over to put the coffee away where Benny stuck his hand in to get the sugar.

“Don’t fucking start,” Will warned under his breath.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Benny gave him a look, smoothing his hair back and out of his face as he grabbed the bag of bread and took out a couple of slices.

“No, but I know what you’re doing.”

Benny didn’t respond, and Will knew he was carefully choosing what he would say when he did speak next, seeing a tension in his back as he went about his business.

“You’re gonna have to tell her at some point, Will,” he said quietly, not looking at him.

Will swallowed thickly, feeling every muscle in his body tense up while choosing to bite his tongue.

Benny shoved him with his shoulder as he sidled up next to him, grabbing the pot of coffee before Will was able to.

“Can you stop?” Will barked, holding his empty mug up in disbelief.

Benny glared at Will as he put the pot back down, almost as if he was daring Will to make a move.

“Fuck you.”

“Really?”

“You’re acting like a dick and you know it,” Benny accused, not moving from where he stood.

Will took a step back, hanging his head. “I don’t need this shit right now.”

“No?” Benny asked excitedly. “Stop being such an ungrateful piece of shit. You treat everyone like shit, like you’re owed everything because you’re hurt.”

Will shook his head, feeling anger rise up through him, but Benny just kept going.

“You landed yourself the best girl and look what you’re doing with that. You don’t think she deserves to know you’re fucking leaving in eight days?”

Benny’s voice continued to rise as he went on, making Will’s teeth clench harder and his grip on the countertop get tighter as he leaned forward against it.

“Now you’re just pissed off because you know you’re fucking everything up. How the hell are you gonna go over there and focus when you’re turning into a complete fucking mess here?”

Will stayed quiet, hanging his head and unable to look his brother in the eye, knowing everything he was saying was true.

Benny watched him for a minute, waiting, and gave his final say before walking out of the kitchen.

“Get your shit together, man. Or something bad might really happen.”

More and more days passed between seeing each other, and by now Will imagined you had gotten the hint, having stopped initiating conversations due to how cold and short he was being with you, knowing you were doing your best to give him space in hopes that would fix everything.

Texts were rare and visits were brief, and Will could see and feel the worry radiating off of you when he was with you, your uncertainty if you were the problem blatant.

Two days remained until he deployed, and with his bag packed and everything else in order, he reached for his phone.

Can we talk?

You gave him a smile when you opened the door to let him in, but the rest of your face said it all, your eyes bleary and barely able to hold contact with his, your body language nervous as you rubbed your arm up and down even though it was brutally hot and humid.

“Can I get you anything?” you offered, the question feeling too formal but suiting the atmosphere, neither of you reaching for the other for a hug and kiss like you used to.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t going to be a fun conversation, so I’d like you to spare me even more grief then you’ve already caused, Will.”

Your words came out quickly, like if you didn’t rush to say them you wouldn’t get them out, and your voice shook, making Will’s heart break even more than it was.

He sighed and nodded, raising his eyebrows on his forehead.

“I think we should stop before we get too far ahead of ourselves here.”

“What does that mean?” you scoffed, your frustration and confusion clear as day.

“What do you think it means?” he said pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you bluntly.

You nodded your head as you looked up at the ceiling, blinking quickly to fight off the tears he knew you were struggling to keep back.

“I thought this was what you wanted,” you explained. “Why didn’t you say if it was too much or too fast?”

“I’m sorry,” he said flatly, looking at your face contort with even more hurt and confusion.

“You’re sorry?” you blurted. “You’ve spent the last however many weeks stringing me along and acting like everything was fine until all of a sudden it wasn’t and then you fucking ghost me? And all you have to say is you’re sorry?”

“Why is that so hard to understand?” he spat, the chill of his words surprising himself.

He watched your expression shift, your anger switching to a gut-wrenching hurt he knew too well, your pain washing over you in a rippling effect after his words slapped you across the face.

“Because I’m falling in love with you!”

He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, knowing all along that you were but hearing it hit him so much harder, and in the act of self-preservation, he continued his facade of not loving you in return.

“Yeah? Well stop, because you’re only gonna end up hurt.”

“Wha-” you started, but he cut you off before you were able to start asking questions.

“I’m deploying in two days.”

Your mouth opened and closed, and he knew the feeling of not being able to properly take the breath you so desperately needed, the shock on your face forcing Will to look away and down at his boots, too cowardly to face what he caused.

“I can’t go do this mission with any distractions,” he explained, his tone flat and expressionless.

“Is that all I am to you? Do you not think I care or wouldn’t offer support…I can't just put how I feel about you on hold or dismiss it completely, Will. Us breaking this off isn't going to make a difference in me worrying about you or erase what we have.”

Will shrugged, not knowing what else to say and feeling like he was out of lies to spew, and at this point nothing he said would make any of it better or worse.

You shook your head quickly and grunted frustratedly, wiping the tears that finally fell off your cheeks.

"I don't know why I'm crying,” you laughed, looking at him defeatedly. “You're not mine to cry over."

Will couldn’t bring himself to look at you again as he made his way over to the door, knowing damn well that he was yours as much as you were his, his entire heart left behind with you as he walked out.

After crying more tears than you thought you ever had, you peeled yourself out of bed and dragged your sorry ass to the gym, needing to distract your mind and do something good for your body, even if it meant risking seeing one or both of the Miller brothers there.

Your reflection was like a stranger, a hollowed-out version of yourself with puffy, blood-shot eyes lifting the dumbbells in your hands up and down as you worked through a set of bicep curls.

You were barely able to count through your reps, thinking how ironic it was that that was how you and Will met in the first place, but you knew the exact amount of hours it had been since he came and broke things off with you, and how long it was until he’d be on a plane flying out to wherever hell he was going.

You did a double-take in the mirror when you saw Benny come out of the change room, spinning around to see him better, the large black and blue bruise swelling around his left eye making your mouth hang open. A cut on his lower lip looked like it was still bleeding, and you thought it all to be strange when you recalled Will telling you he didn’t have any more fights until the fall.

The sympathetic smile he gave you was a reminder of all the things you knew you would be missing out on, but you shoved those feelings aside and walked over to him, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“What the hell happened to you? I thought you weren’t fighting for a while?”

Benny huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “You should see the other guy…”

That drew your attention to his hands, seeing the skin on his knuckles broken and red, knowing whoever was on the receiving end of it was likely in far worse shape than him.

Before anything else could be explained, you followed Benny’s gaze as he looked up, your heart stuck in your throat as you watched Will walk in the front door, his face even more beat up than Benny’s was.

You looked at Benny where he just shrugged, knowing you had put two and two together.

“He deserved it,” he said flatly, clearly not proud of it. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into him. I’m sorry for what he did to you.”

You nodded and bit your lip, looking down at the floor because you knew if you met Benny’s kind, blue eyes, you would crack again.

You sighed, praying your voice didn’t break when you spoke. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

Benny nodded convincingly, the faith he had in his older brother never faltering despite whatever was happening. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

You nodded, feeling the lump in your throat return.

“Are you gonna be alright?” he asked, making you nod faster and look anywhere but at him, the tears coming on fast as all the equipment surrounding you began to blur in your vision.

“I’m sorry he’s such a dipshit.”

You laughed through your tears, and Benny did too, his broad smile making you feel a little better.

“It’s just crazy,” you started, finding your courage to speak. “I don’t even hate him for what he did. I just want him to be happy and be safe.”

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. “That’s what happens when you love someone.”

It was silent in the truck on the way over.

Benny hadn’t even turned on the radio which was unusual, leaving Will with nothing to listen to other than his thoughts and the sound of his pulse, counting each heartbeat until his brother pulled onto the tarmac and parked.

“You sure you're gonna be okay over there?” he asked, and Will could feel his eyes fixed on him.

Puffing out his cheeks, he breathed, “I think so. Kinda have to be.”

Will looked out the window, seeing all the families saying goodbye to his fellow troops, his heart aching in his chest as his mind went to you.

He blinked and then turned toward Benny, shaking his head and laughing, seeing how bad Benny’s beat up face was and knowing he looked ten times worse.

“We look like idiots.”

Benny ripped down the visor to look at his face in the mirror, offended Will would say such a thing.

“I look like this pretty much all the time. Are you saying I always look like an idiot?”

“I'll leave that up to you.”

Their chuckles faded out, leaving them to sit in silence for a couple of minutes, Benny studying Will carefully for any tell that he wasn’t stable enough to get on that aircraft.

He saw his brother’s chest rising and falling sharply, the pulse in his neck thumping wildly, the muscles in his cheeks flinching as he tried to control his emotions.

“Everything will be fine, man.” Benny assured him, referring to both things with you and his mission.

Will nodded and finally found the courage to look over at him, his eyes wet.

“Keep an eye on her for me?” he choked out, trying to swallow the broken sob that followed his words.

“I will.”

Benny clapped his shoulder and shook it, his eyes welling up too, knowing he would never get used to these goodbyes regardless of how many times they happened, seeing his big brother go off to war something he hated more and more over the years.

Will leaned over and pulled him into a hug, squeezing his back so tight while feeling himself start to crumble as Benny reciprocated it with equal force.

“I love you, man,” Benny mumbled against his brother’s shoulder.

“I love you, too, Ben.”

Benny knew there was no point in punishing him anymore, it was punishment enough with his own guilt and having to go do what he was, and losing you on top of it was about all Will could handle.

He’d have his brother’s back no matter what, even if he didn’t agree with some of the things he’d done, and knew Will would do the exact same for him if it was the other way around.

Benny had never seen Will so happy as when he was with you, and promised to himself that he would do everything in his power to help get you two back together, refusing to let him give up on what he knew was the real deal.

The brothers parted, Benny squeezing the back of Will’s neck as Will pulled the handle to open the door.

“Go get ‘em and get on home.”

---

Part 7

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

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@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[ive-been-timebombed]

PART THREE

💥Danny the avoider💥 and ✨Jason the Daddy issues✨

Jason decidedly hated Wickham. Both in the story and the blue dumbass. He had barely caught Dick when he decided to take an early leave and the damn floating asshat is just watching him like he was a the best thing he had seen in fucking years.

He needed to get Big Bird to the cave to check out whatever the fuck is happening to him. He needed to deal with the being and he didn’t know where to start. He can’t just shoot this problem and leave the problem could kill him with a snap of its fingers.. are they even fingers? The damn claws on it said otherwise..

“God damn it- The fuck are you even supposed to be?” Jason glared at the being pulled his brother up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Ghost, like you.?” The being spoke it looked awkward and it was picking at its nails similar to a kid.

“Like me? The fuck you know about me. I ain’t know you and you don’t know me. Actually let’s keep it that way. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-“ Jason adjusted his helmet onto his head and looked around for his guns and the Dickheads sticks. Ignoring that panicking face of the being.

______

“God damn it- The fuck are you even supposed to be?” His son- his baby.. he can’t believe that his baby is right in front of him.. the very same one that he held all night when they wouldn’t stop crying.. the very same one that had explosive poops almost every night. Okay he didn’t miss that part. Or the other.. but he missed when he could look at his baby in the bed sleeping as laugh at the small snores that reminded him of his father’s. Or even the smile the kid had whenever he got back from work and picked him up from the neighbors.. oh god.. he really fucked up.. he gave his child away because of how selfish he was.

Back on track- wait did his kid not know he was a ghost? Actually he couldn’t judge. He didn’t either.. kinda really just thought he gained meta powers and not died.

“Ghost, like you.?” Danny said to his kid he felt so damn awkward.. he knew he should be more confident- being the king god thing of basically all does that to one. Take Pariah Dark for example. He was ugly yet still had the confidence to speak like he was the toughest guy around. Good reasons too, at the time he was the toughest guy around. Ghost? Guy? Same thing. No it’s not..

“Like me? The fuck you know about me. I ain’t know you and you don’t know me. Actually let’s keep it that way. Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-“ His kid truly hadn’t had a clue what he- wait. No, no, no he can’t lose his kid again. He already lost the rest of his friends and family he can’t lose his kid. Sure he had the ghosts and Ellie but this was his kid! The same kid that he held for three hours straight the night before he had to give his child away. He couldn’t let go again he couldn’t- wouldn’t. He knows where he is now- his core! He almost forgot! He needs to do something about that-

“No!” Danny yelled a bit louder than he wanted. His kid looked over at him his face was covered by the helmet thing. Why was his kid wearing that? “I mean- Your core it’s malnourished. You stay like that any longer you’ll- uh.. I don’t know I didn’t pay that much attention to Frostbite. But you need help-“

“My core? That fuck is a core, also back the fuck up.” His baby- grown up baby.. he didn’t see his baby grow up- held up the gun he had found on the ground pointing it at Danny,

“Oh- sorry” Danny floated back a bit he didn’t even notice that he got closer, “Your core, it’s basically your soul, mind, and organ in a tiny ball. It’s malnourished because- your parent was horrible and didn’t get you your ectoplasm!”

Danny was a horrible parent wasn’t he? He horrible, horrendous, good for nothing parent. Oh.. he shouldn’t ruin his baby’s unlife anymore than he did. He should just fix his core make sure he is okay and leave. Is it getting hard to breathe or is that just him..? He could feel his core crying out to his baby’s core.. he couldn’t leave him again. He couldn’t but he had to. His baby had a life that wasn’t with him. He needed to respect that.. the lump in his throat didn’t go away.. in fact only got worse at the thought.

_________

“No!” The being yelled. It scared Jason. It was like his insides, his brain.. the pits wanted to go up to the being and hug it. Like it could fix all his problems with just a hug and a few words.. like he felt when he got those faint memories of his bio dad. He was told he was adopted or given away by his bio dad to his mom. His Ma explained that his dad, better than the Willis, His dad had wanted nothing more than to keep him. But he was in big trouble and made the decision to give him away for his safety. Lot of good that did. Sometimes he wondered what his life would be like if his dad didn’t give him away. Would he be happier? Would he have different siblings? Would he be in college and become a lit major? Or even an author? Would he have died..? Would his dad avenge him unlike Bruce.? Is his dad even alive..?

“I mean- Your core it’s malnourished. You stay like that any longer you’ll- uh.. I don’t know I didn’t pay that much attention to Frostbite. But you need help-“ The being continued, who the hell was Frostbite? Jason didn’t care enough to ask. He needed to not be near the thing that made him think so clearly.

