#i also love talking about him so!! THANK YOU FOR THE OPPORTUNITY

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Two of a Kind 8

Masterlist

NO TAGS. Don’t ask.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; manipulation; criminal behaviour; cumplay/creampie, talk of contraception; written for smut, just being honest. Not all elements will be tagged/warned.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dark!Ransom Drysdale and dark!Modern Charles Blackwood. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business.

Note: :)

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. ��

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.

Ransom paces. He’s agitated. Charles always has to be the big man. Always has to be in control. That’s not how this works. This is a partnership. They are equal, in all their gains. It’s why they’re so efficient. 

So how come he’s out in the cold and Charlie Boy is cuddled up nice and close with the kitty. He bets he’s in there getting a double dip. Fucking unbelievable. 

Ransom snarls and flops onto the couch. His satin boxers tickle his tip and he hardens. He hasn’t fully calmed down. Every time he thinks about how she squeezed him, he tingles and twitches. Fuck, that was good. Who would’ve thought?  

He sighs and stands up. He charges down the hall to Charles’ room then stops. He strides back to the front room and retraces his steps a second time. He snarls and cracks his neck. They had a fucking deal. They share. So why is he in there hogging her all to himself? 

He closes his eyes and pictures her shivering in the tub. The tears streaked down her cheeks and the glistening, sticky aftermath of fucking all over her skin. The way he covered her has him fully hard. Fuck it, he’s not waiting until morning. 

He turns the handle and swings the door inward. The room is dark. He can smell the chamomile. Charles’ snores rumble in the dark. He always sounded like a pig in heat when he slept. Ransom slows as his eyes adjust to the dim. 

He sees her squirm. She’s under Charles’ arm. He thinks she’s awake, he swears he can feel her eyes on him. He nears quietly, placing each foot carefully, and bends over the side of the bed. He measures’ his accomplices snores. 

He runs his fingertips down her arm and wraps his fingers around her wrist. He’s lucked out and he’s not gonna pass up the prime opportunity. He tugs her and she whimpers. He hisses out a hush. She gulps and slides out from beneath the blankets and Charles’ arm. 

Ransom stops and pulls her to him as the other man grumbles and shifts onto his stomach. He puts his hand over her mouth to quiet her gasp and she presses flush to him. She’s still naked. 

He turns her and walks her toward the door. He ushers her into the hall as she awkwardly mimics his steps. He reaches back to close the door and she whines. 

“Please, I’m tired--” 

“Shut up,” he snarls. “You can sleep, I’ll still fuck you.” 

“But... Ransom... I... I thought you liked me--” 

He chuckles, sure to keep it low. He nudges her down the hall. He points over her shoulder. 

“I like what you can give me. Well, more what you have. By nature, really. Nothing special but those holes do the job,” he smacks her ass and reaches past her to open his bedroom door. “So why don’t you show them off for me, baby.” 

She curls her shoulders, looking even smaller, and his balls throb. He feels full even though he was aching moments ago. Been a while since he felt so... ready. Usually, he just rolls over and prays he wakes up to an empty bed. 

She hesitates and looks around. He huffs. She’s a bit stupid. Her fear gets him going but it’s also fucking annoying.  

He marches up and grabs the back of her neck. He urges her to the end of the bed and guides her to kneel on the cushioned bench, like a fucking dog. Mm, he likes that. She’s his. His obedient little pet. 

Her back racks visibly as she quivers. He gets behind her and pushes down his boxers, the fabric catching on his swollen tip. He growls and stretches the elastic past his length. He lets the satin fall to his feet and grabs her hip. 

He steps closer and presses his tip along your ass. He smears around the precum already trickling out and shudders. His entire body pulses at the sensation.  

The surge drives him. He bends his knees and leans over her. She whines as he traces down past her ring, a moment of intrigue before he finds her cunt. Charles wouldn’t forgive him if he took her ass without him. 

He glides between her swollen folds and feels her flinches. He groans and rubs against her cunt. He pushes against her opening and she drones as she tenses. Her body resists his intrusion but it only goads him on. 

He snaps his hips and breaks through. She cries out and he once more brings his hand to her mouth. He puts his other on the bench as he bends over her and thrusts again. It takes several tilts for him to bottom out as she sobs into his palm. 

Her agony fills him with smoky delight. Fuck. Her walls throb, milking him as he tries to fight the pressure. He can’t blow already. 

He rolls his hips slowly, enjoying the feeling of her around him, so tight and slick, then the tingle of the naked air around him as he pulls out. In, out. He stands up, bringing her with him, and watches himself pump into her. Shit. Don’t, don’t, don’t. 

He exhales away the swell and carries on. He covers half her face with his hand and ruts harder and harder, pausing after each rippling slap of skin. He leans his head back as his eyes roll into his skull. Her fractured voice is smothered by his palm and she quakes uncontrollably at his mercy. 

He spasms as he erupts, unable to hold it in any longer. He fills her up as he fucks his cum into her until it squelches and leaks out. Even then, he doesn’t stop. He could keep her on him forever. 

👄

You stare at Ransom’s back. Your insides crawl and threaten to spill over. You stare at his muscles, the power woven through them, and you feel the weakness in you. 

His breath rises and falls as you lay in the soft hue cast through the window. You suppress a groan as you turn onto your back. It takes all you have to sit up. You hunch over and touch your pelvis as it scalds.  

You nearly stumble out of the bed. You limp to the door and glance back at his sleeping figure, focusing on him to make sure he isn’t awake. You slip through the door, leaving it slightly open, and creep down the hall. 

Your clothes are still on the floor. You dress in the grim night shade. The friction of fabric on your skin makes you wretch. You can’t stand even that. You never want to be touched again. 

You find your shoes and bag by the door. You stop to listen to the house as you put your coat on. You take out your phone before you flip back the lock. You sneak out into the whipping gales and steel yourself for the walk home. At least, you hope you find your way back. 

You open your maps app and follow the small blue arrow through the desolate night time. Each step is torture. When you trip off a curb, you feel it inside. 

You cry again, here and there, replaying the night in your head. Reliving your own mistakes. How could you ever believe Ransom? You really thought he was into you... 

Your mom can’t know. She’d be horrified. Or... what if she doesn’t believe you? 

That hurts more than anything they did to you. No one would believe you. If they did, they’d say it was your fault. You went to his house, you stayed there with both of them, you didn’t fight hard enough. No, you let them use you. 

You stop and sit on a bench. You know this part of town. You’re just too tired to keep going. You just need a minute. Or two. Or three. 

It takes you a while to get up again. Shivering, you watch the battery on your phone drain. You put it away as you recognise the street signs. It’s like a maze as you struggle to push through the pain and the blistering wind. 

You just want to go home and forget tonight. Forget it like it never happened. 

As you reach your front door, you fumble for the keys. You ease inside, keeping your steps soft and sitting to take off your boots. You hug your bag, huddling over it, and shuffle down the hall. The light flicks on above you. 

You blanch as your mother’s voice calls after you. You inhale and face her, hoping she can’t see your sadness. You force a smile. 

“Mom...” 

“There you are,” she says. “I’ve been waiting all night. I thought you’d be home before me.” 

“I’m sorry, mom, I... I lost track of time--” 

“You couldn’t call, or message?” 

“I know, mom. I—I—” You stutter. “I’m an adult.” 

She scoffs, “I know that but I worry.” 

“It’s okay--” 

“Okay? Out all night with a boy. You never know what could happen.” 

You sniffle, “mom.” 

“I’m just trying to look out for you, honey.” She girds and lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry, but... I’m just glad you’re safe.” 

She comes forward and you tremble. You want so desperately to hug her and cry against her. No, like you said, you’re an adult, you made this decision. 

“Well, did you have fun?” She asks. 

The question nearly bowls you over. You stare at her dumbly and shrug. She smiles and snickers, “oh, you don’t have to tell me everything.” 

Good, because you’re not telling her anything. 

[avonne-writes]

This hit me in the soft squishy parts :( I feel for Bucky so much. I know they're both hurting, but with Bucky's initial attempt at actual proper communication and Gale's very visceral reaction it must really feel like whiplash after Gale teaching him how to do that in the first place - not to mention triggering his abandonment issues.

Is there anything you'd like to share about how Bucky feels during this time about Gale's behaviour?

Who is it that raises divorce as a possibility?

You don't have to answer all or any of this of course, but I do love this au so much.

Re: this post

Thank you so much for the questions, I like discussing these more serious topics. ❤️ I could talk about this for several pages, but I tried to summarize some key points.

Yes, absolutely - while Gale feels like he has been betrayed, his visceral reaction is like a slap in turn. Bucky doesn’t expect it. It hurts him, and he finds it unfair.

During this fight, Bucky's confidence takes a big blow. He doesn’t know anymore if he can predict Gale's reaction to things as surely as he used to think he could. He wants to backtrack (his need to appease Gale) but he also doesn’t (his need to have a conversation). All the personal development he has gone through is now up against his fears and insecurities. Should he back down or risk losing everything?

But he also feels guilty, because yes, he knows that Gale doesn’t want kids and yes, in 15 years of a relationship, Bucky never once told him that his desire to have one (or a few) has been growing over the years. He never thought to push the subject seriously - the most he did was telling Gale he'd be a cute dad and letting Gale brush it off with a playful "come off it".

It feels like something so easily avoided going terribly wrong. An issue that he now thinks he could have prevented with easy changes in the past, but younger Bucky and Gale didn’t have the foresight, nor did it seem easy at the time to act any differently. Bucky at 17, 18, 22 was more likely to just go with the flow in general and he truly convinced himself that he didn’t really want kids either. And once you aligned yourself with something, it’s harder to express a change of opinion than to choose the other option in the first place. Bucky marinates in this guilt, regret and helplessness cycle during the fight.

At the same time, once the conflict is well underway, he's really angry with Gale for acting out. He knows Gale's petty side very well but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with it. Whenever Gale gives him the cold shoulder or fucks off on his bike, Bucky wants to scream at him or punch something.

When they actively fight, it gets really painful sometimes and grows past the issue of whether they want to have children or not. They need to apologize for the things they throw at each other's heads during these fights before they could move on to the actual discussion.

And then, of course, Bucky continues feeling a lot of love for Gale, and he longs for him constantly during this time. Not for angry, hurt Gale, but for the Gale who pulls Bucky's head to his chest, holds him close and murmurs the nicest things until the world feels bearable again. The Gale who sets up an opportunity for one of Bucky's silly jokes and then laughs as if he didn’t expect it. The Gale who asks him if Bucky really thinks he’s good enough for NASA, the Gale who smiles into his coffee when he feels Bucky's eyes on him.

Bucky has emotional support from Curt (and his mom, but he doesn’t want to share the issue with her), but nevertheless, these complicated emotions are not easy to deal with.

They never say the word "divorce" to each other. Gale never even implies it during the fight, but they both think about it, Bucky with fear and Gale with despair. Bucky's the one who acknowledges that it hangs between them, but he always calls it "leaving". Gale understands it all the same.

[donttxtathebeach]

Y/n Nolan & Drew Starkey | Actors on Actors

word count: 9.3K

warning: talks of childhhod, growing up in hollywood

behind the scenes:

Y/n and Drew sit down for variety's actors on actors for a candid conversation to reflect on their careers, their personal journeys through Hollywood

Y/n Nolan & Drew Starkey | Actors on Actors

Y/n Nolan  (‘Anora’) and Drew Starkey (‘Queer’) sit down for a candid conversation to reflect on their careers, their personal journeys through Hollywood, and the roles that have defined them. The discussion touches on y/n’s breakthrough at a young age and the vast array of work she has accomplished, including playing some of the most iconic characters in contemporary horror films. At the same time, Drew opens up about his experience working with legendary actor Daniel Craig, along with his struggle to avoid being pigeonholed into a particular role.

Intro

“Blimey hell, Drew, did you ask him about James Bond?” Y/n says, her voice rich with a classic English lilt, so natural and effortless that it feels like the words are floating out with ease. Her eyes, framed by her signature striking features, twinkle with mischief. “Knowing Daniel, I’m sure he loved it.”