“My core? That fuck is a core, also back the fuck up.” Jason almost relaxed his body with how close the being got. He needed to not be here. At all. Away.

“Oh- sorry” The being floated back even apologized, “Your core, it’s basically your soul, mind, and organ in a tiny ball. It’s malnourished because- your parent was horrible and didn’t get you your ectoplasm!”

“My parents were fucking awesome! My Ma was the best mother I could’ve asked for- Sure my adoptive dad was shitty as hell. But my Ma told me even my bio dad loved me like a life line. That he gave me up for my safety! Fuck even the only damn picture I had of my father he looked at baby me like a was the best thing in the world!” Jason snapped he knew he didn’t turn out like Dick or even fucking replacement, the picture perfect son but he knew his Ma and Dad loved him like they were supposed to. The only picture he had of his Dad was destroyed in the explosion. The picture was of his Dad, the somewhat skimpy black haired with white at the nape man, the blue eyed the was cold but looked at him with warmth, the man that had a scar on his lip and inhuman sharp teeth man holding a two or three year old Jason who was sleeping in his fathers lap. He loved that picture like it was the last bit of air on earth. He reminded him that he had someone out there that loved him out of the streets, when he was fighting with Bruce, when he was an idiot and got himself killed.. fuck.. he even tried to yell for him when he was laying on the cold concrete covered in his own blood after the Joker left him.

The being looked at him with wide eyes, it tilted his head and his mouth open a bit like he was gonna say something. That’s when Jason noticed it. The scar on the beings lip. The exact same scar that he used to look for on every man in Gotham when he was younger. The same scar that he looked at for years in the picture of his father. The same scar he wanted to give himself just to have something to remember him.

“Wait-“ Jason started his voice cracked, like a fucking teenager. Then the fucking man himself, Batman, broke through the window making Jason look at him then back over at the being in a panic only to see nothing but an empty room. Not even the summoning circle was there. The only evidence left was Wickham..

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫

Parings → Dad! Peter Parker x Mom! Reader

Warnings → fluff

Summary → Peter begs for a daughter, you can't say no to those puppy eyes.

A/N: Alternative Version 𝐀 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

(gif not mine)

The house was finally quiet, the rare kind of quiet that only happened after the kids were asleep. You and Peter sat on the couch, tangled up in each other, savoring the few moments of peace. It had been a long day of chasing your two-year-old son, Tony, and helping your five-year-old, Ben, navigate his superhero obsessions—both boys exhausting in their own unique ways.

Peter’s arm was draped around your shoulders, his thumb lazily tracing circles on your arm as you leaned into him. “You tired?” He asked, though the smirk on his face suggested he already knew the answer.

You scoffed softly. “Of course I’m tired. I spend all day keeping your little Spiderlings in check.”

Peter chuckled. “Our Spiderlings,” he corrected, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “And they’re perfect. Just like their mom.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, enjoying the comfort of his presence. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Parker.”

He hummed in response, pulling you closer, and for a few blissful moments, the two of you just existed in the quiet together.

But Peter’s mind was always going, always thinking. And lately, he’d been dropping subtle—and not-so-subtle—hints. Tonight, though, he wasn’t going to be subtle at all.

“Y/n,” he started, his voice playful but with a familiar tone that made you look up at him warily. “What do you think about... maybe... having another baby?”

You groaned, turning your face into his chest to avoid meeting his eager gaze. “Peter, we already have two! Tony still wakes up in the middle of the night, and Ben keeps trying to climb the walls—literally.”

He chuckled again but wasn’t deterred. “I know, I know. But... just think about it for a second. A little girl. Our little girl.”

You lifted your head, giving him a raised brow. “A girl?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, his eyes shining with excitement now. “A mini-you. I’ve always wanted a daughter.”

You stared at him, the hopeful, puppy-dog look on his face making your heart soften, even though you weren’t entirely convinced. “You’ve always wanted a daughter?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Come on, babe , think about it! She’d be perfect. I’d get to teach her how to swing, she’d have the best big brothers, and she’d be the toughest little girl around.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a more tender tone. “She’d be just like you.”

You felt your resolve start to crumble at his words, but you weren’t ready to give in just yet. “Peter, having another baby isn’t like getting a puppy. We already have our hands full with Ben and Tony.”

“I know,” Peter said softly, his hand gently cupping your cheek now, tilting your face up toward his. “But I also know we’d be amazing parents to another one. And I can already see it, babe. A little girl, with your eyes and your smile...”

Your heart melted a little more at the thought. Peter had always been incredible with Ben and Tony—attentive, loving, and so patient, even on the hardest days. The idea of seeing him with a daughter was enough to make you reconsider, but you still had your hesitations.

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” You asked, watching his expression closely.

He nodded again, this time a bit more earnestly. “Yeah, I really am. I want this, babe. I mean, look at us—we’ve already made two amazing little boys. A little girl would complete our family.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. It was hard to argue when Peter was this earnest, this loving. You knew he wasn’t wrong. Ben and Tony were incredible, and even though the thought of adding a third child to the mix seemed daunting, there was a small part of you that couldn’t deny how sweet the idea was.

Peter saw the softening in your eyes and pressed his advantage. “I can already picture her, baby,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “A little girl with her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger.”

You laughed softly, unable to resist his charm. “She’d have you doing all her chores, wouldn’t she?”

He grinned, nodding. “Absolutely. She’d be spoiled rotten by her big brothers, too. Ben would make sure she had the coolest toys, and Tony—well, he’d be her little bodyguard.”

You smiled, thinking about the dynamic between your kids if there was a baby girl in the house. Ben was already protective over Tony, and Tony, despite his age, idolized his big brother. Adding a sister into the mix might just be the sweetest thing ever.

“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” You asked, playfully narrowing your eyes at Peter.

He shook his head, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “Not a chance.”

You let out a long breath, feeling the weight of his desire, and finally, you couldn’t resist any longer. “Okay,” you said softly, watching as Peter’s eyes widened in excitement. “We can try for a girl.”

Peter’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?”

You nodded, laughing as his enthusiasm bubbled over. “Yes, really. But no promises! We might end up with another boy, you know.”

Peter pulled you into his arms, peppering your face with kisses. “I don’t care if we end up with five boys. I just know I want more kids with you.”

You giggled, pushing him away lightly but unable to stop smiling. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. One more. That’s it. I'm done after that.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement and love. “Deal.”

Later that night, as you lay curled up beside him in bed, Peter’s arm wrapped protectively around you, you felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves. The thought of expanding your family again was overwhelming, but with Peter by your side, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As you drifted off to sleep, Peter pressed a kiss to your shoulder, whispering softly into the quiet of the night.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[halohalona]

Letting Go

Old memories resurface so Logan reminds you who is truly there for you.

Logan Howlett x Reader

a/n: the fics I'm starting to write are getting more and more self indulgent and the situations are getting hyper-specific. Not only do I want to be with Logan, on so many different levels, he's also become such a comfort character to me (or maybe it's just hugh jackman idk). ANYWAY, this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now so enjoy the short fic

masterlist

warnings/tags: more emotional hurt/comfort, Logan is probably a little or a lot ooc here, I wanna specify this is the movie logan and not the comics, betrayal? idk, I probably forgot a few details about Wolverine here

Logan noticed you've been quiet recently. Not only that but you've been avoiding him. One time when you rounded a corner of the mansion's many hallways you immediately turned back the way you came when you saw him. Did he do something wrong? Every time he tried to talk to you, you would run away.

He asked Ororo if she knew what was going on but she didn't know either. He asked Jean but she didn't know anything either, but he did find out that you've been avoiding everyone. Scott, Ororo, Jean, Hank— not just him. It even came to the point where he asked the professor himself and all he said was, “She needs her space.”

He was at the library looking for a specific textbook he needed for his next class when he heard sniffling from a secluded corner of the library— your corner. You told him once that you've pretty much claimed that part of the library for yourself since it was secluded and quiet enough that no one would bother you as you worked.

He slowly and quietly walked over. Sure enough you were there. Your laptop was in front of you, folders neatly stacked around you on the table, and your bag placed on the side facing the main library, likely to hide your face.

He sat in front of you, gently moving the folders to the side before speaking.

“Hey.” he said softly.

You jumped and quickly wiped your face but your head was still down. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you crying, of course I'm gonna go check on you. You've been avoiding me all week. Something's going on, and as your boyfriend I want to know.”

You don't say anything.

“Is this about Eve?”

Silence.

He leans back on the chair crossing his arms. “You know that was years ago right?”

Eve was a close friend of yours. You both have been friends for almost two years back in high school. She was someone who stood by you through your toughest times, and at the time there was a lot, specially since that was same point in your life your mutation decided manifest. But then you guess they got sick and tired of having to deal with what you were going through with you because one day you learned from your best friend, who was a mutual friend of yours, that she planned on cutting you off. You don't remember exactly what she said but one thing was clear to you, she no longer wanted any relationship with you, not even an acquaintance. What stuck with you was the promise she made a year prior: “If you think I'm gonna leave you, I won't,” which ended up being a lie.

It's been years, you know that it's time to move on, but every now and then it haunts you. You've been keeping people at arms length since then, not sharing much about yourself aside from the basics: name, age, and what you like to do in your free time. Although you've opened up a bit when you started dating Logan, you've share a few things about Eve, but you still hold back in fear of the whole thing to happen again.

“You have to let it go. I'm not saying this to be dismissive, I'm saying it because holding on to it will prevent you from finding people who actually care for you.” he unfolds his arms and leans on the table closer to you. “Like I've said before, if she was able to let you go so easily, then maybe she wasn't a good friend to begin with.”

He walks over to your side of the table and kneels beside you. Gently, he places his hand on the side of your face lifting it up to make you look at him.

“I know it hurts to be abandoned by someone you cared for deeply, but dwelling on what happened won't bring them back. It's time for you to focus on the people who genuinely care about you. Ororo, Jean, Hank, Scott, pretty much everyone in the mansion, and of course me.”

Your eyes start to well up again, a couple tears escape, sliding down your cheek. Logan gently brushes them away.

“I know she's told you this but when I say I won't leave you, no matter how hard things get, I mean it. I love you and I care for you, remember that.”

You look into his eyes for any sign of deceit and seeing none, he genuinely means it. So for the first time in years, you trust those words. You lean your forehead on his “I believe you. And thank you.” you whisper.

[everparanoid]

Make me lose my breath, make me water ┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , NSFW

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: Cunnilingus, consent is hot, Reader is from Natlan, cuffs used inappropriately, Body Worship, My First Smut, Fontaine is France but it's not but it is, PWF, PWP, Mutual Pining, No use of y/n, Reader is Not Traveler (Genshin Impact), Creampie, biting kink, Written After 4.1 Update, Minor spoilers for 4.0 quest, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Light Bondage, light orgasm denial

wordcount: 6.1k

synopsis: The notorious Duke of the fortress of Meropide hasn't been on his A-game lately, and it shows.

Originally posted: 25.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: 'Water' by Tyla.

Three quick knocks rattled the door to his large office. The sound echoed up to the second floor where his desk resided.

“Come in,” Wriothesley said not looking up from his papers.

Wriothesley was a busy man. Well, being the Duke of the self-running, man-powered Fortress of Meropide wasn’t an easy job. It wasn’t exhausting either, but that was beside the point.

He took a slow prolonged sip from his teacup. The second sip in the last hour; the flavoured water had long since cooled from the general chill in the office. Not that he could feel anything beyond the normal chill of the underwater Fortress; and with the added benefit of his cryo vision he considered himself well-suited for the climate. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss the sun. Although, he could see the sun whenever he found a reason to leave the fortress, which he often didn’t.

He sighed for the fifth time that hour.

“I hear you’ve been doing that a lot,” You said ascending the spiralled staircase.

He paused and lowered his teacup, placing it on the small pile of report papers he was using as a mat. One side of his lips raised threatening to become a half smile. He quickly wiped it away.

“Oh? Have I now?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, your voice smooth and confident. “I think I’m going to have to report you to Sigewinne.”

“Am I to assume she isn’t the one who sent you?”

His eyes met yours as you arrived atop the stairs, a hand on your hip and that sassy look in your eyes that he had grown fond of. He realised now why he had been so distracted.

He missed you.

You often frequented the fortress. First as a commissioned messenger between Wriothesley and Neuvillette, then a ‘convict’, and after that a friend and now… he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to complain about the company. It was nice having someone as into tea as he was. Not that he would admit it, but it got lonely in the Fortress sometimes. More so since he met you.

“What? You afraid of a couple of stickers?”

“You know about that?” he grumbled, glancing at the pile of crumpled Melusine stickers littering the side of his desk, freshly pulled off the back of his coat.

“I have ears everywhere, Your Grace,” you smirk, withholding the crucial fact that you were the culprit providing the stickers for Sigewinne and her Melusine friends. They paid you back in giggles and smiles, and just the joy on their small faces was enough for you.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You probably know more about what’s happening in my humble home than me,” he said. Only a half lie on his part. You had an aptitude for making tough things bend to your will. Him being the toughest of things in question. He dismissed the thought of you flashing that blinding smile at anyone other than him.

Your shoulders rose and fell as a melodic laugh left your lips and graced his ears. If he could keep your voice in a bottle, he would.

You shook your head and pushed off the railing. His attention remained on you as you took a seat on the settee a bit away from his desk.  His throat—as if he hadn’t just taken a sip of his cold tea— felt overwhelmingly dry. He cleared it gently and picked up his teacup.

“How’s the Traveler and Paimon?” he asked, taking a sip.

The flavoured water was colder. He needed to calm down lest he froze the entire thing. He imagined you would be the only one to find amusement in him sipping ice.

You crossed your legs, and your skirt rode up. He looked away respectfully, much to his dismay and the favour of his quickly deteriorating will. He didn’t remember when it happened. When he started seeing you as more than just the middle woman between Neuvillette and himself; more than just a pawn in this game against the fatui, but now he found himself knowing the way your cheek dimpled slightly only on your right cheek when you laugh; how the skin around your eyes crow when you yawn or squint; how you change to fix your posture every thirty minutes when you’re lost in a book, and your neck starts to get sore, and your lower back begs to be stretched out. He pulled himself out of his thoughts before they had a chance to spiral further.