Drew looks slightly amused, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “He just kind of started talking about it,” he says, as though it was a conversation that naturally rolled into place—nothing forced, just genuine moments spilling out.

“That sounds like Daniel,” Y/n replies knowingly, her tone dripping with a fondness that only comes from knowing someone for years. Her voice softens as she adds, “He’s very much like that. A bit of a showman, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Some were fake,” Drew quips with a grin, half-joking, half-posing it as an inside joke.

“Just say they’re real,” she teases, a playful glint in her eyes. Her smile is wide and charming, her tone teasing but warm.

“They’re all real,” Drew responds with a smile that broadens into a full, cheeky grin. “Everything. Everything’s real.”

Jazzy, upbeat music plays briefly as they both settle into the conversation, the camera cutting back to them with soft light casting a flattering glow on their faces.

Drew leans in slightly, his tone sincere as he admires Y/n. “Wow, you’re even more beautiful in person. I must say, I am such a big fan of your work. I mean, you’re only 25, have 5 Oscars, 9 Emmys, and you just won a Golden Globe—that’s incredible.”

Her laughter rings out, clear and melodic, as she blushes at the lavish compliment. She tucks a strand of her platinum blonde hair behind her ear, clearly caught off guard by the sheer number of accolades he listed. “Wow, all this flattery—thank you so much. Truly, it means so much,” she says, the sincerity of her words tempered by a humble laugh. Her eyes shine with appreciation but also with a touch of disbelief that all these accolades are being attributed to her.

“Drew Starkey,” she continues, her tone shifting slightly to more familiar ground, “it is a pleasure to see you again.” Y/n extends her hand toward him, her touch elegant and graceful. There’s no pretense, just an open gesture of respect and camaraderie.

“Likewise, Miss Nolan,” Drew replies with equal warmth. His voice, smooth and composed, betrays a deep level of respect for the woman in front of him. He meets her eyes with a hint of admiration, which speaks volumes about the genuine rapport they share.

“This is funny to me,” she starts, her expression turning playful again. “I was talking to Daniel the other day, we ran into eachother at some coffee shop, about how we’re doing this interview, and he’s like, ‘Drew cannot talk to women to save his life, especially pretty ones like yourself.’ But you seem fine,” she says, teasing Drew with a smirk, clearly enjoying the moment of light-hearted banter.

Drew bursts out laughing, the sound filling the air around them. “Well, it is good to see you. We met, what, a couple of weeks ago?” He flashes a grin, clearly enjoying the opportunity to revisit their brief encounter.

“Yes, we did—quite briefly though,” y/n answers, her voice dipping slightly as she recalls their first interaction. “We stopped mid-conversation because you were like, ‘Let’s save it, but it was in a respectful way since i also had to go.’”

“Yeah,” Drew agrees, nodding thoughtfully. “’Cause we knew we were talking here. Well, at least I… knew,” he says, laughing again, a little sheepishly as he recalls how the timing of their first conversation worked out.

“In all honesty,” y/n adds with a laugh, “you told me, and I just looked at you funny because I had not been aware of that at all yet.” She tilts her head, her eyes wide with playful disbelief. Her laughter is contagious, and the moment feels entirely spontaneous and genuine, like two friends catching up after a long time apart.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I could tell that was your first time hearing about it, so I paused our conversation,” Drew says, shaking his head slightly, as if amused by how little he was able to prepare her for the interview. His voice has a smooth cadence, almost as if he’s recalling a funny memory.

“How are you doing?” Drew asks, his voice softer now, shifting from the playful banter to a more grounded, sincere tone. He leans in slightly, interested in how she has  been feeling lately, his warm gaze making it clear that the question is about more than just small talk.

she smiles warmly, her posture softening as she responds. “I’m doing quite well, love. I had a lovely iced latte this morning,” she starts, almost savoring the memory of a peaceful morning moment. She gestures as if bringing Drew into the picture, sharing the simple pleasure of the experience.

“What did you get, honey?” Drew asks, the nickname rolling off his lips effortlessly. It’s both sweet and casual, the kind of endearing phrase one uses for close friends.

she lets out a soft laugh, her eyes sparkling as she recalls her morning ritual. “Well, I got coffee with my dearest friend, Elle Fanning, and we went to our favorite coffee shop in LA, i will tell you the name later because i would like to keep it priavate. I love a good iced latte, but I got a Maple Sea Salt Latte. It had Vermont maple syrup simmered with sea salt, and it was just lovely,” she says, her words painting a vivid picture. Her voice is warm and relaxed, and as she describes the drink, it feels as though she’s sharing a secret joy—something small yet meaningful that anchored her day.

Drew, listening intently, can’t help but admire her ability to convey even the smallest moments with such grace. “That sounds amazing,” he responds, a note of awe in his voice. He’s caught up in the moment, picturing the maple syrup and sea salt melding together, and the sense of peace Abbie must’ve felt.

“How about you? How has everything been going for you?” y/n asks, her voice turning softer now, laced with genuine curiosity. She leans in a little closer, her eyes searching his face, not just as a co-worker but as someone who truly cares.

“It’s good. It’s good,” Drew replies, his tone calm but content. “I’m here in LA, which is nice. Have a little break for a little while.” He leans back in his chair, allowing the conversation to breathe, a small smile forming on his lips as he speaks about the rare respite. He looks at her as if he’s grateful for the moment of stillness amidst his busy schedule.

Y/n nods understandingly, her eyes glinting with empathy. “I can imagine,” she says. “A break must feel like a gift in this crazy world.”

The warmth between them is palpable, an ease that only comes from two people who understand the delicate balance of life in the industry—the highs, the lows, and everything in between. The conversation feels like a dance, full of humor, sincerity, and the kind of bond that only two actors who’ve lived through similar experiences can share.

As they continue, the camera zooms out slightly, capturing the intimate yet casual nature of their conversation, the kind of dialogue that could easily stretch on for hours, full of laughter, reflection, and shared understanding.

“You’re from North Carolina, correct?” y/n asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she recalls a conversation they had before.

“yes I’m from North Carolina, yeah,” Drew answers casually, his tone easy and open, as though he’s prepared to dive deeper into his past.

“What’s that like? Tell me, because I’m actually going to be shooting a film out there quite soon that’s supposed to be set in North Carolina,” she says, her curiosity piqued. The excitement in her voice is genuine—she’s always had an affinity for learning about the places people call home.

“Yes. I’m not from the coast,” Drew begins, the words rolling out slowly as he paints the picture of his roots. “I’m from up in the mountains, kind of… Appalachia—like Southern Appalachia, in the Blue Ridge Mountains,” he continues, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. He pauses for a second, taking in the magnitude of where he’s from.

Just then, a phone starts to ring loudly in the background. Both her and Drew burst out laughing, the sound infectious. The video cuts briefly to black, then cuts back in, a moment of light-heartedness shared between them.

“So, North Carolina,” Y/n picks up again, smiling at the minor distraction, her voice still warm with interest. “Yeah, Southern Appalachia, like up in the mountains. Asheville, North Carolina area. It’s beautiful up there. Very different, though,” Drew finishes, nodding thoughtfully.

She  leans forward slightly, her interest clearly piqued. “Tell me a little bit more about Asheville because, in terms of the arts and our world, what does that mean for you growing up?” she asks, her tone sincere. She’s eager to hear how his environment influenced his journey into acting.

Drew smiles, the memories flooding back as he continues. “Strangely, it’s kind of a strange… you know, it’s, I grew up in a very rural area. There’s not a lot around. Kind of these little communities up in the mountains are very… the arts are everywhere,” he begins, the words coming slowly as he reflects on how his hometown shaped him.

“I grew up going to—there was theater, and…” He trails off for a moment, searching for the right words, but y/n quickly picks up on the thread.

“Oh,” she interjects, her face lighting up with recognition.

“Live music, and yeah, it’s strange, you know,” Drew continues, his eyes lighting up as he recalls his childhood. “And then, of course, you’re kind of smack dab in the middle of a national forest. Like, there’s nothing going on. But yeah, I was constantly surrounded by art and artists growing up. Without, like, any… any… you know, there was no kind of accessibility to doing it professionally. It wasn’t like that. It was just—it was kind of around us,” he finishes, his voice trailing off as he reflects on the seemingly paradoxical nature of his upbringing.

y/n  nods in understanding, her expression thoughtful. “I get that,” she says, empathizing with Drew’s description of growing up in an environment full of artistic influence but without the means to pursue it professionally.

“But you grew up in… are you from London?” Drew asks curios, picking up hints of an accenet, shifting gears a bit, intrigued by her background.

“No, I’m actually from Nantucket,” she replies, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It’s actually quite an interesting story. So, my dad was from London, but his family  moved to chicago but still went back and forth from there to london. He  then moved to San Diego met my mom, and then they moved to Nantucket and had me,” she explains, the story rolling off her tongue effortlessly. She seems content, even amused, by the twist of fate that brought her into the world.

Drew, intrigued, leans in slightly, his expression warm. “Wow, that’s a lot of moving around,” he says, the tone of his voice more reflective.

“Yeah,” she continues, her smile softening. “When I was five, things happened,so its just been him and i since then i guess , but i have an accent because i picked it up from my dad’s family , I guess. It’s sort of faded over time,” she adds, a small chuckle escaping her lips. There’s no bitterness in her voice—just an acknowledgment of the path her life took.

“Tell me more about yourself, beautiful,” Drew says, his voice sincere, but also filled with curiosity. His admiration for her is palpable, but there’s a warmth that speaks of genuine interest.

Y/n  lets out a soft laugh, her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. “I’m what you call a ‘nepo baby,’ I presume,” she begins, her voice light but honest. “Means I’ve been acting since I was around four or five. My dad is a director, but, um, well, when my mom left, he sort of took a step back and raised me all by himself—taking me to everything I was shooting or my dance classes. But we were still living in Nantucket,” she shares, her eyes glimmering with a quiet vulnerability as she recounts her childhood.

“You were a dancer?” Drew asks, his voice filled with genuine interest.

“Yes, oh my gosh, I loved ballet,” she responds, her face lighting up at the thought of it. “If I wasn’t an actress, I would want to be a ballerina. I take classes occasionally for fun when I’m on breaks, but haven’t lately,” she adds wistfully, as if she misses the discipline and art form of ballet.

Drew grins, clearly delighted by her enthusiasm. “I love that. It’s always so cool to see someone so passionate about something.”

“How was school for you while doing all of this?” Drew asks, his curiosity continuing as he leans forward, intrigued by how she balanced everything as a child.

“I actually… my nan, my dad’s mum, she taught me—or I was taught on set ,” y/n answers, her expression softening at the thought of her grandmother. “Sort of well homeschooled in my elementary age. Then when we moved to California I started going to the same high school as Elle , but it was not easy  because everyone was constantly harassing me, and it just was trying to get something from me, but Elle never did. i di dnot end up going to college, clearly” she explains, her voice tinged with the fatigue of that early experience.

Drew nods sympathetically. “That must’ve been tough,” he says quietly, understanding the pressure that comes with growing up in the public eye.

“What about you? Did you finish school or even college?” she asks Drew, her voice curious, switching the focus back onto him.

“I did, I did. I finished college,” Drew answers, the tone of his voice indicating that this part of his life was a bit more straightforward. “I spent probably, I mean, three out of the four years trying to leave as much as I could,” he adds with a rueful chuckle, the humor in his voice undeniable.

“You know, I mean, what—you know, I think everybody has stuff that they look back on. They’re like, ‘Oh, my God,’” Drew continues, his voice light but reflective. “But yes, I mean, school—it offered me, I don’t know, ways on how to operate, and test yourself within a bubble, and then kind of go out into the world. To me, it was pretty invaluable, but my younger sister Brooke would say she learned a lot and liked it,” he finishes, his smile widening slightly as he thinks about his sister’s perspective on their shared experience.