“They send their regards and a thank you for your help with ‘the situation,’” you said making air quotes. You didn’t mention how you didn’t plan to return to them for a while, but some things were best left unsaid with Wriothesley.  

Wriothesley nodded and gestured for you to join him in for some tea.

“If you have some time, of course,” he finished.

“Of course, If you are offering,” you responded. 

You went to stand but Wriothesley beat you to it. Thankful for the excuse to busy himself with something other than your smouldering presence. If he was an icy avalanche, then you were like a raging inferno, melting him into warm water. Perhaps it had something to do with the pyro vision dangling from your hip. He glanced at the vision and caught a glimpse of your bare legs. He froze, curious about what colour you might be wearing underneath your skirt: black, white, blue, red? Instead, he was beyond relieved when he saw black shorts. He breathed a sigh. That’s so you.

“I can heat the pot, you know?” you say, growing increasingly more tired of his strange mood and equally as obscure silence. Never had Wriothesley sighed so much. Honestly, you never would have considered him a sigher; more a hmpher or a quiet snickering type.

You and everyone in Fontaine who had the pleasure or misfortune—mostly the misfortune—of knowing the Duke, knew that recently he had been off. In truth, your visit hadn’t been to express Neuvillette’s message (though that made a great cover). No, you were there because of a chain of strange letters from Sigewinne, given to you by an equally as annoyed Clorinde, telling you of the Duke’s bizarre behaviour. According to these letters, he was more attentive than usual. He had appeared around the fortress checking in on the production zones and the inmates an alarming number of four times in the last month, nearly causing several heart attacks amongst the inmates, which as a result caused Sigewinne to be on high alert from all the overworking; he hasn’t been partaking in as many fights in the ring, and he hasn’t been drinking as much tea.

It was the last two on the list that shocked you the most and was most of the reason why you were there now. Wriothesley not drinking tea? Was Fontaine’s archon a fraud?

Uncrossing your legs, you stood and approached him. Placing a hand on the teapot, you heated the water with your vision.

“Let me do that," you said.

You sounded more breathless than you had intended to, but being so close to him does that to you. He always managed to take your breath away, but you had stupidly thought that with time those senseless reactions would die upon learning more about the mysterious brutish duke. The way all crushes faded when the mystic i.e., the lack of information and the delusions of projection, disappeared. Instead, it seemed to have only worsened. A butterfly somersaulted in your stomach when you accidentally brushed your hand against his.

Wriothesley stiffened. The touch went straight to his gut.

“Why are you here?” he responded smoothly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Not that he was concerned about why you were here—he couldn’t be happier—but you were supposed to be away for the next six months on a quest with the traveler to your home region, Natlan. Had Sigewinne called you back out of concern for him? He had to be more careful around the small nurse in the future.

“Your tea collection isn’t as depleted as usual,” you observed, staring into the box filled with other miniature boxes of tea, skilfully deflecting the question.

“An interrogation. You’re making me nervous,” he joked. “I am a busy man, I don’t always have time for tea.”

The look you fixed him with was not amused.

“You always drink at least three cups a day,” you said putting stress on the ‘at least.’ If it wasn’t tea, it would be a terrible addiction.

“Wow, you’re counting? I’m impressed.”

“Which flavour do you want?”  you said, ignoring him.

“The special blend.”

Without a second thought, you plopped the tea bag into the teapot and left it to brew.

It was your favourite, and that is why he chose it. He was more of a black tea or green tea kind of person, but the special blend he had made specifically for you. You didn’t know that though; you didn’t have to, he enjoyed hearing your quiet hums of happiness with each sip. It was great fodder for his late-night thoughts.

His heart warmed, as the skin around your eyes crowed the way he loved. Loved? He cleared his throat.

“You aren’t booking yourself as many fights. Which I would be happy about if I thought it didn’t directly correlate to why you’re acting so strange,” you lectured, and to him, you sounded like a particular short blue-haired Melusine.

“I can’t help but feel that you are worried about me,” he jested.

“As anyone would be about a friend,” you said.

Friend? Yes, that was what you were. Friends.

“Friends. Yes,” he agreed albeit stiffly.

You gave him a cautious side-eye unsure as to why his tone hurt you.

The word left a bitter taste in Wriothesley’s mouth and when you offered to fill his cup again, he accepted. Suddenly needing the soothing numbing effects of his tea more than ever. You topped up his cup before you poured the heated water into the teacup that had unintentionally become yours.

 Wriothesley didn’t let anyone else use it. It was superstitious really, and he didn’t consider himself a superstitious person. However, he worried that if he let anyone else use it you suddenly won’t come back one day. Not that you would be able to tell the difference if he did let someone else use the cup; all the teacups he owned looked exactly alike, but yours was different. It was a cup with a little chip on the rim near the handle from when you decided to have your tea with Neuvillette, Clorinde, the traveler and himself after the recent troubles with the Fatui. Your cup had chipped due to the heat of your hand; he could recall the horror on your face when he informed you how much each cup cost after letting you ramble on about owing him another cup.

You eventually fell into a comfortable silence sitting together on the settee.

“Clorinde has been visiting you a lot recently,” you said from behind your teacup. You took another sip.

Wriothesley recalled his earlier meeting with the champion dualist.

“Yes, we had some tea.”

“Really?”

“Jealous?”

You turned away.

“There is no need to be, I assure you,” he said, feeling a deep sense of relief at the way you seemed so bothered by his meeting with your mutual friend. The same friend who had been lecturing him about his ‘mutual’ feelings for you. Perhaps it was because of your reaction, that he realised that Clorinde might have been right. Or he was delusional? Maybe it was both.

Wriothesley placed his mug down on the coffee table. His hand brushed your bare thigh and you both jolt.

“Who says I am jealous?” You snapped, your lip twitching.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because your lip twitches when you’re upset, and your pyro vision makes you heat the things around you without abandon. Your eyes lose that spark which makes them look like the spotlights guarding Meropide, and you refuse to look at me because you know I’ll see right through you. And I do. I see you.”

He took another sip from his tea, pretending to not notice your tea bubbling in your hand, and the crack growing on the side of the teacup.

“It’s not nice to make jokes like that, Your Grace,” you said nervously.

Your eyes darted about the office settling on anything but him. The bookshelves looked fuller than usual. Has he been reading more books?

“Indeed. It is not but come on you should know me better than that by now. I never joke about things like this,” he said. His voice was clear and sincere. “Is it so strange that I would want to give a few words of praise out of genuine adoration?”

Especially since he saw the way you’re reacting; he knew that it was real and not a fantasy from his misguided thoughts. He wouldn’t lose this opportunity to make his feelings clear. He was a straightforward guy, after all. When he knew what he wanted was within his reach he wouldn’t simply pass it up. It would be unjust. He wanted to watch you smile, to be the one that caused that smile; he wanted to be the first person you went to when something good happened in your life; he wanted to feel your skin and not just in passing touches; he wanted to let it scold him, to embrace the flames.

“Ah, it seems I have ruined the mood,” he said smoothly.

He stood.

You went to stand too, but when you did the boiling liquid in your teacup splashed your hand. You hissed and dropped it. The porcelain shattered against the metal ground; the liquid spilt everywhere.

Wriothesley sat back down on the settee and took your warm hand in his immediately not sparing a second to glance down at his soaked boots. They encased yours and worked to chill the burn; one of the many benefits of having a cryo vision. The two of you couldn't be any more different. Fire and ice co-exist? Impossible.  Unimaginable. Dangerous. The tenderness in which he held your hand sets your heart ablaze as if it wasn’t already. Had he been telling the truth? You knew the Duke better than most, and with that knowledge you know he wasn’t the type to lie about that, but did he mean it? Could he mean it?

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Wriothesley’s attention remained on the forming boil on your soft skin. He soothed it gently, trying not to give you frost-burn. Thankfully the natural heat of your skin stopped his cryo from hurting you further.

“For what?” he responded softly, bringing your hand up to his lips and breathing out cool frosty air. You felt like mush, and if it weren’t for the dull ache in your hand you would have snatched up the opportunity to run said hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. It always looked so soft and maybe he would allow you to touch it.

You pulled a face between flustered and self-loathing.

“That was one of your expensive teacups,” you managed to choke out.

He continued to blow cool air onto your hand.

“There will be other teacups,” he says, his lips barely an inch from your skin.

You wanted to melt on the spot.

“But—“

He sighed and said your name sternly looking up at you through the haze of dark lashes.

“Why would I worry about a teacup when you are hurt?” he asked and lowered your hand from his lips. “In any case, I should apologise for ruining a perfectly good meeting. If you have said all you need to say then—”

You waved your hands, flabbergasting him as you snatched them from his cool encasing, momentarily forgetting about the burn, and cutting him off mid-speech.

“No, you didn’t,” you yelped.

He half smiled at the scarlet tint of your ears, and taking your burnt hand back into his, he proceeded to gently apply cryo to the festering burn.

“Ah, is that so?” he chuckled. “Alright then, how will you pay me back?”

“Huh?”

“You broke my favourite teacup, after all. So—“ he said your name with a hint of mischief in his smooth voice. “How will you pay me back?”

“That’s not fair!” You straightened in your seat. “How can that be your favourite teacup when they all look the same? Are you just saying that to make me feel worse than I already do?”

He cocked a brow and tugged you forward. You fell into him, your free hand coming to rest on his lower abdominal. Your nose brushed his, and you felt his cool breath against your cheeks. His breathe smelt of spearmint. Your lips twitched and you tried to focus on the scar under his eye (the one you’ve always wanted to trace with the tips of your fingers) so as to not meet his icy blue stare, or to glance down at the obvious smirk on his lips. You wanted to kiss him; you could kiss him; would he let you kiss him?

Wriothesley watched your tongue dart out to swipe across your lips; he wanted to bite it; but he had more control than that. He had an image to uphold. The Duke was supposed to be fair and reasonable; he was supposed to lead by example and be a neutral figure of respect and reverence, not a brute without self-control. He pushed you back gently, hoping beyond hope that in your shock you haven’t noticed how hard he was.

“Kidding, of course,” he drawled.

Anger coloured your face and you punched his shoulder, half seriously. You hissed and shake your still very much wounded hand. You had been duelling partners for a while when you had spent a significant amount of time in the Fortress pretending to be a convict back when you were neither friend nor whatever you were now. He’d only agreed to it at the time because you managed to beat everyone and nearly him.

“You are breathtaking,” he muttered. “Come on let’s get you to Sigewinne.”

He stood and offered you his hand.

Your heart stuttered. Even though you weren’t native to Fontaine you were well-versed in their mother language, but even then, you didn’t believe your ears.

“What?” you asked.

He chuckled again, a deep and hearty sound.

“When will I stop doubting the ears of a seasoned traveler,” he said out loud although it was meant for his ears alone. He must have been mentioning your mutual friend, the blond traveler, and their small pixie pie companion, Paimon. You have been accompanying them on a few commissions and quests here and there, especially through Natlan. Which kept you away from Fontaine for significant periods of time, much to Wriothesley’s silent dismay.

However, he would never keep something so precious away from the light. He tried to keep a pet once—not that you were a pet—but he soon realised that it was wrong to keep something meant to be in the sun away from it. And if he couldn’t do it to a small animal then he definitely couldn’t do that to you. You were a traveller, not even native to Fontaine. Although you have made it clear countless amounts of times that Fontaine is your favourite region; he can’t help but feel like you weren’t meant to be chained to one place. He won’t be your administrator, the fortress won’t be your prison, and he couldn’t imagine keeping you in this cage with him. He refused to, even if his more selfish desires would have you cuffed to his desk where he could gaze upon you forever till you hated him and wished him gone.

“No, I want to talk first,” you said.

“I assure you we can talk after your hand has been seen too.”

“Wriothesley.”

Your tone went straight to his cock. You have never said his name, at least not his face. Even when you’re both around your mutual ‘friends’ you still have only ever called him ‘your grace.’ He wanted to hear you say his name again. He wanted to hear you say his name breathlessly, desperately, whilst you crumbled into each other. He cleared his throat and walked across his office hoping that the distance would stop you from noticing the obvious tent in trousers. He fiddled with the cuffs on his hips to distract himself and pulled at his tie.

“You really should go…to Sigewinne,” he said.

You approached him. He turned away from you facing a bookshelf. You brushed your fingertips to his forearm feeling the chilling aura around his skin. You expected him to pull away, for him to stop you from going past the point of no return, but he didn’t.

“Wriothesley,” you said his name again, this time with a wistful air. You don’t even realise you’re saying it. You never said it; not to him, only to the crisp cold darkness when your back arched on your sheets late into the night.

“Say it again,” he said.

“What?”

“My name. Say it again.”

Your eyes widened as you realised your mistake. You have always tried not to say his name to separate your lustful fantasies from the real man.

He faced you, capturing your gaze and with it your heart too in his glacial eyes that looked so warm. “Please.”

You couldn’t help but obey. His name slipped out in a hushed prayer: “Wriothesley.”

In turn, he said yours; just as quiet, just as wanting.

“You really should go to Sigewinne,” he said and ghosts his thumb along your jaw.

“What if I don’t want to?” you stepped closer. “What if I want to stay right here?”

His expression darkened.

“You shouldn’t,” he said with no bite behind it.

You didn’t budge.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, sounding way more desperate than you intended. Before you could cringe at yourself, he had you caged in his arms, mouth cold against yours. He groaned when you bit down on this bottom lip, and for the first time, you felt his thick erection brush against your stomach.

None of your wildest fantasies could compare to the reality of kissing Wriothesley and any pain in your hand disappeared altogether. He kissed you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth; like you were his last gulp of air before he dissolved into primordial water.

He tugged on your shirt.

“If you don’t take this thing off right now I’m going to rip it,” he said, his breath laboured.

You reached under your shirt, and he helped you slip it over your head. He threw it away and pulled you into another kiss. His hand wrapped in your hair.

You took off his tie and his waistcoat, his usual fur coat was already draped on the back of his large red chair. He stopped you unbuttoning his shirt, shaking his head, trailing kisses along your jaw, and down your neck as he walked you backwards to his desk. He unclasped your bra. He watched it slide down your arms and then tossed it somewhere that was going to be your future you’s problem.

“Up,” he ordered.

You jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He grasped the underside of your thighs and placed you down on the free space of his grand desk.

He bit your shoulder, and you moaned out his name in a way that had him almost feral. He lapped at the wound and kissed it. You threw your head back biting down on your lip. He continued leaving kisses and nibbles along your collarbone, slowly lowering until your breasts were under his hungry gaze. You suddenly felt nervous. You wouldn’t say you were insecure in your looks. You knew that your looks were something to behold and of which you were very proud. They’ve come in handy in your many jobs as many times as they have caused unnecessary issues but being under the watchful gaze of Wriothesley felt different… intimate. You tried to bring your hands up to cover yourself. Wriothesley caught your wrists, looking up at you from his crouched position.

“Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

“Wriothesley,” you said.

“If you aren’t comfortable, we can stop,” he assured you, although the words pained him and his dick, consent was king—always. If you weren’t comfortable, he could always sort himself out later. You were the most important thing to him. He let go of your wrists and you dropped them, letting him feast his eyes on your breasts.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

“If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop,” he said. “Give me a safe word.”

“Cake,” you instantly responded.

“Cake?” He cocked a brow. “Cake, it is.”

Without a moment spared, he grasped your breasts and planted a kiss there, dragging his lips over your nipples in a way that made you shiver. He smiled to himself at the occasional whimpers that left you; even more pleased that he was the one causing them.

“I love the noises you make. I love your voice. I’m obsessed with it. I wish to capture it and listen to it whenever you’re away,” he groaned.

He dragged his tongue down, further, and further until he was on his knees, he pushed up your skirt that had been bothering him since you crossed your gorgeous legs earlier. He was tempted to have you keep it on when he fucked you, for no other reason than the thought that the next time you decided to wear that poor excuse of a skirt he knew all you would be able to think about was how he messed you up in it. The thought brought him immense pleasure.

 He slid his hands into your shorts, squeezing your thighs. The flimsy piece of black material and whatever surprise underwear beneath it were the only things keeping him from what he wanted. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to feel how you’ll curl on his tongue; he wanted to feel you gripping his hair and screaming his name as he brought you to a high only he could give you.

“These damn shorts,” he grumbled.

“I climb mountains. How else am I going to keep myself comfortable?” you asked.

He tutted and tore them open; the fabric did not put up much of a fight at all.

“I guess you won’t be climbing mountains anytime soon,” he said guiding the torn fabric down your legs.

“Those were my favourites, you brute.”

He winked up at you.

“Ah, I suppose that makes us even,” he drawled.

Was he thinking about that damn teacup right now?

“How are you?” He said, checking in on you.

“Good.”

He smiled and your heart melted a little.

He froze when he took in the sight of your lingerie.

“Were you thinking of me when you bought these?”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you said.

“Too late.”

You bit your lip. It hadn’t been intentional, your underwear matching the colour of his eyes. He trailed his nose up the soaked fabric brushing your clit. You grabbed his hair at the stimulation. You felt the beginnings of the scruff threatening to break out of his chin tickling you as he guided your lingerie aside and gave your clit an ardent lick. Wriothesley wasn’t big on savoury treats, but you weren’t savoury, you tasted like you, and you were fast becoming his favourite dessert.

“You taste divine,” he said.

“Oh Archons,” you muttered.

“They won’t hear you down here,” he said.

It didn’t take long before your toes were curling, and you were chanting his name. Wriothesley gripped your thigh with one hand and fingered you with the other, stretching you out in preparation for him; because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you were going to cum around him. He was going to feel the way you would clench around him; he was going to watch your blissed-out face twist as he fucked you hard into his desk. Although he would love to feel you climax on his face there would be time for that. He’d be damned if this was the first and only time he had you. You were his. Morals and reputation be damned, he wanted—no, needed to be inside you. He didn’t care if the entirety of Meropide could hear you; in fact, he got off on the thought.

Just when you felt like you were about to climax, he pulled away and licked his lips. You glared at him as he stood and bent over you kissing you softer than before. You could taste yourself on his lips, and instead of it turning you off it spurred you on. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, grinding against his clothed erection.

“Do you trust me?” he asked between heated kisses.

Everything felt wet like you both were melting, and you probably were. If so, you didn’t care, becoming water wasn’t half bad if it was with him. You heard his cuffs before you saw them spinning around the two fingers that had been inside you.

“Right now, no,” you lied.

He half smiled.

“I suppose I deserve that. I guess I’ll just have to persuade you then.”

You untangled from around him. He stepped back unbuttoning his shirt and revealing lean scar-littered skin. You wanted to reach out and so you did, tracing the long jagged discoloured scars, slightly keloid. Some looked fresher than others. He shivered and breathed out a low groan when you grazed over his nipple. He raised his signature cuffs.

“Give me your wrists,” he said.

It clinked when it secured around both wrists. The spiked metal looked so beautiful against your skin; he was almost tempted to throw away the key.

“Oh no, you’ve caught me, your grace,” you teased. Something you shouldn’t have done because the way he looked at you after told you that you had triggered something in him.

“You did break my favourite teacup after all,” he said.

“I thought we were even.”

You watched him slowly unbuckle his belt and step between your legs. There would be time for savouring the moment later, many moments if he could help it but not then. You felt his erection only covered by the thin fabric of his boxers press against your vagina, he leans over you caging you between his arms and the desk.

“Indeed, we are for breaking.” He nibbled on your ear, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. That was an expensive cup you know some flimsy shorts won’t cover the costs. You should know I only play fair, and you got some of the tea on my freshly shined boots.”

Your cuffed hands resting on your stomach fiddled with the lining of his boxers. You lost your breath when he nuzzled into the base of your neck.

“Don’t tease me,” he grunted.

You manage to slip his cock out.

“Says the man who denied me my orgasm.”

You felt his smile on your neck.

He rubbed his cock along your folds but didn’t push in. He wanted to be sure that you’re sure.

“I don’t think friends do this,” he said as he continued to edge your hole.

“Just fuck me already,” you sassed.

He thrust into you, filling you completely. He was thicker than you expected, thicker than you had had before. You couldn’t be more thankful for the earlier foreplay because without it he wouldn’t have fit. He remained still for a while, and you slowly adjusted to his size. The dull ache of the intrusion quickly turned from discomfort to bliss.

“Wriothesley.”

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed. “Don’t stop saying my name.”

You didn’t.

“Good girl,” he said.

The desk jutted, the papers shook, and books slid off the desk smacking the floor in their wake, but the sound was lost to you both. Despite his strong persona, and much to your delight, he didn’t hold back his occasional whimpers, and grunts. The sound blessed your ears like a symphony. Sometime after your first orgasm, he took off the cuffs and threw them to his settee.

He left the occasional bites and kisses on the underside of your jaw, and down to your breasts. You, in turn, added to the long scars down his back, your nails clawing into the flesh. He would treasure those when they scarred.

You guided his face up from your neck, where he had been breathing you in as if he couldn’t get enough of you into his system. In truth, he couldn’t. You kissed him deeply, filling it with all the words you hadn’t yet been able to say. You felt your third climax on the horizon as he hit the same spot that made your back arch.

“Wriothesley,” you said against his mouth. “There.”

He chased your lips.

“That’s it,” he said, rolling his hips. He slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and rubbed your swollen clit. You let out a needy moan.

 “I’ve got you,” he said as you clenched around him.

Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of primordial water. He held you to him, as he continued to thrust towards his own high, encasing you in his arms.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groaned.

 Wriothesley felt like he was on cloud nine. Being with you was entirely different from what he imagined in the best way possible. It felt like a dream having you here, in his arms, pliant to his every desire. In each kiss, he pretended that you felt the same way; that you wanted the same things. He pretended that this moment wasn’t just a moment but forever—because he wanted you forever.

He slowed down prolonging the experience and straightened up looking down at the fucked-out expression on your face. He knew he didn’t look any better. Swiping a hand through his hair, he continued to roll his hip slowly. He placed a hand on your pelvis steadying you. Your body was covered in a sheen of sweat which glistened under the light of the office. He felt like he was melting into you—like you were melting into each other.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered opening your arms for him, beckoning him home. And truly, to him, you felt like home.

He pushed his damp hair back once again, before leaning over you. With a final grunt and a spam of your walls around him, he came. He didn’t pull out right away, wrapping his arms around you as if afraid to let go.

Your thighs were sticky from your combined releases, and your body felt like it had been sitting in a sauna for hours but seeing the rare, satisfied look on his face made it all worth it. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“You owe me new shorts,” you said.

“I’ll buy you as many shorts as your heart desires,” he uttered, tiredly.

“Really?”

He hummed and nodded slowly.

“Good because I think I’m going to need a lot of them if you’re going to rip them off every time,” you said causing him to perk up. “You know to repay for the teacup.”

“Oh?”

“Unless this was a one-time thing then—“you hesitated.

He kissed you again, unable to hide his smile.

“Next time let’s use my bed.”

“I’d like that,” you said.

He tried to intertwine your hands, but you winced when he brushed against the forming boil.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and to Sigewinne, for real this time.”

“First, can we have a cup of tea?” you asked.

He laughed. Of course, you wanted to have tea. He could do with some tea too; he was famished after all. He laid a kiss on your forehead and made a mental note to send Clorinde an extra box of his finest tea.

“Of course, first let's clean up and then we'll have tea. I promise, but don’t spill it this time.”

masterlist

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When Johnny Comes Back pt8

Howdy y'all! It seems I'm back. I'm writing this at like 5 AM. Idk why it seems like y'all didn't like the last part? Was it too long? Were the colors overwhelming? Hopefully not cuz it's so much more in here. Anyway here's the next part. Tell me if it's too long. Also I got college tests comin up so.....expect some delays for the next few days

tags: @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and @beelzebee

part1, part2, part3, part4, part5, part6, part7

------

You’re standing on a cliff side, the sunset beautiful and fleeting. Ash swirls around you. You look to where it’s from and it’s your cat Simon tipping over the urn. The ashes surround you as a mysterious laughter surrounds you, along with mocking words you don’t understand but just know they’re meant to be despairing. And that he has a Russian accent for some reason. The ash swirls faster and the next time you look at Simon he’s a charred mess of what he used to be.

“Simon?” You ask, distraught and horrified at your sweet kitty’s death. Simon’s eyes were dead and bluer than you remember. The ash surround you more and more and you sense Johnny’s presence. You don’t know why or where.

“Johnny?” You call out and the Russian’s voice grows louder and more mocking as more, sadder voices joined in. It didn’t feel like there was an outside source to the voices. It felt like it was in your mind.

"He was the best of us"

"The toughest"

"Would have fought the world barehanded"

Your location changed and you’re looking over Johnny’s dead body, the shot on his head bleeding nightmarishly. His lifeless eyes pointing at you without looking at you. You hear an authoritative voice announce: “All stations- this is Bravo in the blind. Threat neutralized. Bomb is safe... One KIA.”

You see a strange shadowy figure loom over Sergeant Soap. His shadows reminded you of the fur on Simon.

It was hard to make out but you saw a skull with hollow eyes and knew you just knew that this was death and he was going to take Johnny away from you. You look at the horrific state of Johnny. Your mouth doesn’t move but you’re calling out to him as the reaper takes him away.

“Johnny! No! Please!”

You couldn’t move, you were running but it’s like you weren’t moving. You call out to them more but it’s like you weren’t actually screaming. You catch up to them and tackle death, but he and Johnny disintegrates into shadows and ash that surround you again. The voices come back: the Russian, the voices, Johnny himself. You couldn’t understand anything you’re hearing other than occasional words:

“KIA” “Bonnie!” “Be careful who you trust sergeant. Peo-“ “bravo six goin da-“ “-ple you know can hurt you the most” “translate that from bullshit to eng-“ “hen! I’m here” "-the toughest" “or I’ll FUCKiNG hang you from it” “would have fought the world bare handed” “LOVE! WAKE UP!”*

——————————————————

You GASP loudly as you’re shaken from your torture.

“Lassie?” He shakes you again

You look at Soap “Johnny?!”

“Aye I’m here what hap-“ you hug him tightly, just like the one you gave him yesterday: strong, tight, wet, bordering on suffocating if he wasn’t so durable, all done while you’re shaking. He grips you back, rubbing your back and ruffing your hair. “Birdie…what happened?”

You squeeze harder and he catches the hint that you just need to be grounded right now. He leans into your ear and whispers reassurances

“Jus’ a bad dream Bonny lass, yer here with me now. Yer big strong man, back from war safe and sound. You’re okay Bonny nothing is gonna hurt ya.”

“I’m not worried about myself Johnny..” you mumble. His words hit him like a brick all over again and his heart swells. he’d tease you for falling for him but…not now.

“Aye….I’m…sorry tae worry ye”

“I saw you dead…”

“…..” he goes quiet

“I saw you dead…and…and death took you…a-and…I-I tried to stop it b-but he disappeared a-and Simon also died and was burned-”

“Hey, hey…hen…jus’ a nightmare okay?”

“I’ve had this exact nightmare before. I don’t know why it keeps happening. It feels so real.” You finally pull back, looking at him. This time, when looking at the bandage on his head, you feel relieved. He’s hurt, but he’s here. Here and breathing. You place your chin on his neck and look up at him with soft puppy eyes

“I’m worried for you”

“I Ken.”

“You could’ve died”

“Aye”

“Your head was shot”

“Dinnae need ta remind me.”

You sigh and close your eyes as he ruffled your hair.

“I’m here Bonny. I cannae promise you to be back next time. I’m not that naive, seen too many a men sharing a laugh wit me one night and share a body bag the next. Hell, even civis die without warnin’ all da damn time. I cannae promise ye next month or next week, and neither can you, but I’m promising ye right now. And right now I’m layin’ in my kip with the fairest princess in the land.”

You crack a smile

“Aye, she’s even fairer now”

You giggle and hide your face into his chest.

“I’m glad you’re here Johnny”

“Haven’t heard you say that before. Say it again?”

You don’t shake your head or roll your eyes, instead you jump up to wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close to your chest

“I’m so happy that you’re here Johnny!” He growls and grips your body harshly

“I could get used tae this bein my good mornin’” he rasps

“Hmm..me t-…..” you stop, remembering something

.