Y/n  listens intently, her expression softening with understanding. “I get that,” she says. “You find value in everything, even the things you think you wouldn’t.”

“Tell me about Anora. How was that? How was that transition since you’ve been deemed the queen of horror movies?” Drew asks, his voice laced with genuine curiosity as he leans forward, eager to learn more about her latest project.

She  smiles, the excitement in her eyes matching Drew’s. “Well, I’m so lucky to be in a film like this,” she begins, her tone soft and grateful. “And I’m so lucky to have had such guidance from someone like my dad, and the Fanning sisters. They’ve been my biggest supporters, having become best friends with Elle on set when I was little, because she was working with my dad. We became inseparable. I was four, she was five,” y/n continues, a slight nostalgia coloring her voice as she reflects on her childhood friendship with Elle Fanning.

“But to be in the place that I am right now… it does feel… it feels surreal. I don’t know, some of it doesn’t quite feel real at times,” she admits, her smile bittersweet as she reflects on the magnitude of her career.

Drew nods, understanding the surreal nature of being in the spotlight for so long. “Filming Anora, oh my gosh,” she adds, her voice tinged with excitement. “I mean, it was completely different for me. You would think by now, in the 20 years I’ve been doing this, I would’ve been in a film like this before, but my genres never aligned with this film—mostly horror or mystery. So being in a drama/rom-com, whatever you want to classify it as, is quite new to me,” she laughs, the sound light and full of joy.

Drew chuckles along with her. “I mean, you worked for Quentin Tarantino and Sean Baker. So, did they pursue you? Did you see the script? Did you audition? How was that jump after working on Maxine?” he asks, genuinely fascinated by how these big-name directors came to cast her.

Y/n’s expression shifts, her thoughts going back to how she got involved with Anora. “So for Anora, Sean had gone and seen Pearl,” she begins, her tone steady, almost like she’s recounting a well-known story.

Drew looks intrigued. “And he went and saw it?” he asks, seeking clarification.

“Yes, he was invited to the premiere. And I think he was already sort of thinking about the plot for Anora,” she  responds, her smile growing a little as she recalls the moment. “And he cast me in it just from the film. So, it was the easiest casting process I’ve ever had to go through. I’ve never had to not audition for something before, which to me was absurd, but I was also working on Maxxine already, so I made him aware that I would have to be jumping around from set to set,” she explains, a hint of pride in her voice. “But he was pretty adamant on wanting me to play Ani.”

Drew’s interest piques further, and he asks, “So I’m curious to know, what was your preparation like physically for that?”

Y/n  considers his question carefully before answering. “Honestly, going into it because I was also filming Maxxine, I could use some of the things I had already learned from shooting Maxxine and incorporate it into Anora,” she begins. “And there were pole tricks that I wanted to learn, so I started developing my skills with that. It was an exciting process because I was getting to know a new character, but since i have a dance background already it helped shape her in a way. With Maxxine, it was following the storyline of Pearl, and I had already been immersed in her from playing her in X and Pearl, so it was so fun for me to get to understand and dive into a new character,” she says, her enthusiasm growing as she describes her deep commitment to her craft.

She  pauses for a moment, reflecting more on her preparation. “Really trying to get to immerse myself in who she is, understand her morals,” she continues. “I asked myself lots of questions about her. I wanted to really go into depth and more detail than I ever have before. So, like, I would know everything about her—like what cigarettes she smokes, what her school life was like, what her relationship with her parents is.”

Drew watches her intently, clearly impressed by the depth of her process. “Wow, that’s so in-depth,” he says.

Y/m  smiles and continues, “So when I got to Sean’s set, because he’s such an organic filmmaker, I wanted someone to ask me a question about my character and me always be able to answer it. And so I feel like I got to a place where I got there, and then obviously, I had to learn as much Russian as possible and the dialect.”

She lets out a small laugh. “So I just did little things at a time. And I think it sort of, over the course of five months, built up to this fully formed character.”

Drew laughs softly. “I bet your dad was relieved that you finally got a break since you’re the queen of horror,” he teases, enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment.

She  laughs along, nodding. “Oh gosh, when I told him about X, he was like, ‘Oh wow, that’s a big leap,’ especially since my childhood and high school years, I was in like, more family-friendly, teeny-bopper things. Then when I hit 18, everyone was like, ‘She looks made for horror movies,’ and I just sort of rolled with it.”

She pauses, her smile growing warmer as she reflects on her father’s support. “But he has always been my biggest supporter. He always gives me pointers, and I don’t know, he just never really had an issue with any role that I have done thus far,” she says, her voice soft and sincere. “I mean, he was like, ‘You’re a grown adult, you know your limits, I’m just going to be here every step of the way cheering you on.’ Even when he was filming and just directing, he was supporting me in some way, so that always meant so much to me,” she tells Drew, her voice full of gratitude.

Drew nods appreciatively, touched by the deep bond she shares with her father. “That’s amazing,” he says. “Having that kind of support makes all the difference in the world.”

Y/m  smiles, her eyes softening with affection as she recalls the unwavering encouragement she’s always received from her dad. “Yeah, it really does,” she agrees, her voice full of warmth.

What about you? This was such a big leap for you. How was filming something so different?” She asks Drew, her voice filled with excitement, eager to hear about his experience. Her curiosity radiates as she leans in, ready to listen.

Drew nods thoughtfully before answering, “You know, Luca and I talked a lot, and then I didn’t meet Daniel until we were in New York, probably a month before we shot. I met him at the table read, and so it was kind of the meeting, and then we just jumped into reading it out loud.” He pauses, reflecting on the atmosphere. “Luca does a good job of fully painting a picture for you. We also shot it in Rome at Cinecittà,” Drew adds, the excitement in his eyes evident as he recalls the legendary filming location.

She  smiles, clearly impressed. “It’s absolutely darling there,” she says, her enthusiasm matching his as she imagines the stunning backdrop. “Walking through the different stages that the movie is set in. So you kind of walk in, you’re in, you know, these incredible clothes,” Drew continues, his tone animated as he describes the experience. “But we were only there for a bit.”

, intrigued she , leans forward. “Where was the rest of it?” she asks, eager to know more. “Were you actually in the jungle?”

Drew laughs, nodding. “Like a week in Sicily on the coast. They built the set. They brought all these—Luca was like, ‘I want these plants.’ And they brought in, like, I don’t know how many thousands of pounds of whatever, of dirt. And they built a jungle.”

She raises her eyebrows, clearly fascinated. “Well, so they’re real plants?” she asks, wanting the full details.

Drew thinks for a moment before responding, “I think some were real; I think some were fake.” He looks at her with a grin. “Just say they’re real,” she teases, her smile wide as she playfully suggests an easy fix.

“They’re all real. Everything, everything’s real,” Drew says, laughing, caught up in the lighthearted moment.

Y/n  laughs too, enjoying their banter. “But yeah. So that Cinecittà Studios is like—it’s famous. Yeah,” Drew says, proud to have been part of such a historic location.

“This is so intriguing,” she  says, her eyes shining with interest. “It’s always so interesting to hear someone else’s experiences with films and everything.”

Drew nods, his expression reflective. “God, it’s wild. I think walking into that, like, the setting of it was like I knew I was walking into this kind of elevated type of feel in terms of tone. And it’s also not a direct period piece. It’s this kind of Mexico City and South America within the imagination of William S. Burroughs, you know, kind of. There’s something very absurd about it. It’s incredibly surreal and absurd,” he finishes, his voice filled with the intensity of the film’s atmosphere.

, intrigued, she presses further. “How did you understand that, from what, from the way Luca spoke about it? Or from just…” Her curiosity is evident, her expression leaning forward, wanting to grasp every bit of the creative process he’s revealing.

Drew smiles as he thinks about it. “Yeah, I think, I think so. Yeah. In conversations with Luca. I mean, he was very specific about how he wanted the world to feel,” he says, pausing for a moment. Abbie listens intently, clearly drawn to his words.

“He also gave me some visual references, some photography. There are these paintings by Francis Bacon that we looked at. Kinda two lovers. And yeah, so there were all these kinds of visual references, so that was helpful,” Drew continues, watching Abbie as she gets lost in the imagery he’s painting. She seems almost hypnotized by his description, imagining the world he was immersed in.

Y/n  nods slowly, appreciating the thoughtfulness of Drew’s preparation. “But yeah, then Daniel, I think kind of a similar situation,” Drew adds, his voice becoming more reflective. “Daniel and I, there wasn’t a lot of conversation about how we wanted it to feel or, you know, the dirty word—the chemistry between the two of us. It was just kind of exercising it and going for it. So there wasn’t a ton of rehearsal. It was a lot of talking, you know, we did like chatting two weeks prior. Just table reads. ‘Will you be around?’ ‘Yes.’ I think so, yeah,” Drew says, a shrug in his tone as he describes the informal nature of their preparation.

She looks at him, her eyes full of understanding. “Do you like rehearsing?” she asks, shifting the conversation to their own processes.

“I do, especially having worked with so many different people in that way; it allows me to become a lot more comfortable with them in that sense,” she says, her voice soft and thoughtful as she reflects on the role rehearsal plays in her own work.

Drew nods, considering her words. “What about you?” she asks the 31-year-old actor, curious about his own preferences.

“For some things, I don’t,” Drew admits. “I think I get scared of it.” He pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. “Oh, you don't? Tell me about that. How do you navigate it?” She  asks, leaning forward again, her genuine curiosity evident.

Drew looks down for a moment, his voice a little quieter. “I get—I get shy,” he confesses, the vulnerability of the moment hanging between them. She  watches him, her expression one of empathy.

“Yeah?” she asks gently.

“I get shy of saying, ‘Oh, I’ll just do it on the…’ I’ll just, yeah. And then I wouldn’t ever be like, ‘I’m saving it for the take,’ but I’m like, there’s a part of me that’s like, I can’t fully let go until I’m on doing a thing and—there’s something like when you hear ‘action’ or the cameras roll that you’re like, ‘Okay.’” Drew finishes, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he acknowledges the thrill that comes with the real take.

Y//n  laughs softly, understanding exactly what he means. “That is completely understandable. You can kind of hide behind it a little more,” she says with a knowing smile. “As a performer in general, like for me, I mean…” she starts, her voice taking on a more serious tone. She shifts slightly in her seat, crossing her legs, clearly about to share something more personal. “When I was filming X, Pearl, and Maxxine, Pearl was basically an adult film star. So learning how to be comfortable with that—especially having finished the black coat’s daughter —it was weird,” she says, her voice trailing off as she reflects on the challenges she’s faced in her own work.

Drew listens intently, his expression softening as he connects with her openness. “Yeah, that’s got to be a lot,” he responds thoughtfully.

She nods, grateful for the understanding. “It was, but you learn to adapt and grow through the process,” she says, a hint of strength in her voice as she embraces the complexity of her roles. In Anora, you have such a presence always about you,” Drew begins, his voice filled with admiration. “And I think there’s a stillness, confidence, and danger about, like, the way you present yourself on screen always. So I look at you on screen, like, damn, this girl is the most amazing actress I’ve ever…” Drew’s words are warm and genuine, but before he can finish, she laughs, cutting him off.

“Please, all these compliments. You’re making me nervous. Stop looking at me like that,” she says, playfully brushing her hair back and trying to hide the flattery she feels from his compliment. Her voice is light and teasing, but there’s an unmistakable sincerity behind it.

Drew laughs softly, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. “Do you get nervous on set? Do you get nervous working?” he asks, his curiosity genuine as he turns the conversation to something more personal.

She  thinks for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “When I first got cast for X, I was nervous. I mean, I had never really filmed anything that warranted me being a fucking adult film star,” she begins, her voice calm but laced with the vulnerability of recalling a significant moment in her career. “And I was 22, having just finished my first horror film’s back to back , and pearl ,then infinity pool . So having to navigate that aspect, along with how it would intertwine with horror, made me nervous. Because at the end of the day, everyone was going to see me and my body, then oversexualize it, which I had been dealing with since I was 15.”