.

“birdie?”

You pull back and have an annoyed look on you

“Johnny.” You say firmly

“A..aye?”

You grip his face roughly, as if trying to punish him “were you awake while I was trying to get out of your hold last night?”

“Dinnae Ken wha’ yer talking aboot’”

“Johnny.” You say ever firmer, looking at him with a piercing gaze

“Yes gorgeous?”

“Were you. Awake. While I was trying to go sleep in my bed?”

“…..”

“Johnny?” You growl, your touch now pressing into his head injury (not too hard through) to get your point across. “Tell me the truth”

“I love you mo chridhe”

“JOHNNY! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!”

You rip the pillow out from under him and raise it above your head like a bloodthirsty barbarian, ready to strike

“Princess! Mercy please I beg o’ ya!”

“There’s no doll here now sergeant suds! Now it’s your superior! And you’re taking discipline”

He laughs at your mimicry, blocking your pillowy bludgeons to the body

“Since when-" smack "-were you-" smack "-my superior?”

You growl and increase your pace.

“I dinnae take orders from a civi!” He chuckles. He tackles you to lay down on the bed while you continue to pillow smack him.

“I’m the princess. I outrank you sergeant! Now unhand me!” You blow your tongue at him.

“Yes yer highness.” He rolls off you. You jump off the bed, face red at what you endured. He gets off and runs up to you too.

“C’mon leannan, aren’t ye glad that yer brave soldier was there to protect ye from the nightmare?”

Pause.

Well….that’s true. Who know how bad that nightmare could’ve gotten if he didn’t shake you awake and comfort you. He hugs your from behind, doing that terrible habit of leaning in close behind you to speak lowly over your shoulder while being half dressed

“I’m just doin’ by job princess. Duty calls”

“And does your Call of Duty include trapping and annoying the princess until she attacks you with pillows?”

“Tis’ Modern Warfare bonny. Things are like that these days.”

“And the bedtime story you made me tell?”

“Tis’ Modern Warfare too. I’d die for it” You sigh. He’s impossible. He leans into your ear more. “If it’s nae too late, Good mornin’ leannan”

“It’s the afternoon Johnny. It’s what happens when you sleep around sunrise”

“My sunrise happens when my sun rises”

“And when that?”

“When didja wake up?”

You blush “shut up.”

“Yes yer highness. Yer always so grumpy in the mornin’”

“You’re always annoying in the morning. Do they train you to be a nuisance the second you wake up?”

“Aye, ye never Ken when they might get piece o’ mind” You shake your head and try to move, his arms are imprisoning you fucking again*

“Johnny.”

“Nae”

“……I’ll make you breakfast”

“A big one?”

“Yes you beast. A big one. But you’ll have to get dressed more than your underwear.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. You don’t see me walking around the place with jus’ my skivvies on do you?”

He shrugs “sounds like a you problem.”

“Do it and I’ll give you the flat’s entire inventory of bacon and a dozen eggs”

He lets go and dashes to the closet to get dressed. You smile and skip to make a feast fit for an army. A one man army that is. A tiny while later he there, shirtless but at least he’s got pants on.

“Thank you honey”

“You don’t have to say that. And I’m not your honey” you say the line you’ve said many times to the point where it’s an affectionate routine like your personalized greeting

“Then why are you so sweet to me hen?” He says on cue.

“Okay you Lorne lad. Go sit down as I make you breakfast”

“I want tae hel-“

“Sit down.”

He obeys and spends the entire time staring at you, just like Simon, who’s watching nearby. As per promise you added the rest of all the bacon you had into a skillet

“Aye, little more?” He teased

“This is like a kilo of bacon”

“Not enough”

“Sush this ain’t epic meal time.”

You decide to be a cunt to prove a point make enough food to feed the entire cast of Game of Thrones. Let’s see him ask for more now. what’s in an English/Scottish breakfast again?

Eggs. How many Eggs? Well no one eats eggs like Gaston, but Gaston hasn’t met Soap.

Sausages. How much sausages? Enough to make AO3 look clean enough to have a church service in.

“Ohh leannan that looks good!”

“I said shush let me finish”

Beans. Beans? You and the boys at 3AM Lookin for BEANS and this is enough gas to keep a tank in orbit.

“Bonnie I think that’s eno-“

“Shush”

Mushrooms. He wants mushrooms? Here’s Enough to recreate The Last of Us.

Does Johnny boy want toast? Here is Enough to eradicate the local duck population from existence, then enough tea to recreate the Boston tea party and serve the queen leftover. But knowing Johnny he’ll want coffee too.

How much coffee you give him? Enough to make a college student flinch

Aaannnd finally tomatoes. That’s Enough tomatoes to boo away every mediocre LA comedian into a better profession.

“Done” you grin and turn to look back at Soap, who was visibly salivating. You chuckle “are you hungry princess bubbles?”

“Aye” he says looking at the domestic scene before him. You, in pajamas and his shirt, making him a breakfast feast when he came back from deployment. It’s not just the food he’s salivating at.

“Eat up” you start serving it all and he digs in like a wild dog. Before meeting him, You’d be disgusted and put off by this barbaric behavior, but because it’s Johnny, not only do you let it slide, you also find it endearing.

Simon jumps on the table, you shoo him away from your plate, trying to make him eat from his kitty bowl. It’s on the table because he refused to eat otherwise. He wants to eat with your two and that’s final.

He, for some reason decided to eat from Soap’s plate, which was smart because Johnny “I’ll eat anythin’ you make me” Mactavish doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

You leisurely eat your food as Johnny seems to be challenging Matt Stony for his records. You sip on your beverage, that’s in a cup, while Johnny drinks from the pitcher. He finishes his breakfast, a surprise to even you seeing how much he ate, and lays back with a groan

“I’m stuffed lass. Dinnae think I can move.”

“You didn’t have to eat all of it”

“Nae, I’ll eat anythin’ and everythin’ ye make”

“Yeah well, don’t get used to it. Do you have any idea how expensive that brand of bacon was?” You say looking at your phone casually

“Ye’d have more money if ye married me for military spouse tax benefits Bonny” You laugh, what a bold offer and yet it doesn’t sound too bad.

“I’m sure”

“Think about it Bonnie, I’ll make ye a Mactavish, you already act like one, makin yer soldier a feast after comin’ back from the war” oh is that why he was affectionate today?

You snort “oh no Johnny. Once you retire, you’re taking my last name”

“And why’s tha’?”

“it’ll do you some good changing your last name. If anyone asks why you took mine, just say you married a feminist” you sip your drink.

"what's wrong with Mactavish?" he whines through his chuckle

“You’re a war criminal Johnny.” You casually mention, as if Soap ever wanted you to know that.

Jazz Music Stops

He didn’t.

part9

[murasaki-cha]

Oh god wait I need to share this now after Reckless.

Obviously RECKLESS SPOILERS so if you haven't finished the book than don't go ahead. Or go if you want idk.

I have always had this Kaidyn (yes I'm using this ship name because it's perfect) headcanon.

Imagine a scenario where Kai gets heavily injured (in my head he jumped in front of a sword meant to pierce Paedyn etc) and he's bedridden for days and Peadyn stays by his bedside waiting for him to get up.

And I always imagined Paedyn holding onto Kai's hand and kissing them. Kissing the top of his hand, his knuckles, the palm of his hand or just his fingers. Just she always kisses his hand.

Now when I was playing around with this headcanon I was thinking that, since Kai always talks about his hands being drenched with blood of the lives he had taken, this would be a way for Paedyn to show her forgiveness for Kai and how she cherishes every part of him, even the hands he sees as nothing more than tools for delivering death.

BUT NOW WITH NEWFOUND INFORMATION FROM RECKLESS EVERYTHING CHANGES!

Because now, imagine the exact same scenario but Paedyn is kissing Kai's thumb. She's kissing his thumbs, the same thing he used to do to his little sister to make her feel more powerful, the same thing he did to Paedyn to try to give her strength during her toughest moments, and she's doing the same thing because she wants to give him her strength so he can wake up. Kissing his thumb because he's always been the one to give his strength with those thumb kisses and now he needs that strength back.

And for bonus hurting points, imagine Kitt witnessing this moment. Kitt seeing the woman he's forcing to marry him as revenge, the woman his brother loves to the point of dying for her without a second thought and the woman who has not strayed from his brother's unmoving body for days now, doing the exact same thing his brother used to do to their little sister.

He knows the meaning of the act and he not only realises how much of his heart and soul Kai has opened up to Paedyn but also how badly she needs to see him wake up, to the point she's relying on tricks for children that hold no real power. Because she can't transfer her strength to him by kissing his thumb, but she's desperate enough, hurting enough to try it.

[gotta-winwin]

(☎️) ... merry christmas, please don't call - teaser

⭐ starring: seungcheol

☎️ preview: The toughest part about loving Seungcheol was the fact that he didn’t know himself at all. And how does one truly love a ghost? 

based on the song Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call by Bleachers

“But you should know that I died slow Running through the halls of your haunted home And the toughest part is that we both know What to happened to you Why you're out on your own Merry Christmas, please don't call”

tw/cw: heavy angst + smut, not a happy ending, tortured lovers, coups is an asshole but he doesn't mean to, idol!seungcheol x nonidol!reader, talk of leader responsibilities more in depth warnings will be posted with the full fic

🐻‍❄️ release date: new years eve

🪽fic rating: 18+ | teaser rating: no smut

☁️ masterlist & a/n: this heavy angst christmas fic is to combat the insane amount of fluff in the vernon christmas special (ᵕ—ᴗ—) it's also very self indulgent angst + smut with coups.

"Oh, golden boy, don't act like you were kind"

He was inevitable in the end. Like some invisible string connected the two of you together. Not the pretty, dainty kind of invisible string. Whatever held your lives together was made of barbed wire. Whatever line wrapped around your ribs, restricting your breathing, tying you to him was nothing pretty. It was what army men used in wars. 

You can’t hate your best friend, even if they end up hurting you. You just can’t.

“Come back to bed.” You whisper in the dark as you watch his dark silhouette get up. The clock on his nightstand was barely legible. 

You could hear him throwing a shirt on. “I’ve got to go.”

You open your mouth to ask him again, but the words die in your mouth. A couple days ago you would’ve begged, but the bubbling hatred in you pushed the words down your esophagus, momentarily choking you. Seungcheol noticed your silence. 

“I’ll be back before sunrise.” He leans over the bed and kisses your cheek, brushing a stray hair from it. “Don’t be mad.”

You shake your head in the dark. “I’m not mad.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

That was just how the world spun. You, lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling you used to trace constellations on together. Sheets that smelled like him - aftershave and candles. Pleading words sewn shut in your mouth, hidden in your lungs, suffocating you. As you sank back into sleep, drowning under everything you’ve ever wanted to tell him. You knew it wasn’t his fault. After all - he barely knew who he was, hidden under all his responsibilities and his job title, he was barely a semblance of a man - tugged and stitched together. 

It barely registered in your mind that tomorrow would be Christmas Eve. Part of you knew he wouldn’t be there to celebrate anyways.

[freakingholland]

I need some fluffy Remus x f! Reader. Reader is a need-of-touch Person, plagued by the similar issues like Remus (insecurity/ anxiety, lack of self esteem, feeling of not deserving love & happiness, depression, and can be impulsive). History of bullying at school, family issues (fighting parents, mean relatives). On a very hard hitting depression day, Remus learns of her troubles, a friendship develops. Both afraid to „ruin“ it with their feelings. A deep cuddle part :)? Thank you very much!

"Let's stop pretending" - Remus Lupin x teacher!Reader

A/N: Hello! Thank you sm for this request! You didn’t specify if you want it to be older or younger Remus so I went with teacher Remus and teacher Reader – I hope you don’t mind! I loved working on this piece and I hope you’ll like it! Also this was my first time writing something so emotional so please go easy on me!

If you or anyone you know is struggling please consider seeking help. Here are some extremely helpful hotlines: 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: 988 (US) STAND! For Families Free of Violence crisis line: 888-215-5555 (US) National Domestic Abuse Helpline in the UK: 0808 2000 247 (UK) Crisis Services Canada Suicide Prevention Service: 1-833-456-4566 (Canada) Remember, you are not alone and things can get better. Virtual hugs - Tori xx

Summary: Sometimes the most influential people, the closest to one’s heart, get the worst of treatments. But true love will always shine through the toughest of times. And that’s what happened with Remus and his partner. (emotional hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, romance)

Warnings: not proofread! descriptions of low self esteem, depressive mood, descriptions of anxiety and worries, heartfelt confessions, teacher x teacher relationship.

Word count: 1.7K +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist

my AO3 archive is here

Sweaty, breathless. With a knot painfully tightening in your stomach. With an unrested mind, thoughts colliding with one another and blurring together. Was it the weight of your new function? Was it the memories of your own school years? The taunts, the whispers, the isolation - all of it suddenly felt too close, like it had never really left. But you shook your head, forcing yourself to breathe. In and out.

You were safe now—or so you told yourself. On the other side. Teaching, not being taught.

A bottle of water, your beloved quill, some chocolate, books. You nervously clutched your most needed belongings with trembling hands. You hurriedly skipped up the stairs towards your newly assigned classroom keeping your things close to your torso.

As you were approaching the top of the staircase you were greeted with a small smile from a man walking downstairs. One that you couldn’t help but return despite the tightness in your chest. A fellow professor – judging by the look of his robe. He was wearing a sweater that at first sight seemed just as soft as his gaze. His soft facial expression and scent briefly shook you from your overwhelming thoughts.

“Good morning.” he said calmly. You stopped in your tracks.

“I feel like we know each other,” you said hesitantly, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

He nodded gently, with a spark of recognition behind his ocean blue eyes.

“Hmmm we do… it’s been so long. Good to see a familiar face. Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“It really has been. Nice to see you too,” you replied, a weird sense of relief creeping in.

Remus Lupin. Of course you remembered him. He had been a well-seasoned fifth year student by the time you had started your first term at Hogwarts. Though you’d never really spoken directly, you were aware of him. Your paths crossed briefly when you were a prefect for Ravenclaw at a time of his own prefect duties for Gryffindor.