She  pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “But it has gotten a lot worse over the years, so that is why I was nervous at first,” she adds, the weight of her experiences evident in her voice.

She looks at Drew, smiling a bit as she continues. “But I don’t so much anymore. I think once you understand, and once you feel safe with a crew, and you get, you’re in a rhythm, it all feels like everyone’s on the same path to get the same thing. And so the fear for me goes. If it’s a good environment, the fear goes for me. Because I feel like comfortable and I’m, you know, I can make a fool of myself. If you understand what I’m saying?”

Drew listens intently, appreciating her openness. “What about you, love? Do you?” she asks him, genuinely curious, a warm smile on her face.

“Yeah. Yeah, I definitely do,” Drew responds after a pause. He laughs lightly, the honesty in his voice cutting through the conversation. “That’s why they call it baked Alaska, I imagine. You know, I mean, my, like, heart was racing on the first day.”

Y/n nods, empathizing with him. “Right,” she says, her voice soft but encouraging as she listens to him continue.

Drew leans back slightly, his tone becoming more reflective. “And I usually, I’m usually good about it. I like having a lot of pressure and I like working within that type of environment,” he admits, the intensity in his eyes showing how much he thrives under challenge.

“How so?” She  asks, intrigued.

Drew seems to think about it for a moment, trying to explain a feeling that’s hard to put into words. “It’s like, I don’t know. I think it’s kind of like when you have some expectations, or, or there’s something, you know, there’s—it’s a feeling of like, there’s nothing to lose. Who cares? I love kind of working within a pressure cooker in a way. But, this one, like first day I was like, I bet—like first take, like my heart is like pounding through my chest. Like, I’m not gonna be able to do this.” He laughs a bit at his own admission, looking over at Abbie with a bit of disbelief at how much pressure he’d felt.

“Well, you’ve got Daniel and Luca, these two formidable forces,” she says to him, offering a bit of reassurance with a knowing smile.

Drew chuckles, nodding, but still feeling the weight of the situation. “And so, like, come in and, and, and be like, they’re gonna—they’re gonna know, man. Like, first day they’re gonna, like, find me out. This is not the right—what do we do? We made a mistake,” Drew says sincerely, the anxiety still clear in his voice despite his lighthearted attempt at self-deprecation.

Y/n , however, doesn’t miss a beat, her affection for Drew and his talents apparent. “First of all, Drew, you are so talented,” she says warmly. “I mean, for starters, I should have said this before, but welcome to A24 films—that in itself is groundbreaking,” she adds with a genuine, almost reverent tone. She pauses, her voice filled with admiration. “One thing I love is how attentive they are, and they just, when they see talent, they see it. And you’re so relatable. I mean, look at how far you’ve come. I completely understand. I mean, my first A24 film I was with a Skarsgård, and I was what 17 turning 18 I was terrified. But like, to be able to be cast alongside Daniel Craig as a main lead, holy hell, love, that’s so amazing.”

Drew laughs, clearly touched by her kind words, but still slightly in awe of the situation himself. “Did you ask him about James Bond?” she asks, a playful glint in her eye as she reminisces about the experience.

“He just kind of started talking about it,” Drew laughs, a bit sheepish but also amused by how casually Daniel Craig had approached the iconic role.

“That sounds like him,” y/n says, laughing along with him. “That’s so typical of Daniel,” she adds with a smile, as if recalling a thousand stories about the actor’s laid-back personality.

Drew nods, shaking his head a bit in disbelief. “Yeah, it was great. He’s just so chill about it all,” he says, both in awe and admiration.

“So, pretty girl, any new projects for you?” Drew asks with a playful smile, his tone light but full of curiosity as he watches her.

She chuckles, clearly enjoying the attention. “The way you keep calling me pet names, people are going to think we’re together,” she teases, her voice playful and full of warmth.

Drew grins mischievously. “Just trying to be sweet,” he replies, shrugging in mock innocence.

Y/n  glances to the side at her team, a mischievous glint in her eye. “But I was told I am allowed to share this, since it will most likely come out before this does, i can't remember who is playing the lead though” she says, nodding toward her team, missing drew's knowing smirk. “My team is also staring at me smiling right now,” she adds with a smile, causing both her and Drew to burst into laughter.

The mood shifts slightly as Abbie asks, “Have you watched anything or read anything by Nicholas Sparks?”

Drew’s eyes light up. “Yes, I have! The Notebook is a classic,” he responds with a fond smile, clearly a fan of Sparks’ work, while acting oblivious to the fact that he is playing the lead.

Y/n nods enthusiastically. “Well, he has this book, Two by Two, which is my favorite book ever,” she says, her eyes lighting up as she shares her passion. “It follows this father and his 5 or 6-year-old daughter as he navigates life, newly divorced from his wife who had spent their daughter’s whole life being a stay-at-home mom. But then she decides she wants to find a job, making him a stay-at-home dad while he’s running his own business. He finds out she cheats on him with her boss, and basically, he has to raise their daughter mostly on his own. The story is beautiful, and I have the honor of getting to play the girl he falls back in love with—Emily, who is a painter with her own gallery. She also happens to be his high school sweetheart. She’s also newly divorced, but they reconnect because his daughter, London, and her son, Bohdi, become best friends.”

Drew listens intently, utterly captivated by her description. “That sounds incredible,” he says, his voice full of admiration. “I can see why you’re so excited about it.”

Her face softens with genuine enthusiasm. “I don’t think I’ve been this excited for a project. I mean, I’ve been excited before, but this one is so different than what I’m used to since it’s more of an emotional and romantic movie,” she says, her tone growing reflective.

She pauses for a moment before adding, “I mean, I’ve been deemed the queen of horror since I was 18, so I feel like it’s going to be so refreshing to have a break from only doing horror movies.” She laughs lightly at the thought.

Drew chuckles and nods. “I mean, you wouldn’t have 16 different awards if you weren’t good at what you do,” he says with a sincere smile, causing y/n to blush modestly.

“Thank you,” she responds, her voice barely above a whisper, clearly touched by the compliment.

After a brief pause, Drew asks, “You said it resonates with you a lot. May I ask how so, seeing as though you haven’t been married or have kids… or have you?” His tone is gentle, as he clearly recognizes the vulnerability of the question.

Y/n  hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I unfortunately am quite single,” she says, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “But, umm… sorry, I feel like I’m going to cry,” she admits, her voice faltering slightly. “But you know, transparency is great, and that’s something I strive for.”

Drew’s expression softens in sympathy. “Hey, no, it’s okay. Take your time,” he says with genuine care. “I’m just curious, you don’t have to answer it.”

She  nods, wiping her hands nervously on her lap before speaking again. “No, it’s okay,” she reassures him. “I feel like people know bits and pieces, but…” she begins, shifting her posture as if bracing herself. “As I said earlier, it’s been me and my dad since I was five years old. Well, that’s because my mom cheated on him right when I turned five. So a lot of what Russ and London lived, I did too.”

She pauses briefly, collecting her emotions. “After that, my dad took a big step back from the industry and began to focus on raising me and guiding me through my career at that age. Taking me to all my shoots and my dance classes,” she adds softly.

Drew’s smile softens with understanding as he imagines young y/n . his expression tender, clearly picturing her as a little ballerina.

“ when I wasn’t acting, I was doing ballet,” she  responds, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she reminisces. “I mean, I still take classes occasionally for fun when I’m not shooting any movies or shows. If I wasn’t doing this, I would have totally gone to Juilliard,” she says with a bittersweet laugh.

“Wait, you wanted to go to Juilliard?” Drew asks, his surprise evident.

“Yeah,” she replies with a nod. “But then I realized I loved acting a lot more. But like, it was truly an honor to meet with Nicholas, and he personally asked how I would feel about being in the adaptation for this book. And I sobbed because it means so much to me,” she says, her voice wavering with emotion. “I still don’t know who’s playing Russ, but I am so excited to be able to revisit the book. That’s why I said I’m filming in North Carolina soon.”

Drew looks at her with admiration. “Y/n, that’s truly beautiful,” he says, his voice filled with warmth. “It’s amazing that you get to be in an adaptation of something you love so much. It just means you’ll put your all into it.”

She  smiles through the emotion, a tear welling up at the corner of her eye. Drew, noticing the tear, rises from his seat, moving in front of her. Gently, he places his hands on her knees, wiping away the tear with his thumb.

“Your mom doesn’t know how much she missed being able to love and know such a beautiful human being,” Drew whispers softly, his words full of compassion. “You’re so talented, and even though you grew up in this industry because of your dad, you’ve proven you have a right to be here. And about who is casted as russ, i found out last week that i was cast as lead alongside you, so we will for sure be seeing a lot of one another ”

The camera captures this tender moment, the rawness of the emotion hanging in the air. Her  eyes well with more tears, but she mouths a quiet “oh my gosh that's amazing, and thank you” to him. Drew smiles warmly, stands up, and walks back to his seat, leaving a sense of peace and admiration between them. The atmosphere is quieter now, a sense of intimacy settling in. Drew, ever curious and willing to delve deeper, leans in slightly. “Not to keep it on an emotional level, but like… what’s your biggest fear?” His voice is steady, but the question feels weighty, more than just idle conversation.

Y/n , still drying her eyes, lets out a soft chuckle, trying to mask the rawness of the moment with humor. “Oh gosh, Drew. Take me out to dinner at least if you’re going to ask me these questions,” she laughs, wiping away the last traces of her tears. The attempt at levity lingers in the air, but it’s clear the underlying tension is palpable.

Drew’s smile is kind, but there’s an undeniable sincerity in his response. “Seeing how this is going, I plan to afterwards,” he says, his tone warm but not overly flirtatious. He’s just being sincere, which makes Abbie pause for a moment, her eyes meeting his with a blend of curiosity and hesitation.

She stares at him, her wide eyes blinking several times as if grappling with how much of herself she is willing to reveal in this vulnerable moment. It’s a rare pause, almost as if she’s debating whether to give the “safe” response or speak from a place of true honesty. Finally, after a long moment, she speaks, her voice still gentle but marked with an emotional undertone.

“Do you want a generic answer or a sincere one?” she asks, her head tilting slightly, her eyes narrowing with the effort of weighing her options. It’s clear she’s giving him permission to choose how deep this will go.

Drew, understanding the gravity of the question, leans back in his seat a little and responds in a voice full of care, “Sweet girl, make it a real one; but again you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” His words are an invitation for authenticity, not just an attempt to dig deeper. His respect for her boundaries is evident, but the warmth in his tone makes it clear that whatever she decides to share, he’s there for it.

Y/n  hesitates for a moment, as though she needs to ground herself, but then, she nods. “No, it’s okay,” she says with newfound resolve. “Again, want to be the most authentic and real for people.” There’s a slight quiver in her voice, betraying how much this question stirs inside her. Her lips part as if she’s about to say something difficult, something not just for the camera but for herself, too.

She takes a deep breath, clearly preparing to dive into a painful memory. “I mean, when he found out that my mom cheated on him… that was the saddest I’ve ever seen him,” she begins, her voice soft but heavy with the weight of the past. She looks down briefly, perhaps to gather strength before continuing. “To me, I didn’t understand it at first. How could someone hurt a man who showed them nothing but love and support, dropping huge projects to be by her side, he truley was the epitome of a man in love? It’s mind-blowing to me. I mean, I’m his daughter. I grew up seeing how hard he worked for me, how he sacrificed everything for me. And then to have that… betrayal, to see him devastated like that—it broke me. But he just kept going. He kept showing up for me. Even though I couldn’t fully understand it, he kept being my dad. And that’s what I admire about him the most—his ability to continue, despite everything.”

There’s a pause as she  gathers herself, blinking away tears, though she’s holding it together. She takes another steadying breath, looking up at Drew with eyes that now glisten with unspoken emotion. The silence between them is thick, heavy with empathy, and Drew listens without interrupting, letting the words sink in.