You loved being a prefect, it had been a rare reprieve. It gave you an excuse to roam around the castle, to lose yourself in the beauty of it. While many younglings found the darkness of Hogwarts unsettling, to you it was a genuine comfort, a place where you could gather your racing thoughts in peace.

“I’m sure we will see each other more often. My class is just around the corner. If you need anything dear you know where to find me.” He tilted his head in the direction of the stairs.

“Now if you’ll excuse me ma’am! I have to sign some documents at Mrs. McGonagall’s office. We shall see each other later?”

“Certainly. See you later Remus.”

It was hard not to admit that his warm welcome caught you off guard. What surprised you was that, despite having barely interacted in the past, he seemed to hold some sense of fondness towards you. Regardless, his gesture was undeniably kind.

-

You and Professor Burbage sat side by side, your mugs of coffee warming your hands as you exchanged stories about the last week’s antics from your lessons.

“…and then he- “you began, only to be interrupted by a familiar warmth on your shoulder.

“And who is that?” a familiar voice teased from behind.

Remus peeked between you and Professor Burbage with his very own cup of coffee.

“Good evening, Remmy. Please have a seat!”

“May I?” he asked without really waiting for an answer before pulling up a chair.

As Remus sat down, his knee brushed yours briefly under the table.

“You’re like two peas in a pod these days,” Burbage commented, her eyes darting between you with a knowing grin.

“What can I say dear Charity…?” Remus began, his tone mockingly serious.

“You have to have somebody to complain to when you’re marking awfully written papers.” You finished for him.

“Exactly. Out of respect for our sanity, of course.”

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days?” she asked.

Remus raised an eyebrow, but his smirk gave him away. “Yes, that’s precisely what we’re calling it. Survival through shared suffering.”

 “Mhmm, shared suffering,” Charity said under her breath before taking a long sip of her coffee. She glanced at her watch.

“Well well I’d love to banter with you for a little longer but some of us have lessons to prepare for. Good night,” she said, slowly rising from her seat. She gently smoothed out her robe.

“Goodnight, Charity,” you said, trying to ignore the subtle heat spreading through your cheeks.

-

You were moving rice from one edge of your plate to another, trying to make it vanish with your sight.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Remus said, breaking the silence.

Forcing a smile, you replied, “It’s nothing, just tired.” He gave you an attentive look and nodded slowly.

“Dearie if you need to talk, you know I’m here,” he said gently.

„I know, thank you…”

Your rational side begged you to stop, to bury the feelings before they ruined what you had. But your heart had other ideas. It kept slowly but surely tearing you apart with unrelenting tension, increasing with every single one of Remus’ gestures, remarks.

His hand had barely brushed against yours, and it was enough to fuel the ache in your chest. You wanted to lean into the warmth he offered, wanted to let the comfort of his company wrap around you like a blanket, but you simply couldn’t.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you. You needed to leave. Needed some space.

“I... I must…go set up the classroom.” You said firmly getting up from your warmed up seat.

As you stepped into the hallway the cold air hit your face, making you more focused on your breathing. The feeling was sort of like the one on your first day teaching. Except this time you were walking away from him, the one person who had brought you so much comfort. With each step, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were letting something so important slip right through your fingers.

You slammed the door behind you, taking out your anger on the object. You couldn’t help but cry it all out. You slid down to the floor and buried your face between your knees.

Remus couldn’t stand it any longer. He set down his mug with a thud and followed you.

He hesitated for a moment, but the instinct to check on you was stronger than the quiet voice in his head telling him to stay away. Gently pushing the door open, he found you, sitting on the cold stone floor next to it.

He sat down beside you without a word. The silence was growing thicker if that was even possible.

“I don’t deserve this Y/N…” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“You are right…you don’t deserve such treatment, “ you whispered back.

“I... I don’t know what’s happening anymore, Remus,” you choked out, your shoulders shaking. “Everything feels like it's falling apart, and I can’t keep pretending it’s fine.”

“That is not what I meant love.” He locked his gaze with yours, eyes glistening in the warm sunlight. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t deserve someone like you. I’ve spent so long convincing myself that I shouldn’t get close to anyone, and yet… here you are. Without even trying, you’ve become everything to me.” His voice wavered.

“You’ve brought light into places I thought would stay dark forever.”

“I’ve hidden from who I really am… from what I’ve been through. I convinced myself that I wasn’t worthy of any of the good things, especially not you.” His words made your chest tighten.

“But you are worthy, Remus. You’re the most caring person I know. I wouldn’t have survived being here if it wasn’t for your constant support. I owe you the beginning of this chapter of my life.”

He looked down, his voice quiet as he murmured, “I don’t know how to accept that. I don’t know how to feel like I’m enough for you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“I have to be honest with you, Remus. I don’t know how to just be your friend anymore. I’ve tried, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel the way I do.” Your voice cracked, and you turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I never thought… I never dared to believe you could feel the same,”

“I’ve spent so much time telling myself you were out of reach,” he continued.

He paused, his hand hovering uncertainly before finally brushing gently against your cheek, as if afraid you might pull away. “I need to say this, Y/N. It’s been eating at me for weeks now, and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You turned to face him. More tears welled up in your eyes. But this time they were happy tears.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you, wrapping your arms tightly around him. His embrace was immediate.

“I’ve tried to ignore it... but the more I’m with you, the more it’s hard to deny. I love you too,” you murmured into his chest, your voice muffled. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

As he held you close, the world felt like it had finally righted itself.

You soaked in the relief. And the warmth that seemed like it was completely out of your reach just seconds ago.

You stayed intertwined for a while, slowly digesting the good and the bad. Giving yourself space to let everything sink in.

But then, as the two of you sat there in silence for a while, Remus shifted slightly and let out a soft chuckle.

“You know,”

“as romantic as this moment is, my buttocks are absolutely freezing.” You couldn’t help but laugh through the remains of your tears.

“Oh, so now you’re saying my breakdown spot isn’t up to your standards?” you teased, pulling back just enough to see his face, which was now decorated with a playful smirk.

“I’m just saying, if we’re going to spend the night clinging to each other and crying some more maybe we could do it somewhere else. My butt’s about to become part of the stonework here… have some mercy for an old man.”

“I will as long as I am allowed to call you my old man.”

“I suppose I could let you get away with that... but only because I’m feeling generous.” Remus grinned, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Thank you for reading! Stay whelmed xx

[disneyprincemuke]

what if i told you that i've fallen? * ls2

[part one out of eight]

and what do you do when you fall in love with the person you swear is your best friend in the entire world?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: u don't have to be acquainted with the original series to read and enjoy this i promise there's context here like i swear i swear i-

this is also A STANDALONE FIC OK THIS Is juST THEIR MEGA TIMELINE FIC WHERE whaT IF i entertained the idea of them ending up together xoxo <3

wc: 6.2k

(series masterlist) | (through the years)

2020

girls and guys can always be just friends for the rest of their lives. realistically, it isn’t that difficult to prove it: her friendship with oscar has always been the one remaining evidence that it is possible. and for years, her friendship with logan also told everyone that the phenomenon of ‘opposite gender friendships are impossible’ is simply a lie.

that was when she stepped out of her university campus one evening: a breeze blew her hair back, stray leaves swirling on the ground as logan leaned against the hood of his car. she felt her heart drop to her stomach when he looked up from his phone to smile at her.

suddenly her best friend didn’t seem like much of a best friend anymore. suddenly, she got giddy at the thought of sitting in the passenger side of his car; blushing when he put a hand on the back of the headrest as he reversed the car out of their parking spot. all of the things that he does have got a deeper meaning to them — is he doing that mindlessly or is she crazy to think that he could possibly feel the same?

truthfully, she has no idea where the feelings came from. up to now, she’d only ever seen logan as a best friend with whom she had several things in common. not to forget 1 of the 2 people who drove her around in their fancy cars whenever she needed them to. and not only that, one of the kids her parents let stay with them in their house during times they had to spend apart from their families back home.

“hey, feeling alright?” oscar elbows her gently.

the girl perks up slightly, turning to him with a wide smile as she blinks rapidly. “yeah, why do you ask?” she follows his gaze down to the untouched cup of mojito sitting on the table. she meets his eyes again with a sheepish laugh. “i just don’t really feel like drinking tonight.”

the sheer thought of having feelings deeper than the surface level for logan was enough to make her stomach churn.

oscar raises his eyebrow, glancing at the mojito again. “i don’t believe that.”

“i swear!” she shrieks, eyes widening as she waves oscar’s concerns away. “i’m just not feeling the club at all, actually.”

“really? but you’re usually in your element when we go clubbing,” oscar frowns, taking the mojito into his hands and starting to drink it immediately. it’s odd that she’s not out on the dance floor, creating a small dance party with random goers. “is something wrong? you can talk to me.”

she looks over her shoulder as the sight of her best friend on the dance floor with another girl greets her once more. it’s only complicated because she got him that girl the minute they stepped into the club. it’s what logan always teases her about being able to score him dates and girls even better than he could all by himself. she has this way of talking him up where girls immediately fall for him. it’s a power, even.

he praises her for that all the time.

as much as she’s convinced that this crush would never develop into something more than it is, it worries her. this one is different. she knows by heart because she’s never been kept up all night by anything before — not even her toughest days in school had gotten her this stressed.

racing, maybe, but nothing else.

and she knows she can’t talk to oscar about this. so she takes a deep breath and shakes her head again. “it’s nothing. i think i’ll just order some bar food.” she scooches out of their booth. “do you want any?”

“i’m alright, mate,” oscar grins. he waves goodbye to her, watching her disappear into the crowd. he turns to lily. “did you notice that? she was acting weird, wasn’t she? it’s not just me?”

lily nods, taking a sip from the mojito that the young girl left behind. “it is. we should try and figure that out soon before it gets bad.”

logan couldn’t tell you when he started seeing his best friend as more than just a friend. it came randomly.

the last time he remembered feeling normal about her was the night they all slept in his room the night before her first race in formula 3. someone was shivering and it sure as hell was not the guy sleeping next to him on the other bed with a blanket strewn over his shoulders tightly. when he sat up, he snorted when he saw the younger girl curled up into a ball as her teeth softly chattered.

he sighed as he got up to his feet, picking up the blankets that she’d conveniently kicked down to the ground sometime during her slumber. he would never have noticed if he hadn’t stepped on it, her stuffed animal lying on the ground, abandoned and betrayed by her after she discarded everything on the bed with her initially.

he remembers that he laughed as he lifted her arm, placing the stuffed animal under her arms. and he thought that she looked so adorable nuzzling her cheek into the plushie, falling into an even deeper sleep.

what got him was when he laid the blanket over her. she pulled the blankets around herself a little tighter, smiling in satisfaction as she felt her body start to warm up. “thanks,” she whispered before abruptly snoring again.

he felt his heart go heavy at the sight, thumping against his chest as she sighed heavily. suddenly his head starts to spin and he feels something he’s never really felt for anyone before.

and, oh, god. he needs to sit down.

he sat at the edge of her bed, scratching his head as both of his friends slept. he looked over at her and felt something tugging at his heart and he knew instantly that it was over for him and the way he looked at her.

he thought it was just a fleeting crush and something that would eventually go away. but it’s been 2 weeks and he still hasn’t been able to push away the nagging feeling in his chest. everything just leads back to the girl with the seemingly brightest smile and most hypnotising eyes.

it wasn’t long until he felt like he could burst from the way he felt. which is why he’s now sitting opposite oscar, at brunch, while they wait for her and lily to arrive from stopping by at a bakery not too far away. he’s bearing holes into oscar’s head, waiting to catch his attention, but the australian seems to be too caught up with what’s on his phone than his friend quietly breaking down across the table.

“oscar,” logan finally says, hand darting out to try and catch his attention. “mate, i need to tell you something. it’s important.”

“oh, you never really have anything serious to say.” oscar puts his phone down on the table, pressing his lips together. he folds his arms and leans on the table. “did you do something bad again? you have to tell her dad this time, i can’t keep doing that for you, mate.”

“no, no,” logan sighs, shaking his head. “i’m serious. this is serious. like, you can’t tell lily at all.”

“wha–“

“i know you tell lily everything, no shame in that. but you really cannot tell her this one.”

oscar furrows his eyebrows. “you’re kind of scaring me. how serious is this thing you’ve done?”

“insanely serious.” logan puts his palm on the table. “mate, i think i’m in love.”

out of all the girls that logan has ever been with, he’s never once said that he’s in love. or at least said it out loud. if oscar is hearing about it for the first time since they met years ago, logan must be pretty serious about this.

logan’s just never been the type to commit to anyone, more or less ever claiming that he is in love with any of the girls that he’s gone out on a date with.

oscar looks around, worried that the girls may have already arrived and overheard his friend. “you’ve never ever said that before. are you serious?” logan nods. “like for real, serious? you’re sure about this girl?”

“that’s the thing.” logan starts to play with the menu, opening and closing it as he tries to play off the severity of his feelings. “i don’t know. but it’s been bugging me for weeks now. i can’t get her out of my head.”

“it must be serious if this has been going on for weeks,” oscar scoffs with a small smile. “how long have you known her?”

logan contemplates telling oscar the truth. will oscar ever slip up and tell her about his feelings? and what will happen if it changes everything and he loses his best friends? literally, the people he knows are his ride-or-die.

“you have no idea the severity. it’s–“

“why are you hunched over whispering like a bunch of schoolgirls with gossip?” she snorts, patting logan on the shoulder as she slots herself in the empty spot next to him in the booth. “anything to tell me?”

logan shakes his head, moving in further to give her the spot. “nope, nothing.”

without anything said, oscar feels like logan’s already told him everything. typically, she’s always in the knows of anything feelings-related, or anything that has to do with a crush. and he knows logan doesn’t mind that lily knows. the arrows are only pointing at one possible person present in the room.

but it can’t be. they’re all best friends.

“ah, keeping secrets now, i see,” she hums, narrowing her eyes down into a suspicious stare.