After a moment, she  continues, her voice still slightly shaky. “I also just hate it when people call me a ‘nepo baby,’ but they’re right, you know?” she admits, her tone raw. “At my core, that’s really what I am. And it’s scary, because every day, I’ve had to prove myself. I feel like I’m always fighting against that label, trying to show that I’m not just here because of who my dad is, but because I deserve to be here.”

Her voice trembles slightly as she presses on, her gaze unwavering. “And sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s always going to be about him. And that’s terrifying. I want to build my own path, not just walk in his shadow,even though i am so proud to get the honor of calling him dad. But that’s the burden, isn’t it? You’re expected to be something great, and when you don’t feel like you measure up, it’s hard not to worry you’ll disappoint them.”

The vulnerability in y/n’s voice is palpable, but she doesn’t falter, holding herself together as she speaks her truth. Drew nods slightly, his expression filled with understanding, the kind of silent support that encourages her to continue.

Her words hang in the air, and Drew quietly responds, “I get that. That pressure is no joke, and it never really goes away. You’re not alone in feeling that.” His voice is filled with warmth and empathy, and there’s a deep resonance in what he says, as if he knows exactly what that pressure feels like. Drew gives her a reassuring smile, but it’s the kind of smile that’s heavy with shared experience, a subtle acknowledgment of how difficult the road she walks truly is.

She  takes a breath, wiping the final traces of tears from her face, and then shifts the conversation back to him, her tone gentle but inquisitive. “What about you, love? What’s your biggest fear?” she asks, her voice quiet but full of curiosity.

Drew pauses, rubbing the back of his neck—a familiar gesture that signals a shift in tone. His expression softens as he reflects on the question, and there’s a moment of tension as he searches for the right words. He leans forward, as if ready to share something personal, but still weighing how much of himself he wants to expose.

“You know, it’s funny,” Drew starts, his voice taking on a thoughtful cadence. “Because on the surface, everything’s great. People see the success, the roles, the recognition. But, if I’m being honest, my biggest fear is being typecast. Getting stuck in one role, one type of character. Like, they see me as rafe cameron, the coked out killer, you know?” He smirks as he says this, but the edge to his voice reveals how deep the fear runs.

“Rafe Cameron was a turning point for me,” Drew admits, his tone becoming more animated. “I got attention, sure—but with it came a box. And I’m scared I’m gonna be stuck in that box forever.”

She  listens intently, her gaze steady and knowing. She can relate—she’s seen it in her own career, how quickly an actor can be defined by one character or one image. Drew’s voice picks up, the words flowing faster now, the urgency clear in his expression.

“It’s like I’m constantly fighting against this image of being the rebellious, troubled guy,” he continues, frustration creeping into his voice. “I’m grateful for Outer Banks—I love playing Rafe, but I want to show people more than that. I want to do things that challenge me, roles that let me push my limits. But I’m afraid Hollywood will just see me as that one thing, and I’ll never get the chance to grow.”

Drew’s vulnerability is laid bare in this moment, his fear of being confined to a single role evident in every word. “It feels like there’s this pressure to break away from that and show that I can do more. But sometimes I think… I could end up being one of those actors who only gets cast for their ‘type.’ And that’s just—ugh. It’s a slow death for me, artistically. I want to do more than just ‘play a part.’ I want to create something that people remember me for, something that’s not just one-dimensional.”

He pauses, rubbing his temples, letting the weight of his thoughts settle. “And on top of that, there’s the whole ‘persona’ thing. Being in the public eye, being known for a certain thing—it’s all part of the game, but I worry that it’ll overshadow my work. Like, what if the person people see isn’t really who I am? And if I keep chasing roles that push me outside of what people expect, I might lose sight of what really matters. Who I really am, outside of the character, outside of the fame.”

Drew shrugs slightly, the unease still lingering in his words, but there’s an honesty in his self-reflection. “It’s not just about missing out on opportunities—it’s about losing myself in the process. I don’t want to become something that I’m not. I want my work to not define me as an individual , not the image the industry creates.”

She  leans in, a soft but understanding look on her face. “I get that,” she says quietly, her voice full of empathy. “That fear of being seen only for what they want to see. It’s a lot. But you’re not alone in feeling that, Drew. I think… we both understand that pressure in different ways.”

Drew looks at her, the vulnerability still visible in his eyes. But now, there’s also a quiet reassurance in the space between them. For a brief moment, they sit together, both actors—both people—unmasked in their shared understanding of the pressure to fit into the mold created for them by others. There is no judgment here, just the unspoken knowledge that they’re not alone in the complex, often isolating experience of being seen in ways they never intended.

The atmosphere has shifted. The heavy emotions from their earlier conversation are still lingering in the air, but now there’s an undercurrent of lightheartedness, an invitation to relax. Drew stands up, stretching slightly as he looks at her. He smiles, his expression softening with sincerity, but there’s a certain playfulness that has returned to his demeanor.

“Well, beautiful, this was definitely, may I say, the highlight of my year,” he says, his voice warm and genuine. There’s a slight twinkle in his eyes, and though the comment might seem like a simple compliment, it carries the weight of an unspoken connection between the two of them. “And I wasn’t joking about taking you out to dinner,” he adds, the promise of a follow-up hanging in the air. It’s not just an offer—there’s intention behind his words, and she can sense it.

Y/n  looks up at him, the slight blush on her cheeks betraying the genuine sincerity of his words. She lets out a small laugh, more because of how unguarded he’s been throughout their conversation than anything else. “I’ll hold you to that, Starkey,” she says, her voice teasing but also tender. There’s a newfound warmth in her tone, the kind that comes from having shared something personal with someone who isn’t just listening, but truly understanding. The bond between them, though still in its early stages, is unmistakable.

With a smile, Drew takes a step forward, the distance between them closing as they meet in the middle. There’s a natural ease to their movements, and without a word, they each open their arms to embrace one another. The hug is brief but meaningful—a moment where both seem to realize that what has just transpired between them is something more than just an interview or a casual conversation. It’s the beginning of something new, something that neither of them fully understands yet, but both are undeniably intrigued by.

As they pull away, Drew chuckles, clearly feeling lighter than before. “Not going to lie, my mom would adore you,” he says, his voice filled with affection, but also with a certain vulnerability that shows he’s being real with her. The mention of his family is telling—a subtle way of indicating that he’s not just seeing her as a professional acquaintance, but as someone who might be important enough to bring into his personal life.

She raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smile as she eyes him with mock suspicion. “Already thinking about taking me home to meet your parents?” she asks, her tone light but filled with curiosity. The question isn’t just one of jest; it’s also an acknowledgment of the connection they’ve built. She’s not only acknowledging the intimacy of the moment but subtly suggesting that she’s open to seeing where this could go.

Drew grins, his eyes lighting up as he gives her a quick, knowing look. “Maybe,” he replies, though his voice carries the hint of possibility. His answer isn’t a definitive yes, but it’s clear that the idea of her meeting his family is not out of the question. There’s something more here, something that feels both promising and delicate, like the early stages of a relationship that could grow into something more substantial.

As they walk toward the exit together, their steps in sync, there’s a sense of ease between them that wasn’t there before—an ease that only comes after sharing something deeply personal. They move with the kind of familiarity that suggests a budding friendship, the kind where even the smallest gestures or words hold meaning. The conversation has shifted, but the connection remains.

The video starts to fade out, the final frame capturing them walking side by side, their laughter trailing behind them as they exit the scene. The last words spoken—those lighthearted, yet telling comments about dinner and family—linger in the air, like a promise of something that could develop further.

The scene closes on the image of the two of them, a quiet promise hanging between them: the possibility of dinner, of getting to know each other better, and of exploring where this newfound bond could take them. They both thought, for a fleeting moment, that maybe this was just the start of something beautiful. It wasn’t just about the conversation they’d shared, but about what might come after—what was unfolding in the quiet spaces between their words and actions.

ABBIE'S CORNER

this has been my favorite written chapter by far. i watched both videios a few times and used elements from both but also added my own things ( y/n's backstory, and them both being casted in the movie adapataion of one of my favorite Nicholas Sparks book) Don't forget to reblogg and let me know what you guys think.

[colorfulwastelandvoid]

“Love is the easiest thing in the world when it happens on accident, but it doesn’t get real until you do it on purpose”- Ellie; Entergalatic

I have already started to examine both Jayce and Mel as individual characters and will continue to do so. I find that it is important to examine the characters in the ship as separate entities just as much as the ship itself, because they do and should exist out of it. Okay now that this disclaimer is out the way:

MelJay is a ship defined not by what they can do together but in the quieter moments that they have for each other. Time and time again we see them seek comfort in each other whenever the other is in emotional pain. I do believe that ship started off based more on lust, I mean look at them. The relationship doesn’t start to shift until the night they hook up the first time after the opera. In the quiet moment of Jayce, ever the lover boy who wears his heart on his sleeve, talks to Mel about his love of magic and desire to help people. We see him look at Mel with this soft look in his eyes, a look of vulnerability. We then see Mel thanks Jayce for the opportunity to actually give back to the world, something she has been striving for. It is a first for her family. They make love and all during the scene we see that Mel is looking at Jayce like he is truly her whole world. Mel’s eyes are usually more angular and sharp but in this scenes and more to come when she is emotionally open they are big and more soft. It is really highlighted in the scene where she notices Jayce is not in bed. After that while Mel is ever composed her anger and hurt seeps out when talking to Jayce when he shows up to her place to apologize. Her answers are short; she is not looking at him and there is none of the familiar touches that we have grown to see these two share. As Jayce explains why he left we see these two sharpness of Mel’s eye soften again realizing that he is being genuine. When Jayce puts his head in his lap we see the shock and the return of the care in Mel’s eyes. As they touch Mel begins finds to find strength to start to share the more shameful (in her eyes) parts of herself. As Jayce reassures her that she is enough we see the sadness in her eyes not really believing in herself but also the start of her love of him. It is there that the relationship to become real. It goes from stolen glances, little touches to hand holding and emotional vulnerability. From this point forward we see these characters start to shift slightly.

Hextech is very important to Jayce. It is his life’s dream it’s implied that he spends most of his time in the lab, and he gives up time in the lab with it to be with Mel. She is that important to him. Hextech the light in his eye , the burning in his soul and he makes time/ find a way to be with her.

Mel holds a lot of things close to the chest. She is emotionally stunted(in my humblest opinion) she just more subdued about it. Hence any big show of emotion is a big deal. We only ever see this twice and both involve Jayce. The first time she damn near growls at Ambessa after realizing she has been messing with Jayce. This seemingly catches Ambessa off guard as well calling out her daughter’s feelings toward him.

We see this reliance on each other throughout the later half of the season. Even when they don’t listen(cough Jayce). That’s why the end of season 1 was the pinnacle of their relationship cementing it in each other’s eyes forever. “… I don’t give a sh*t about what any of you think of me anymore ( looks at Mel). Except you, You were right. You were always right” Jayce says this as he looks t Mel with a soft look in his eyes as he slightly smirk. Mel returns this look with one of soft surprise not because of his feelings toward her but because he has always affirmed her more soft idealist ways and this time she might actually believe him too. It is this reason why that this last scene in season 1 is the most romantic scene in the whole series. The season long development of both characters coming to fruition. His faith in her and in turn her faith in him as she takes off the Medarda ring and sides with Jayce and Viktor for peace. Finally being able to believe that diplomacy can overcome war. Jayce realizing that not everything is for him to personally fix.

I’m going to be 100% honest, I love MelJay. It was the only ship in the arcane series that I actually cared for ( I still like the other ones). I’m a sucker for the jaded x idealist trope. It eats every time! The way this particular trope has the characters grow as individuals and as a couple always get me. I mean yall can’t relate to being dead inside (jaded) or hoping against all odds ( idealist).

Listen at the end of the day, love is both a feeling and an action word. Anyone can fall in love but to BE in love takes work. It takes both to have faith and find strength in the vulnerability in one another. Whether MelJay was meant to last or not it should not be understated how much strength one another found in each other. I mean Jayce’s lasts words to Mel was acknowledgement of her strength and perseverance something he found comfort in. It was a testament to above all else Mel is a force of nature, that man believed in her with his whole heart (look at the voice lines from arcane survivor Jayce to Mel). To discredit that is to discredit both of these characters.

ps sorry for such a long post. I still have more to say about this ship but it’ll definitely be for smaller posts. Thanks to those who just skimmed and the people who read all the way through.

[zrllosyn-art]

this is the Really Normal haru anon and i absolutely need a post about his lore because i love him . !!! hes such a cool character 2 me because hes literally just, . the employed friend on an off day ? to me ?

i LOVE how you describe Haru tbh, you are, not wrong

(old sketch ft. Izfaish's Yamato who i love very much she is so good)

Haru.... does not know what normal clothes is though lmao. The work follows him off duty

ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR INTEREST IN HARU LORE, I WILL. do my best to give you a quick run down under the cut

(i do have a lore packet/sketch pdf,,, in the works,,, but for now have a basic rundown. I will,,, finish this haru zine eventually LMAOOo)

So I'm gonna be including a buncha sketches because,,, uh,, I am not the best with words so I need visuals to assist lmao. Most of them are in my [haru tag], if you wanna just see those.

He also has a [toyhouse page] if you wanna see that instead. Its a little outdated though, i keep retconning bits of his history n such.

BUT YEAGH. ONTO THE, lore,, ,,

Haru's original idea was around how not everyone who dreams of being JAKDF combatant, makes it. I love how kn8 canon basically tells you its never too late and encourages you to follow your dreams but I kinda wanted to go at it from th other angle of. Sometimes, you have to give up. But you don't have to give up entirely. You just need to change your approach, or find something within it that you can do. Adapting your dreams to your reality, and visa versa. That kinda thing.

(also have these as buffer. My little haru stickers/emotes lmao)

So Haru's childhood dream was to join the JAKDF as a combatant, but he runs into a lot of issues along the way. He's got financial issues from loosin his family pretty early on, and also he hits a pretty hard wall in terms of unleashed combat potential (his stops around 10%).

(He's a bit of a delinquent in high school. Mainly due to skipping classes for part time work, and hanging out with a not-so-great crowd)

[Haru and his parents] [Also Haru with Pati (friend's oc) and Yamato (izfaish's oc) talking about piercings.]

After runnin into many walls and kind of hitting, a really low point, he gets recruited into the research and operations side of things when a higher up notices he's pretty decent at the more analytical side of stuff. He takes the out, and he switches out combat training and goes into research and operations instead. From there he goes into research only, and then goes overseas for extended training/education.

He uh, was kind of running away from his social life in japan, and also the kinda, internalized pressure due to stuff. He feels kinda guilty about it (had a huge falling out with a friend when leaving). But he goes! Overseas, to the US as part of a sister school training program kinda deal. The program is kind of a half training/combat program and half educational, so he's doing both for a little bit.

(Still not sure how that program works. The details are nowhere near hashed out)

[Haru with his cadet friends. Its him in the middle.]

During his time as a combatant, he gets his arm eaten by a kaiju, and he gets removed from the combat program entirely. Due to, uh. Well trauma, injury, and missing a whole ass arm.

[early concept sketch for haru gettin his arm eaten. ]

You can find the comic about his arm gettin eaten and his ptsd around kaiju in general [here]. But with the removal from the combatant program he goes full into research and kinda, finds out he enjoys it. He gets himself a degree, and ends up as a professor? Mainly there for research, but he's required to teach a few classes. This is where he meets Pati (friend's oc) who becomes his friend and also assistant.

[haru and pati. Theyre goofballs. also this sketch is from before haru's whole arm thing was put into place so he doesnt have that]

Haru's research ends up centered around kaiju fibers, and how they affect unleashed combat potential (UCP), and general sync rates. His first actual use of his research was making himself a prosthesis, which is kind of his thesis project. I think.

[Haru and Pati, working on the creation process for his prosthetic arm.]

He turns out to be compatible with the kaiju that ate his arm so thats fun. For me. And not for him. The kaiju he got eaten by is also, a little special? Its not a numbered kaiju by any means, but i enjoyed messing around with its abilites and concepts for it, so its spawn shows up semi often in my doodles. Haru is, not exactly happy to see they're still around.

[haru with his new arm, and his generally mixed feelings when it comes to the kaiju that ate his arm]

Eventually he ends up going back to Japan, and working with the JAKDF where he meets Yamato (Izfaish's oc) and a whole buncha, other ocs I have. And gets hauled into the whole conflict going on over there. His reasons for returning isnt, quite set yet? I think its fun if the JAKDF recruited him for a specific project and he just, stays hired by them or smth, but that part and the timing for his return keeps changing.

Here's some doodles of him in Japan and workin over there though.

[as always, pati is my friend's oc, and yamato belongs to izfaish]

Anyways thanks for giving me a chance to just kind of, sit here and yell about this disaster of a guy. He's just a guy, but like. I am puttin him through it.

[daily-hanamura]

[skeletalheartattack]

hi I like gelato a lot

[crossbackpoke-check]

re your notes on the mack post: oh. my. gosh and also 100% AGREED 😵‍💫

(he and will are both ******* those old men lbr)

- @bondedpairs

sometimes i have brief moments of introspection in which i wonder whether or not there are things better left in my drafts and usually i say fuck it we ball and then we DO ball and i love y’all for that. would you still love me if i whip out my footnotes and references

FOOTNOTES:

*somewhere in there is an aside about mack having to think about joe stroking somebody ELSE’s dick on the bench and having a panic about it.

**i DO see the will smith mackelini celebrini ?!;&/‘os everyone has been posting. that is the devil talking as in i cannot become invested or else it will ruin me. f1vegas you are NOT forgiven for putting ‘the tk/pat parking garage vibes of it’ in front of my eyes like my! god! i do NOT WANT TO KNOW THE NARRATIVE (too compelling i think. too much to get into with the bc(?)/bu rivalry and zeev buium was there and there’s another shark too somewhere??. i can’t care about a fish a MACKEREL you guys and will smith is not allowed to be my sharks bicycle because the team whoré borde already exists!!) where i was trying to go is sometimes you both fuck the same old man and he’s like. losers. get a polycule. and they end up together (obviously to me jumbo is in an ???? with patty and burnsie)

ABBV. REFERENCES:

ro’s other post where mack says to “ask smitty about [hunting cougars]” (src: holyjost)

ko’s transcript of fun facts from the interview that made me too endeared. girl nobody made you take advertising courses?? change your major

aforementioned f1vegas post. this is by tags alone because after reading that i was not capable of watching the video

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

hello hellooo! how about Mikey for the character ask game and 🍄🤔 for the WIP ask game?

Thank you for the ask!

here are the links to the ask games:

https://www.tumblr.com/just-sp-in-inginthevoid/747133689068158976?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/just-sp-in-inginthevoid/747130592726007808?source=share

My first impression

Typical overpowered goofball that steals the protag's spotlight and who's likely to be interesting once his past gets revealed. Probably has a large part of the fandom having him as their or one of their favorite characters. Don't think he'll be mine tho (I always end up with favorite characters who are (mostly) the ones without a huge fanbase behind them 🥲)

My impression now

He needs a hug. He needs therapy. He needs to cry. He needs Takemichi.

More seriously, he's more complex and important to the story than what I've anticipated. He's just so detrimental to the story. From start to end he's tangled with it. He deserves that happy ending. If I think too long about his dynamic with Shinichiro I sob uncontrollably and ugly.

I love how trauma is depicted with him. It can get so much ugly despite one's unwillingness to be and one's best effort. He's a great character.

Favorite thing about that character

He has no power over his own fate. His life wasn't meant to last as long as it did and so when it continued even though it should've ended, it got set in stone as counterweight. He got cursed by the person he loved immensely and who loved him back immensely as well. He came back wrong and he wasn't aware of it. He's an antagonist despite himself. He was meant to be since the start and Kisaki helped to speedrun it but even without him Mikey would've sunk in darkness. There were clues about that since the start and I love that for him. He's literally cursed to ruin his own life (and lose his loved-ones). Talk about doomed lol gotta love a lil tragic man.

(I'm very happy he got his happy ending tho, don't get me wrong)

Also: he's got a blanket-plushie <33 he's irritable when he wakes up and that's relatable

Least favorite thing

Idk... I don't think there is one? Perhaps when he refuses to apologize because he doesn't see the point to it (in the hospital when visiting Pah's friend's girlfriend with Draken, when meeting Kazutora's father after drop-kicking him, ...) but that's just because it makes me anxious lol I can apologize a bit much

Favorite line/scene

obligatory 'save me' moment mention

It might be a bit cliché, but the whole Manila Mikey scene. It's when Mikey actually started to pique my interest. The whole 'I killed them' bit *chef's kiss* - I needed to know more asap and I knew I wouldn't and it was awesome.

Favorite interaction that character has with another

Mikey stealing Takemichi away for Christmas from Hinata made me chuckle and still do.

I don't think about the trust he puts in Takemichi that much but it does linger on the back of my mind at all times. It's very dear to me.

A character that I wish that character would interact with more

I wish we would've seen more of him with Izana and him with Senju. There are a bunch of others, but ultimately I wish his relation with Izana and Senju would've have more elements to it, more dwell on. Also where are the scenes with Kazutora and Mikey being content and happy, Wakui. Wakui. Wakui, I need them.

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character

Loosely, I'd say Ace from One Piece. Damn character smiling to hide their clinical depression

it's when I'm being asked for things like this that my mind goes blank fr, I'm sure I have best examples somewhere

A headcanon about that character

The reason he sleeps so much is because he's supposed to be in a vegetative stage had Shinichiro not messed with the timeline :D!

A song that reminds of that character

I've got a entire playlist for him with +130 songs in it (as for now), how am I supposed to choose.

Imma just put the first song that triggered me doing playlist for TR and sharing them on Tumblr I guess

降伏論 sang by 宮下遊(Miyashita Yuu) (Eng sub in CC)

And take Body And Mind by Girl in Red as a bonus

An unpopular opinion about that character

I don't think I've got one???

Favorite picture

This panel is just so beautiful.. *sobbing on the floor for several reasons*

I like every lil Mikey as well

🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Baji as Shinichiro's time trigger + canon compliant up to a certain point = Kazutora still kills Shinichiro

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

AU where Shinichiro (19, living in 1999) and Takemichi (18-19, living in 2010) swap bodies between May 22nd and July 30th. They're both from their original timeline and so the connection cut when their timeline stops having the same course of event. And while Shinichiro lives through original timeline the same way he lived it in canon, Takemichi kinda forcefully got his life together (it's tucked together with tuck tape but he's making it work) because of when Shinichiro was living his life and is now way too attached to the Sano family (&Co) not to try to meet with Mikey from his time period (very bad idea). What could possibly go wrong with Takemichi from the start of canon trying to reconnect with Hinata, Mizo Five, Kakucho at some point bc I want him and S62 here, and saving Mikey when... When it's first canon timeline and they've never met?

It's a fix-it somehow; the time leaping powers plotline remains the same as in canon too, when it concerns Shinichiro (Takemichi's part of the story obviously gets changed)

I haven't written a single word yet but I did brainstrom it xd. Got a handful of other long-fics I want to write first before starting a new one

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

what kind of cratures do you think the trigun gang would be?

CREATURES IN GENERAL OR SEA CREATURES. BECAUSE MY FRIEND MONTY N I WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT TRIGUN FURSONAS THE OTHER DAY. but i am the sea creature guy at heart so im gonns give u those i hope that is ok 😌 there are many benefits to being a marine biologist.