“way to hold it against me, mate,” logan scoffs, picking up the menu from the table. he glances at oscar across the table who raises his eyebrows at him.

logan, already knowing that he’s caught on, just nods in devastation. in a way that oscar’s never seen him before and that in itself is concerning.

the feeling never stops gnawing at her when she lies awake at night in her bed. she tosses and turns for hours, biting her fingernails as she tugs on her hair in frustration.

her lock screen, a picture of the 3 of them at a track from just a couple of days ago, consumes her. she’s come to overanalyse everything: his hand placements in pictures, their text messages, the way he speaks to her, everything that he does seems to mean more than it used to. and it should not be this way at all.

he is her best friend, after all. and what would she know about crushes and love? she could have been a small percentage of the population that grew up without really having one. it’s not something she concerned herself about over the years.

of course, she allowed herself that one boyfriend when she was 16. but even now she knows that that was not love.

could this be love? surely not — not with her best friend.

not with the boy who moved into her house when she was 13 to live with them for some months of the year, then leaving to spend the holidays with his family in florida. it’s not fair that she is consumed whole by the thought of being his girl.

because when you grow up alongside people, you tend to know the worst side of them. especially when you live together.

but why is it that, as aware as she is of logan’s flaws and everything that made girls want to walk away, she still longs to have him all to herself?

she hears his voice mixed with oscar’s from the next room over. it seems that they are also kept up by something that doesn’t seem to concern her. should she join them for another sleepless night like she typically does?

but it seems to be almost crossing the line of the boundaries of late night conversations they seem to be having. she hums, dropping her phone next to her head as she rolls over to lie on her back.

she looks up at the ceiling and tries to map the past couple of years and how it’s led her here. her heart thumps in her chest as she thinks of the green eyes that have captivated her lately, breathing shakily as the urge to stare into it at this very moment grows.

but she doesn’t know that in the next room over, the older boy feels the same way about her. technically, all her tossing and turning, fears of losing him over feelings that are slowly festering in her gut, are all for nothing. because if she got up right now and just laid it all out for him, he would be okay with it. he’d welcome it with open arms.

not knowing if he feels the same is what scares her the most.

a knock on the door makes her jump, sitting up dishevelled as she turns her attention to the door. she should be asleep for her classes tomorrow — which she would have been if logan hadn’t taken up every inch of space in her mind — so if that’s a test from her parents, it’s over for her.

“it’s us.”

she scrambles out of bed, keeping her footsteps soft to avoid the notion of announcing that she’s out of bed. when she opens the door, it’s come to her surprise that they’re wearing jackets and pants. oscar holds up his car keys with a small grin. “we’re hungry.”

“i’ve got classes tomorrow,” she says in a whisper as she avoids logan’s stare that’s boring holes into her skull.

logan shrugs. “and you’re still awake,” he’s the first to walk towards the stairs and beckons his two friends to follow him, “come on, we were craving ice cream. thank god you’re awake.”

she looks down at herself, in her pyjamas and then glances over at her friends with furrowed eyebrows. “i’m not dressed to head out. could you give me like 5 minutes to change at least?”

“no time for that,” oscar frowns, “do you wanna get caught?”

“besides, i brought an extra jacket for you. your mum would flip if she sees one of your jackets was used, no?” logan stops at the top of the stairs, holding up one of his smaller jackets in the air to show it to her. “i reckon we should get a move before your parents hear you out of bed, dude.”

she takes a deep breath, her gaze softening at the jacket that’s held in the air. it’s not that cold out, so she would definitely do without a jacket. but the thought of being wrapped in a jacket that belonged to logan — with his smell and the whole shebang — almost brings her to her knees. and going to sleep with his cologne all over her? it’s enough to make a typically emotionless woman cry.

“mate, do you wanna come or not?” oscar whispers, still towering over her at her door.

she nods, slowly closing the door behind her as she tries to run silently to the stairs where logan is. “does it smell like you? cause that would be kind of gross.”

a lie: she literally wants it to smell like him. just so she can have a sliver of what it feels like to be his.

“nope. that’s clean.” logan smiles proudly, holding up the jacket with both hands, opening it wide for her to wear it. while normally it would be an issue if it smelled like logan (which is why he took a fresh jacket out of his closet), it’s all she wants right now — to go to bed smelling like him to replace the emptiness of sleeping by herself.

she slots an arm into the jacket, thanking him softly as she feels her cheeks heat up at the gesture. and this is what it’s like suddenly overthinking every interaction she has with logan. did he always used to do this or is everything amplified by the thought of her heart suddenly beating for him?

did his actions always have this romantic intonation in them and she was too stupid to notice, or has it always been this way?

she freezes as logan circles her, pulling the jacket down her shoulders before he zips it up for her. he tugs on it gently and pats her shoulder. “warm enough? i’ve got a thicker jacket if you need one.”

she shakes her head, eyes wide as she looks up at him. he doesn’t seem to notice; turning towards the stairs to make their way to the car. oscar walks past them and shakes the keys as softly as he can. “let’s go. i’m starving.”

she watches the 2 boys walk down the stairs, frozen in the ground at their interaction. she sucks in a deep breath as she tries to process everything: the way he was so close to her and how his gesture was so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time.

“mate, let’s go,” oscar scolds, beckoning her from the bottom of the stairs. “i’ll leave you behind if you’re not down here in the next 15 seconds.”

“okay, be patient!” she squeaks, jumping from her spot to rush towards oscar.

by the door, logan keeps a tight grip on the front door as he can barely glance at her happily jumping down the steps. the sight fills his chest with such warmth that he’s never felt before and even forces a small smile on his face that he doesn’t notice.

the gesture with the jacket took everything of his soul to do. it would be crazy for her not to notice the way his hands shook as he zipped the jacket up for her, his breaths shaking as he stood inches away from her. it’s odd because they’ve spent so many years together yet there is this sudden shyness that he cannot seem to escape.

surely she’s starting to catch on as well, right?

he doesn’t even notice that she’s passed him, muttering ‘shotgun’ as she jogs over to the front seat of the car happily. oscar pats him on the shoulder and shoots him a mean glare to snap him out of his trance.

“if you’re going to be this obvious, i’d be more shocked that she hasn’t caught on yet,” oscar mutters with caution before walking out.

logan drags his feet out of the house, slumping his shoulders when he realises that he has to sit at the back. he just shrugs before oscar opens the door to the driver’s seat. “you and i both, dude.”

“see you later, mate.” logan barely lands a pat on her shoulder before walking away, approaching frederik at the other end of the garage.

she looks at the shoulder that he didn’t even touch before her eyes follow the boy now jogging towards his friend. is she going insane or is logan avoiding her?

since they’d gone and grabbed food together 3 weeks ago, it’s been different. logan’s been speaking to her less, keeping conversations short and he barely even looks her in the eye. she can’t say there’s ever been a time that this has ever happened for this long.

she excused it for logan being busy initially, but 3 weeks is too long.

“hey, are you alright?” mick comes up behind her with a small smile and a hand on her back. “you’ve just been standing there for a good minute by yourself.”

“i’m… do you think i’m annoying?” she whispers, eyes wide as her brain goes at a rate it’s never gone before. she starts walking with mick and looks down, bracing herself for his answer.

“what? why would you say that?” he says softly, tilting his head. “did something happen? another reporter get on your nerves?”

she sighs, shaking her head. she looks over her shoulder again where logan walked off before and sighs again as she meets mick’s eyes momentarily. “no… i don’t know… i feel like oscar and logan are avoiding me.”

mick hums, looking around with eyebrows furrowed. surely she is just overthinking it, right? for as long as he’s known any of them, they’ve been inseparable. he can’t think of a time where either logan or oscar went without mentioning her once in a conversation.

it’s like their worlds revolved around her.

“i don’t know, mate,” mick slings an arm over her shoulder as they talk, “maybe just give it some time? it’s a busy weekend and you know they’re your best friends.”

she shrugs. “i guess you’re right. maybe they’re just busy.”

but she can’t just shake away the feeling of something not being right.

“i’m gonna tell her.”

“are you stupid?”

“what? no.”

“then don’t tell her.”

logan puts his hands on his hips, chewing on the inside of his cheek. he stares at oscar with a bewildered expression. “why not?”

oscar mirrors his expression. how stupid can logan be right now? “if she doesn’t reciprocate, then what are you going to do? we literally live with her. tell me what you’re going to do when you tell her you’re in love with her and she doesn’t feel the same way.”

the american throws his hands into the air. “i’m not in love with her!”

“it doesn’t feel that way lately!”

“i have a small crush on her. doesn’t mean that i’m in love with her, okay? and in my head, if i tell her and she doesn’t feel the same way, then it’ll make it easier to move on.”

“babe, i– crush on who?” lily tilts her head, walking into the room with a curious stare. “logan has a crush on somebody? i swear i had this same conversation speculating just 5 minutes ago.”

oscar turns around wide-eyed at his girlfriend. “nobody.”

logan sighs. “oh, lily’s not stupid. you know who i have a crush on.”

the brit blinks blankly at the 2 boys in the room. “no, i don’t.” she tilts her head as she threads the room cautiously. “am i supposed to kn– no way.”

logan nods. “yes way.”

“and you knew this whole time and you’ve been lying to me?” lily shrieks, smacking oscar’s shoulder. “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“so you could tell her and mess up our dynamic? no way!” oscar scoffs, scratching his head in frustration. “listen, i actually like living in her big house with her family. and i actually also like being best friends with her — she’s nice to me.”

“she’s nice to me too,” logan points out.

“that’s different — you’re actually in love with her.”

“i’m not in love with her!”

“you guys have got to start talking to her again,” lily mutters as she climbs into the backseat of oscar’s car. she inches forward and glances out at the window where the younger girl slowly walks over to them. “you’re killing her.”

logan turns around, shaking his leg as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “you’re asking too much of me!”

“i do talk to her!” oscar defends himself, throwing his hands into the air. “but i can’t keep a straight conversation with her without wanting to tell her that our best friend is in love with her!”

the urge to tell her gets worse every single time. she’s just blabbing on all the time oblivious to the fact that their best friend spends countless hours talking about how majestic she is.

“i’m not in love with her!” logan scolds, reaching out to smack oscar on the shoulder. he looks at lily and presses his lips together. “and i try to talk to her, okay? but it’s hard.”

and he really does, but she’s got this need for eye contact when she talks to people; it makes it all the harder not to start rambling about how she’s got him wrapped around her fingers currently. it’s just so unfair how she doesn’t know the effect that she’s got on him.

he can barely keep a conversation with her, his defences crumbling when their eyes meet, stuttering and losing his words. and for a guy like logan, feeling like this for someone is beyond his comprehension. it’s just not something he thinks he can get used to.

“well, you’ve got to keep it together! she’s been really upset lately!” lily mutters, smacking both of their shoulders.

logan sighs. “surely, it’s not that–”

the back door opens and the girl slides into her seat with a polite smile. “hi,” she greets them with a small nod. she doesn’t wait for a response before she puts her airpods in and starts to type away on her phone.

“i told you,” lily mouths to the two boys in the front seats, rolling her eyes as she sits back with her arms folded over her chest.

her jaw drops slightly, eyes watering at the conversation she was definitely not meant to overhear. she steps away from the doorframe she hid behind and slumps her shoulders. "you what?"

the two boys, engaged in a whispering conversation just seconds ago, widen their eyes as they turn their heads to the source of the shocked voice.

she had fallen asleep on her couch as they played video games on the playstation, and they had to have a private conversation about logan’s lingering stares and silent pining.

immediately, logan starts stuttering and flailing his hands around to come up with an excuse for what she could have possibly heard. "i- i mean.. like-"

"the girl you fancy is me?" she asks slowly, then turning to oscar. "and you kept this a secret from me the entire time?"

"no, just let me explain, god," logan smacks his forehead, trying to calm the girl down. "will you listen to me for a second?"

oscar presses his lips together and drops his head in disappointment. "i couldn't tell you. don't be like that."

"you guys made me feel like i was going crazy thinking you didn't wanna be friends with me anymore," she complains, stomping her foot into the ground. "i felt like i didn't even know you guys so well in the past month. i felt like you guys were pushing me away."

"what? no, please just listen to me. this is all my fault."

"i thought you guys didn't even wanna be friends with me anymore. all of that to find out that it's because you just suddenly realised i'm cute?" she bursts, giving logan a look. "seriously? you didn't notice that years ago when we first met?"

oscar lifts his head, his look of disappointment quickly replaced by confusion. logan also drops his hands, head tilting at her response.

he had a list formed of possible ways she could react if his secret ever came out. this was not one of them.

"pardon?"

"we've been friends for so long growing up. you think that i never had a crazy puppy crush on either of you?" she scowls at them, wiping the few tears that managed to escape her eyes. "get a grip, my dudes!"

"what?" logan screams. "you're telling me i've been in over my head for literally nothing because you've had a crush on me too?"

"had?"

"you've got a crush on him right now? and me before?" oscar exclaims in disbelief, pointing at logan. "and we never knew? seriously?"

she shrugs, folding her arms over her chest with a smug smile. "i'm just better at keeping secrets compared to you guys, i guess."

she turns on her heel and walks out of the kitchen. “you’ll get over it. trust me. i’m actually in the process of getting over my crush on you, lo.”

but she’s never been more wrong about anything in her life.

logan leans on his car, elbow propped on the roof of his car and chin in his palm. he taps away on his phone as he lazily enjoys the breeze of oxford while he waits.

“i thought you were going to be late?” she hums, tilting her head as she approaches him. she’s got his jacket around her shoulders and an eye squinted from the sun shining brightly above them. “i took all the time i could walking out of campus.”

he shrugs, pushing himself off the car and slips his phone into his pocket. “traffic cleared up a while back. where’s lily?”

she shrugs back at him with a soft giggle. she jogs over to him and wraps her arms around him momentarily before quickly pulling away. “thanks for picking me up, by the way.”

logan throws his head back with a snort, folding his arms over his chest. “did i have a choice?”

he knew better than to decline her wide eyes asking him to please pick him up from campus after an entire day of classes. that, and that fact that it’s just so difficult to say no to her when it came to things like this.

“very funny,” she laughs with a playful eye roll as she rounds the car to the other side. “lily has something on with another module. let’s head out to dinner, you and i?”

he grins and unlocks his car. “yep. let’s go.”

"what's wrong?" worry paints her face as he starts acting calmer than before. her eyes follow logan's hands, lifted up to her face as he tries to brush back her stray hair behind her ears. "are you alright?"