Vash: he is... so very shark coded to me. everyone looks at him and sees a dangerous killing machine. frequently covered in scars. do u see the connection here. he is specifically a thresher shark to me because of the whole sharpshooter thing and also the sad sad puppydog eyes 💙

Wolfwood: i am torn between two different types of eels for him. giant morays are more aesthetically pleasing but personally i have to go with a wolf eel both for the name and because ive worked with these guys before and theyre sooooo cool so im biased

Meryl: not technically a sea creature because she is just so bird coded to me. White-Tailed Tropicbird

Milly: is it cheating to have two cephalopods on this list. because i think i really want to say giant pacific octopus for milly. either that or a whale shark 💙 yes those are two completely different animals no i will not be taking criticism at this time

bonus Knives because i love him and i feel the most strongly about this one:

BOBTAIL SQUID.

... and also a bristle worm . for what i hope are obvious reasons

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[steddiealltheway]

As soon as Steve hears the phone ring, he sighs.

Robin is away visiting her family in Kentucky for the holidays, and the only other person to ever call would be...

"Dustin," Steve says, his free hand coming up to rest on his hip, "why are you calling?"

There's a pause on the other line before Dustin whines, "How do you always know when it's me."

"Because your irritating energy bleeds through the phone."

Another pause. "You got that from Robin, didn't you?"

Yes. He did. Sue him for wanting to be witty and taking a few notes from Robin. "What do you want?"

"Okay, so..." Oh boy. "I've been meaning to talk to Suzie for a while now, and we made plans not to talk on Christmas because she would be with her family all day, and I knew my mom wouldn't want me to be away for too long so-"

"The point, Dustin."

Dustin mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like multiple curse words before continuing, "The point is that I'm taking Cerebro to that hill, but I'm going to need a ride."

Steve frowns, walking toward the nearest window until the phone cord is fully stretched so he can pull a curtain open. He winces a bit at the bright light. "Dustin, it's freezing out, and the hill will be covered in snow."

"You would've done the same for Nancy!"

Steve's eyebrows raise. "Not the best approach if you want a ride, dude."

"I'm not trying to approach the whole you and Nancy thing. I'm trying to make a point," Dustin emphasizes a little too loudly into the phone. "You would do anything if you were in love! Even sit out in the snow for a few hours just so you can talk to the person you love."

"Have you ever heard of the phone?"

"Have you heard the number of siblings she has that would jump at the opportunity to listen in on our call? Plus, Cerebro is our thing."

Steve really wishes Dustin were in front of him, so he could see the way his cheeks are flushing during this exact moment. "You just like using your Cebro thing because it makes it feel like your love is forbidden."

"I do not!"

"Alright, Romeo," Steve says with a laugh, "I'll give you a ride. If you promise to only be there for an hour."

"Not including the time it takes to get there, set it up, and leave."

Steve sighs and knocks the phone against his head for a second before reluctantly agreeing, "Yes, but you better be bundled up so much that you're sweating out there. I don't want to hear you complain." He also secretly worries about the kid getting frostbite or something, but he'd never admit to it.

"Fine I'll see you in an hour?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Steve says as Dustin hangs up. "A thank you would've been nice..."

He really hopes he doesn't regret this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

When Dustin climbs in the car, he's bundled from head to toe but still manages to laugh at Steve who is wearing the same amount of layers as him. "Look in the mirror," Steve comments dryly before driving off.

The drive there isn't too long, and although Steve saw Dustin a few days ago - after Claudia insisted he spend Christmas with them instead of home alone - he's kind of glad to hang out with Dustin again. It's not often he gets a lot of one-on-one time with the kid anymore.

Which is why Steve is particularly bitchy when he pulls up to the familar area below the hill and find a familar van there.

"Dustin..."

"I didn't think you would agree to take me here and stay! So, I asked Eddie to give me a ride back this morning-"

"This morning?"

"And he said he was already going to be in the area and wanted to briefly meet Suzie and my Cerebro, so he's here now! And if you want, you can just drop me off. Think of it as a late Christmas gift."

Steve shakes his head. "And leave you in Munson's capable hands only to find out you two froze to death? No thanks." He gets out of the car with thoughts of a mourning Claudia Henderson on his mind.

"We wouldn't freeze to death!" Dustin practically shouts as he climbs out.

At that same moment, Eddie exits from his van, wearing his usual attire, only with maybe an extra added layer - a leather jacket.

Steve turns to Dustin, raising his eyebrows and gesturing toward Munson. Dustin sighs before going to the trunk to dig out all the different Cerebro parts.

Before Steve can join him, Eddie approaches him with a big smile. "Steve Harrington. Looking awfully toasty."

Steve rolls his eyes in response before openning his car door and reaching toward the back, grabbing the spare pair of gloves and a hat that he keeps whenever Robin forgets the extra layers - which is often. He hands them to Eddie without a word then helps Dustin grab his things before heading to their snow covered destination.

Eddie only lasts a few minutes up the hill before he manages to push into Steve's space while Dustin hurries ahead of them. "So, you look happy to see me."

"Just peachy, Munson."

Eddie snorts. "I'm guessing Dustin didn't tell you I would be tagging along when you got here?"

"And I'm guessing Dustin didn't tell you I was planning on staying."

"Actually," Eddie says, nudging Steve's shoulder, "I told him you would jump at the opportunity to hang out with him, and there was no way you would drop him off to freeze to death."

Steve narrows his eyes as he looks at Eddie.

Eddie shifts things around in his arms to grab his shirt and jacket and lift them up enough to show off some of his scarred skin. "Our matching battle scars will forever bound us, Steve. I wonder if the bats gave us telepathic abilities," he says, way too cheery for Steve's liking.

"If it did, then I would teleport up to the top of the hill right now."

"Telepathic means the ability to read each other's minds. The word you're thinking of is 'teleportation.'" Eddie corrects him without judgement - something Steve's always found surprising.

"Oh. Then guess what I'm thinking about right now."

Eddie hums before leaning in to mumble in his ear. "You're thinking about getting a piece of this."

Steve laughs and shoves him away. He's glad it's cold out so he blame his blush on the cold. For some reason, he's still not entirely immune to Eddie's flirting. "Definitely not what I was thinking about."

"You are now," Eddie teases.

Steve swallows heavily, pressing down those thoughts and many... many.... images. "I think you're confusing my thoughts for your own thoughts."

"Tell me about it," Eddie sighs dramatically.

Steve is relieved when he sees they've reached the top of the hill. He's even more relieved when Dustin doesn't ask for his help to put Cerebro together, but Eddie is all too happy to help while calling Dustin a genius - in various annoying, dramatic ways.

It's not long before Dustin is awaiting Suzie's response while Eddie bounces on his feet. Steve's not sure if it's from excitement or being cold - probably both.

"Dusty bun?"

Dustin's face lights up in a way that is entirely too endearing for Steve's heart to handle. The jedi has learned the art of love from the master - or something like that. "Suzie poo! I'm here with Steve and Eddie for the next few moments. Eddie wants to say hello."

Steve frowns and raises his voice, "I want to say hello, too! Eddie just wants to be dramatic about it."

"Because I haven't had the pleasure of meeting the lady," Eddie argues before turning up the charm. "Suzie, it's a pleasure. I'm sure you've heard nothing but wonderful things about me just like I've heard nothing but wonderful things about you. Unlike Steve over here who you've probably never heard a good thing about."

"Hi, Eddie, it's nice to meet you," Suzie replies, giggling. "And hi Steve!"

"Hey, Suze. Don't let Eddie win you over with his charm just yet. It's bad for his ego."

"You think I'm charming?" Eddie asks, batting his eyelashes.

Steve makes a see? gesture before realizing Suzie can't see him.

"Alright," Dustin says, "Now they're going to leave us alone for the next hour."

"Hour? It's already been at least five minutes," Steve complains.

Eddie grabs him by the shoulders and steers him away. "Don't worry, Suzie! I'll make sure you get the fulll hour!"

Steve lets Eddie guide him a little down the hill, ignoring when Suzie asks, "Do they always bicker like an old married couple?"

When they get a comfortable distance away, where they're out of earshot but Steve can still see Dustin to make sure he doesn't freeze to death, Steve sits on the ground. He glances up after he gets as comfortable as he can get on the side of a hill, only to find Eddie frowning down at him.

"What?" Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. "Doesn't seem fair that you get to sit on the ground, and I can't."

Steve's eyes scan over Eddie's body. "Not my fault that you didn't wear a long enough jacket to cover your ass when you sit."

"Not my fault that I wasn't born into a wealthy family that can afford those jackets."

Steve's stomach flips, but he knows Eddie isn't looking for an apology. "Why don't you sit in your van then?"

"Wouldn't want to miss my chance to hang out alone with Steve Harrington," Eddie says with a wink.

Steve nearly scoffs and gives him a snarky reply, but his thoughts go out the window when he notices Eddie's teeth chattering. "Shit," he mutters.

"What was that?"

Steve groans and stands up before unzipping his large jacket.

"Am I in a dream?" Eddie jokes, but his voice shakes a bit.

"You're about to be living one," Steve says dryly as he stands in front of Eddie and opens his coat. Eddie just stares at him. Steve huffs out a breath that becomes visible in the cold air between them. "Come here."

"What?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at Eddie before tugging at his coat. But Eddie continues to stare at him with wide wandering eyes. "I'm not letting you freeze to death up here, so come here before I tell Dustin to pack it up because you're cold."

Eddie crosses his arms a little tighter. "I'm f-fine." A shiver visibly runs through Eddie's body.

Steve rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundreth time this day and wraps Eddie in his jacket before he can protest.

He's stiff for a moment, then Eddie relaxes enough to wrap his arms around Steve who is able to close the jacket around them. They linger in each other's arms long enough that Eddie stops shivering and Steve wonders how much time Dustin has left with Suzie.

"Better?" Steve asks to break the silence.

He feels Eddie nod over his shoulder before he pulls back enough to look him in the eye, nose brushing against Steve's as he whispers, "I know something we could do to keep ourselves warm."

Steve's heart beats a little faster in his chest.

Eddie laughs and tucks his head into Steve neck, his lips far away enough from Steve's that it's no longer the only thing on Steve's mind. With the new brain space, he can feel Eddie drum a nervous rhythm onto his back and bounce a little on his face. He wonders if maybe Eddie was onto the whole scars making them read each other's minds thing because he swears he knows the first part of what Eddie's about to say before he says it.

"Sorry if that was too much. No guy has ever let me flirt at them the way you do."

Steve gets stuck on flirt at and, "No guy?"

Eddie lets out a short humorless laugh. "No guy."

And for some reason, Steve has to ask, "Has any guy let you kiss them before?"

Eddie pulls back to look at him with a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "What are you getting at, Steve?"

Steve glances at Eddie's lips, slightly chapped but they've never looked more inviting. Maybe it's time to listen to Robin's knowing looks whenever Eddie is around and Steve finds himself simultaneously drawn to him while also wanting to run to the bathroom with Robin to have another floor talk. "What if one guy let you kiss them?"

"Steve..." Eddie whispers, his eyes flicking over his shoulder.

Steve turns to find Dustin, facing away from them. Still he loosens his hold on Eddie and says, "Wrap your arms around my neck instead of my back."

Eddie does as he's told, and Steve gives him no warning before saying, "Hopefully this goes alright." Then, he slightly picks up Eddie before falling back, letting the snow break their fall as he lays back with Eddie on top of him.

"That went better than I thought it would," Steve says with a big smile then asks, "Can Dustin see us?"

Eddie glances up and shakes his head.

"Perfect," Steve says, heart practically beating out of his chest when Eddie looks down at him. When he doesn't make a move, Steve can't help but tease, "So you really are all bark, no bite."

"Shut up, Harrington," Eddie says before finally kissing him.

For only a moment, Steve nearly laughs at the fact that Eddie Munson told him to shut up. But then his brain goes nearly haywire yet completely silent when Eddie's lips meet his in what he thinks might be the single most transformative kiss of his life.

His arms tighten around Eddie's back, and Eddie's hands move to cup the back of his head as they deepen the kiss. Somehow, laying in snow, Steve has never felt warmer.

They eventually break the first kiss reluctantly, both of them going back to steal more as they catch their breath, which turns into laughter and giggles between more kisses. Then, Eddie breaks away long enough to say, "You know, the van is seeming like a really great option at the moment."