"have i ever told you," he pauses to trace a line down her cheek with his fingertips, "how pretty you are?"

"only when you're drunk," she whispers back with a playful smile. "did you ingest some kind of poison and you've only got a couple minutes to live? is that why you're like this?"

"no," he shakes his head. a small smile appears on his face, tucking a finger under his chin to lift her eyes up to meet his. "i just think you look very pretty. i don't tell you that often."

she admits she almost felt her knees buckle at his words and melt on the ground at his words. logan had never been a very outwardly affectionate type unless he's drunk, so while this is expected behaviour out of him, it's never gotten quite as intimate as this.

she's had him fall asleep with his head in her lap before on the couch, but never has he been this close to her while whispering sweet words at her.

"it would be weird."

"it shouldn't be."

"logan, are you alright?"

he doesn't respond. and she freezes in her spot when his hand drags along her skin, cupping her cheek as he leans down into her. and he would have done it. he would have kissed her but something stops him.

it could’ve been the sheer reminder that they’re supposed to be just best friends. just that, nothing more and nothing less.

he stops himself right as their noses touch and sighs shakily, holding himself up with a hand on her arm. “i’m sorry.”

she lets out a soft sigh and forces a grin on her face. she grabs his shoulders to stabilise him, “do you need to throw up?”

“i think so,” he mutters with a hand on his chest. he turns to look at her with a heaving chest and puffy lips. “can you help me back to the villa please?”

she chuckles, approaching him with her arms held out. “okay, let’s get you back, mate.”

she stands in front of the bedroom door, stuffed bear in hand with a soft huff as she awaits a response.

the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas and dishevelled hair. he blinks for a few moments before realising who’s standing at the door. “oh, hi.”

“i couldn’t sleep,” she sighs softly, pursing her lips and slouching slightly. “can i sleep in oscar’s bed?”

logan blinks. he tries to think of what oscar would say if he consulted the australian about what to say in response to her question.

his heart has a simple answer: yes, let her spend the night in your bedroom. but his mind, clearly going with logic, knows exactly the solution to avoid getting himself into deeper shit: maybe you shouldn’t let her because it will complicate things.

guess which answer logan chooses.

“yeah, of course.” logan takes a step back and beckons her into the room. “what’s wrong? nightmare? watched a horror movie all by yourself again and scared yourself?”

“yeah,” she grins sheepishly, climbing onto oscar’s bed.

lie. she couldn’t fall asleep at the thought of logan and her almost kissing a week ago on their trip to the bahamas. and since oscar’s not here to put a stop to their antics, she did the one thing she knows would put her to sleep, or at least to a calmer state of mind.

“oh, what did you watch?” logan giggles, closing the door behind him. “do you need me to turn the nightlight on again?”

she smiles, shaking her head. “just insidious. i got bored while i was doing my homework.”

“you should really start watching that with someone around,” logan sighs, walking over to his bed on the other side of the room. “you know how insidious gets you all jumpy and weird.”

“yeah, i barely made it to 20 minutes of the movie,” she laughs, sighing as she drops her back on the bed. she pulls the blankets up and tucks herself under them. “anyway, thanks for letting me sleep here tonight.”

“of course, dude.”

logan finds himself at her university campus once more, leaning up against the side of his car as he awaits the girl to meet up with him.

he hears heels clicking against the gravel of the university parking lot, making him raise his head in anticipation with a wide grin.

“aw, happy birthday, dude!” logan cheers, opening his arms to the girl approaching him. “how were your classes?”

she sighs heavily, rolling her eyes. “horrid.”

“you left before oscar and i could make you pancakes for breakfast,” logan frowns, squeezing her slightly as she stumbles into his body. “we’re going to take you out for pancakes instead.”

“wow, pancakes for dinner?” she giggles with a hand on her chest. “how lovely.”

“and ice cream,” logan beams with a grin. he gently reaches forward to take her laptop into his hands along with the bag on her shoulder. “because it’s your birthday–”

“where’s my gift?” she teases, hopping forward to rest her chin on his arm. she looks up at him with puffed cheeks and wide eyes. “you promised me a present this year.”

logan blinks blankly at her. he looks at the way she’s cosied up into his body and then back into her eyes. “it’s with oscar.”

she blinks, taking a step back as she realises how close she’s gotten to him. “so you got me a present? how sweet of you, logan.”

“you threatened me to get you a present,” logan scoffs with a roll of his eyes. he starts laughing along with her, shoving her things into the backseat of his car. “as i was saying, because it’s your birthday, i’m giving you 2 options: to drive my car, or to not.”

he flashes her his car keys, dangling them high enough in the air for her to not reach them.

“i’m getting spoiled this year with options,” she laughs, jumping into the air to snatch the key out of logan’s hands. “i wouldn’t turn down the chance to drive your car and send you into cardiac arrest.”

she walks around logan to run over to the driver’s side of the car. “don’t forget to wear your seatbelt.”

“i wouldn’t ever dare if you’re the one driving.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @localwhoore @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo

[kookidough]

analysing vance hopper because he lives in my head 24/7 !

tw for like. literally everything the black phone covers!!!!!!

also there's some special effects gore rather far down in the post idk just i feel like i should warn you just in case

okay so before anyones like "but bee!!!! he only had 6 minutes of screen time in a 102 minute long movie!!!!! he was only on screen for 5.8% of the movie!!!!!" and to that i say i Know it was a real tragedy so a lot of this will be built on personal interpretation and subtext and stuff said behind the scenes and whatnot

so firstly i wanna rot about what his childhood/upbringing might've been like..... i havent quite decided on something definitive but i think we can take one look at his character and realise that is glaringly obvious he had a bad childhood, in one interview the actor that plays him (brady hepner) says "the background i had set up for vance is that the reason he was the way he was is his home life was fairly difficult, you know maybe his dad was either not there for him or he wasn't supportive, maybe he was fairly abusive, and so that creates a hair trigger sense of rage in vance" hair trigger meaning his patience is literally as thin as a strand of hair it does Not take a lot for him to snap

there more to it after that which i'll get into soon but yea thats the gist of it it's clear he had absent/neglectful/abusive parents and that would certainly contribute to why he's so angry all the time, maybe acting so explosive was the only way to get his parents' attention, either good or bad, so he just internalised that. obviously rage and anger issues like vance's lead to violence (not in all cases but in his case it does) and i think a neglectful and abusive upbringing would obviously expose him to more violence than a normal childhood would, therefore normalising it and desensitising him to it, whether he's seeing it play out in his own home and/or on television or something like that (because i doubt his parents would be the kind to monitor what content he's viewing)

i feel like he has little control over his life and that only adds to his anger, which in his case leads to a fight when his buttons are pushed too many times. i think he probably takes great pride in being the toughest in town and whatnot and winning fights and being perceived as strong and scary is good to him and helps him regain control/power, something he doesnt have at home. the rest of the quote from the interview i mentioned earlier states "this pinball machine could have been the only thing that he has in his heart that's like, good, like 'holy cow i did this, i set the score,' so when someone comes along and messes it up for him, it takes away the only thing that he has. i think that that's when he switches to a 'now you're gonna pay for that'"

similar to what i said about fighting, the pinball machine and his high score is something he has control over and its an important part of his reputation/image like. hes literally pinball vance ! and the whole thing about that high score being the "only thing he has in his heart that's good" implies that hes. well. pretty shit at everything else, which is pretty much canon if you remember that gwen said vance was held back twice in school. makes me think that while he's not the brightest in school he's certainly street smart

moving onto ermmmmm him getting kidnapped era because im sure youre wondering "well bee if he's so street smart then why did he get kidnapped" so may i raise two theories (this is. literally all i got and its not even concrete, me and my friend gray (@staggersz) tried to figure out how this could even happen and this is the most plausible thing we've got. so shoutout to him real quick he has had to deal with me being unnormal about vance for like a year and a half thanks king couldnt have done all this without my rotting buddy)

so either he got taken by surprise (most likely option) or vance's trust was gained first via getting given quarters at the pinball machine and small talk and shit like that but this is unlikely because i feel like it'd take a loooooong time for someone like vance to trust a some random stranger adult man when he clearly has issues with trusting and respecting people older than him and people with authority (e.g. cops, his parents, or school officials) so yea being taken by surprise would probably be the most realistic option, i always see people on tiktok being like "how did the grabber kidnap vance hes so strong!!!!" dude its a 15 year old boy against like. a 45 year old man who's already claimed two lives its really not gonna be a fair fight here

before i get into the next part i wanna quickly address a theory i absolutely Hate and it is so easily disproven and that is the theory that vance is the grabber's son or is related to him in some other way and i see it Far too often on tiktok and i HATE it. from what ive seen this all stems from his dream sequence where he kicks open the fence to albert's house and, presumably, goes inside after being dropped off by the police after the grab n go fight. idk if some people just straight up didnt realise this but clearly in real life he is going to his Own House??? in the dream it's only albert's house because this is how he chooses to show gwen the house she's trying to find her brother in, the house that he himself was killed in??? i hate the theory i hate it sm

the dream sequence itself is interesting though as the ghosts seem to only be able to conjure up what theyve seen in real life (like how bruce can picture the outside of the house and show that to gwen but the house number is all flipped and not right beause he doesnt know it) so vance being able to picture the house and the number and the gate and every detail would imply that hes seen it before, but im going to explain that away as either he got out once before like with finney's failed escape attempt, or the house is most likely on the route he walks to school or the grab n go or something and he hasnt actually been there prior to being kidnapped

mini rant over now onto being kidnapped i guess, so i used the missing posters to try and estimate a timeline of how long each ghost boy would've been in the basement for (although the missing posters are notoriously unreliable for details such as looks/height/age/etc, the dates seem to all line up). so we know the order is griffin, billy, vance, bruce, robin, finney, right?? if we use the poster date then billy was taken on may 4th, 1976, a month and two days after griffin was taken (april 2nd 1976). vance was taken on september 23rd 1977, almost a full year later (stay with me im going somewhere with this), and after that bruce was taken on july 18th 1978, again almost a full year later

its established in the movie that the grabber stalks his victims before he takes them (canon because we literally see the van watching finney and gwen as they walk home from school early on in the movie) but we dont know how long he does this for since griffin/billy and robin/finney were taken such short distances apart and then the others were taken such long distances apart, also it's possible he could stalk his next victim while the previous one is still alive, etc etc lots of confusing factors, but if i've done the maths right then the absolute maximum time vance could've spent down there is 9 months and 25 days, or 298 days, so erm . let that sink in !

howeverrrr in the movie gwen states that vance went missing "last spring" and september is definitely not in spring, meaning he could've been down there for a year or even longer. an explanation or excuse i could think of for the movie and the missing poster saying different things (other than the missing posters being known for some areas being wildly inaccurate) is that maybe he was taken in spring but wasnt labelled as officially missing until september, when he was properly linked to griffin and billy's similar disappearances and the mysterious grabber? i can imagine it'd be very easy for law enforcement, especially in the 70s, to dismiss someone like vance as a runaway until they get solid evidence that he was taken. idk though thats just my personal excuse / angsty headcanon for the difference in information

not sure what exactly killed him but we do hear from vance himself that "he took his time with me" so it was probably blood loss from a variety of injuries, if we look at him in his ghost scenes we can see his hair is absolutely covered in blood which indicates head injury, he clearly has a broken nose and bruising around his eyes as a result of it, he has these deep cuts on his abdomen area (apologies for the image quality but i believe they're like. sfx pieces you would wear under clothing)

and he also has just like. minor bruising (like the fingerprints on his arm) and other random blood splatters on his face and neck (assuming the blood down his neck comes from wherever he was bleeding on his head) so Yeah overall very unpleasant way to die obviously

okay now the part thats actually in the movie and it only took me 13 paragraphs to get here: vance as a ghost!! first thing i wanna point out is appearance wise i just want to say that when he's a ghost he's missing his choker and that fact Pains me. anyway personality-wise i feel like being violently murdered has, understandably, kicked his rage up to like. the highest level it could possibly go. he's insanely snarky and downright rude to finney on the phone, showing no empathy to the fact that finney is literally in the exact situation he was in

i feel like the whole "this is the nightmare end of your pathetic little life" and "if you knew what you had coming, you'd be fucking terrified" thing is definitely to scare finney on purpose and to get him to do something, vance might as well have just told him he's never going home cuz thats how it came across LMAOO, it is startling though because vance is clearly speaking from experience, that he was literally fucking terrified, and he is warning finney in his own weird way

the thing i think sets vance apart from the other ghosts is that while he does help finney, he does it for a different reason than they do. the other ghosts want finney to escape, to get out, to be free, to live, but personally i dont think vance cares about that. the only thing he wants is for albert shaw to be dead, for someone to seek vengeance, to do what vance couldn't. vance doesn't care if it's bruce or robin or finney or whatever boy could've come after that, he doesnt care as long as that man gets what he deserves after what he put vance through, and i see this through the scene at the end of vance's call where finney thanks him for his help and vance says, and i quote, "helping you? this isn't about you, fuck him! and apologies for being repetitive but to me it just literally proves that to vance, this isnt about finney or his escape, its just about revenge

we dont get to find out what happens to the ghosts once the credits have rolled, and i dont think we quite know enough about tbp's version of ghosts to guess what theyre up to, but i have a few theories :3 maybe theyre no longer bound to those two houses and they can now go anywhere they want in town? or maybe since their shared goal of stopping albert has been achieved, the ghosts can finally pass on to whatever is waiting for them next. i dont think vance would be content to pass on that quickly or easily as anger lingers, but i hope he'd be able to let go of it eventually, and hey we might find out in the sequel. i pray it mentions him cuz i will just die if it doesnt

sometimes, ok thats a lie, frequently i think about an au where he survived or escaped or whatever but ohhhh boy this post is already a train wreck so that au would deserve its own essay of a post :3 if u actually genuinely read this far then Wtf thanks for reading the ramblings of an absolute madman, only pure delusion could get like 20 paragraphs about a guy with 6 minutes screentime but hey thats how i roll, thanks again to my pal gray for letting me rot and thank u to my other pal ana for also enduring all this rot

hope u enjoyed my interpretation of vance hopper im going to crawl in a hole now and probably brainrot some more, thanks again for ur time :3