"And Dustin's a smart kid. He knows how to not freeze to death," Steve says, kissing Eddie every chance he gets.

"You're right. No need to stay here in the snow," Eddie replies.

"Right."

Neither of them make a move to get up, but they both move to kiss again.

It's only a little while later before they hear Dustin yell out, "Guys?" And that's when they finally break away.

Eddie pops up first and calls out, "Yeah?"

"Let's pack up! It's been over an hour! Come on!"

Steve pulls Eddie back down into the snow one more time for a kiss before stomping up the hill. "Alright, alright. We thought you'd be happier that we gave you more time and that we both waited for you."

"it's cold," Dustin complains.

Steve nods, but he still feels warm.

Eddie joins a few moments later, stealing glances at Steve before asking Dustin what they're doing next.

"I'm thinking we change out of our snow clothes and get food somewhere maybe..." Dustin trails off and frowns at Eddie. "Why are you covered in snow?"

"We were making a snow angel?" Eddie hurriedly says.

Steve tries not to laugh.

"One?" Dustin asks.

Eddie nods. "You'll see it on the way down."

Sure enough, on the way down, they all see one horribly disfigured snow angel.

While Steve laughs and Eddie smiles proudly, Dustin shakes his head and mutters something like more curses to himself. In a volume that's able to be picked up by the other boys, he asks, "Eddie, you'll drop me off at my house, and we'll meet back up in an hour at my house?"

"Hour and a half," Steve says. When Dustin opens his mouth to complain, Steve explains, "I need to take a shower so I don't get pnemonia. Plus, I'm not letting my hair freeze on my way to your house."

"Fine," Dustin sighs. "See you then."

"See you then," Eddie echoes to Steve, winking at him once.

Soon after Steve gets home, he hears a knock on the front door, and when it's Eddie on the other side, Steve pulls him in and says, "Maybe you were right about the telek- tele-"

"Telekentic abilities?"

Steve nods as he closes the door behind Eddie and traps him against it. "I definitely know what you're thinking about now."

Eddie cocks his head to the side and wraps his arms around Steve's neck. "Yeah? What am I thinking about?"

"Kissing me again," Steve says, leaning in.

"Actually," Eddie says turning his head away, "I was thinking about a lemon."

"Crazy. I happen to have lemon scented body wash," Steve comments as he grabs Eddie's hands and tugs him up the stairs.

They're both a little late to Dustin's house. And maybe their hair freezes a bit.

But Dustin was right. There's a lot of things Steve would do for love.

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[mggslover]

‘spencer’s “first” time showing you his jealous/possessive side’. bau reader and spencer just started dating and are a bit reserved when it comes to showing affection in the office. a new agent starts flirting/trying to get readers attention and for the first time spencer make sure everyone knows who his girl friend is <3 thank you !!!

the first time spencer gets jealous genre: fluff word count: 965 a/n: oh how i love this prompt!! thanks for the request

Spencer Reid wasn’t big on PDA, so it didn’t surprise you when he suggested keeping your relationship under wraps once it became official. You didn’t mind much—sure, it was a little frustrating when he’d pat your hand away at the round table or create distance the morning after a particularly fun night, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you—but in general, you were glad to keep things private. You had no problem avoiding the “no dating between coworkers” policy drama, and it gave you the opportunity to focus on the cases and enjoy Spencer’s company even more when you’d sneak off home together at the end of the day. 

So, when you found yourself chatting with the new addition to the team—Agent Owen Rogers—you didn’t expect the effect it would have on your boyfriend.

“Of course he’s taken an interest in her. That woman makes everyone fall head over heels,” Penelope half-sighed, her voice a mix of awe and envy as she watched you talk to Owen from the office window. Her words caught Spencer’s attention, and he turned to the scene, spotting you mid-conversation. He recognized the looks his colleagues were giving Owen—those same dreamy, admiring glances they'd had for Hotch’s brother whenever he visited the office.

Spencer’s posture stiffened as the understanding sank in. If he were being honest, he’d liked the new agent when they first met, but now, seeing the way Owen was smirking at you as he moved closer, that initial fondness had quickly morphed into distaste. He could still hear his colleagues gushing over the agent as he quickly got up and headed down the stairs toward you.

“So, I was thinking Italian? Do you like Italian?” Owen asked, his voice upbeat.

Before you could even open your mouth to turn him down, you felt the familiar warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.

“We love Italian.”.

You stood there, completely bewildered, as your boyfriend not only inserted himself into the conversation but also made the boldest display of possessiveness, wrapping his arms around you without a second thought. It was so un-Spencer-like—especially in the office—but you weren’t about to complain, your hands instinctively resting over his arms.

“Actually, Owen—I can call you Owen, right?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation before continuing. “You know, it’s fascinating how often people pick Italian food for a first date. Objectively, it’s a terrible choice. Think about it: you’ve got these long, slippery noodles—spaghetti, for instance—that are practically designed to humiliate you. The odds of splattering marinara sauce all over yourself—or worse, your date—are alarmingly high. And then there’s the garlic. People convince themselves that a mint will magically erase it, but we both know that’s just a delusion. Why anyone still thinks it’s a good idea is beyond me. Kind of stupid, don’t you think?”

You bit your lip, struggling to suppress your laughter as Owen’s face crumpled. You truly felt sorry for the poor thing—he really was a nice guy—but seeing Spencer get this sassy, especially when it was all because of you, was strangely entertaining.

“I—uh, yeah.” Owen gives a nervous laugh, his fingers awkwardly brushing the back of his neck. “Pretty stupid.”

“But we’d love to have Italian food with you! Right, baby?” Spencer gives your waist a subtle squeeze, his silent cue for you to play along.

You cough slightly, trying to cover your laugh. “Right! Yes, totally—Italian sounds great.”

“Yeah, that’s cool, guys. But, uh, now that I think about it, I’m swamped. You know, being a new agent and everything.” Roger’s voice wavers just enough to betray his weak excuse.

“So unfortunate. Maybe another time,” Spencer replied smoothly. Owen nodded stiffly, forcing a tight smile before quickly walking off.

You scoffed a laugh as Owen disappeared down the bullpen, the shock still lingering. You turned to Spencer, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“What in the world has gotten into that pretty head of yours?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a little, suddenly aware of how much of a spectacle he had just made in the middle of the office.

“He was asking you out,” he said quietly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You chuckled, reaching up to adjust his collar. “And I was just about to say no.”

His arms found their way back around your waist, leaning into your touch as if he’d forgotten where he was. His eyes flickered from your hands to your face, his expression softening. “I know you were. But he should know not to ask you.”

You smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, amused by how the man who’s so intent on keeping your relationship discreet in public is now letting his clingy nature shine through.

“You know he can’t smell that I’m taken, right?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Well, maybe we should change that,” Spencer whispered, his voice low as he leaned in, his face brushing against your neck, causing you to giggle.

Unbeknownst to you, the whole team had quietly tiptoed their way down the stairs, and gathered around on the other side of the bullpen. They stood there, wide-eyed, like they were watching an episode of their favorite drama.

“Derek… Am I seeing this right?” Garcia whispered, voice dripping with curiosity as she watched Spencer's face disappear into your neck.

Morgan’s chuckle echoed through the bullpen. “Oh yes, babygirl. You’re seeing it just right.”

Spencer’s grip on you tightened as he sensed the peering eyes, but instead of discomfort, he radiated a quiet pride. He wasn’t hiding anymore—he was proud of what you shared, proud to be yours, and for you to be his, and he wanted the world to know it.

[smokingsoothesthesoul]

# DREW STARKEY — LIVE TALK SHOW

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ ────୨ৎ──── drew’s first time on a talk show, which just so happens to be jimmy fallon’s and he’s known for scheming. he surprises drew starkey with his celebrity crush. which just so happens to be you.

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ — pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey !

author’s note: please show some love, also this is my first time posting on here, and i don't know how good my one-shots are. enjoy!

word count : 1.8k

you were known for being one of the most famous actresses sought after. they’d been right for it, your acting was phenomenal. as much fame as you had, you never really let it get to your head, knowing where you had come from was the most important thing to you. 

not only that but you were also known for the activist and humanitarian organizations you’d created or supported alongside other celebrities, like angelina jolie, phoebe tonkin, daniel craig, etc.

so when daniel craig’s managers reached out to you it wasn’t a big surprise, apparently they had been reached out to by a talk show if they could invite you along as well. knowing daniel was more than glad to pass the invitation along, you accepted. 

you wondered why they’d want you there seeing as queer had just premiered, and that had nothing to do with you

—

drew had been nervous, he’d be on a talk show, but nonetheless he was a wreck. it took him forever to decide what he’d be wearing, ultimately deciding on a charcoal grey, and white tux with a black tie. he hoped his outfit would be fine for the show.

as he waited backstage for his introduction he paced around nervous, spinning his gold ring on his finger, an anxious tic he had. 

before he knew it, he heard jimmy fallon, “ladies and gentleman, let’s welcome the man everyone's been talking about, he’s rising to fame, the one and only drew starkey!” he announced as drew walked out and shook hands with the bodyguard on his way to the main set. 

hearing the loud cheers and roars of everyone was amazing and he couldn't help but be shook to his core, never in a hundred years would he have expected this. 

he waved to everyone as he made his way over to jimmy and shook his hand, before he proceeded to sit down in one of the couches.

“so drew we’re glad you accepted our invitation, isn’t that right?” jimmy asked the audience, before they all roared in agreement.

“i’m honored, thank you for inviting me.” drew replied confidently, knowing he was nervous inside.

“so we know you’ve been chasing gold for about four years, and now you’re in a queer relationship with daniel craig, james bond, which has premiered if i’m correct?” jimmy asked, knowing the answer but trying to build up the conversation.

“yes, out in theatres about a week ago.” drew replied. 

“how did that transition work, you know, from filming a show where you don’t really have a romantic relationship until recently to a full blown queer relationship?” jimmy asked curiously.

“honestly, a bit overwhelming and a lot of anxiety from my part. not more so because of the transition but just because i knew i had to ace this role. getting the opportunity to work alongside daniel craig and for luca guadagnino was truly the opportunity of a lifetime. whatever time it was, i knew i had to give it my all. sometimes i doubted my performance but daniel helped me and gave me advice whenever i needed it,” drew replied, while he felt himself relaxing a bit as he got comfortable enough to share personal details.

“there was even a time where,” drew began before lightly biting his lip amused at the story daniel shared with him, before continuing, “daniel told me of an experience he had with another co-star. basically when you first film scenes and most of all when they’re scenes like we were filming, the first day on set really is just practice. not reading lines, but actually practicing how certain scenes will go. in our case mature scenes were what we focused on at the beginning seeing as we’d be testing out our chemistry.”

“anywho the point is that once we were literally in the middle of a bed scene, nothing too explicit, and daniel chuckled when i fucked up a line because instead of saying ‘we can’t be doing this’ i said ‘we shan’t be doing this.’ he literally rolled out of bed and said he had to take a breather, i was confused, i mean we fuck up lines sometimes but never enough to call break,” drew explained.

“yeah normally that doesn’t happen, i would’ve been nervous,” jimmy commented.

drew laughed and nodded his head, before continuing, “i was dying of anxiety in the inside, i was like did i fuck up this badly. and i guess daniel could see it written on my face, which is when he walked over and explained how in his last role the same thing had happened with his co-star. and i couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and literally said, ‘thank fuck’ to which he laughed at as he walked away to get a water.”

jimmy let out a chuckle at the ending of his story, and said, “oh my god i would’ve died of laughter too.” 

drew nodded as he swiped his backhand on his nose, a reflex of his, before replying “yeah i definitely would’ve too but honestly i was too nervous at the time, now i think back on it and laugh about it.”

“actually there was something i was looking forward to, with you here, let’s show this clip,” jimmy said motioning towards the tv for the audience.

before they knew it, drew was being interviewed by a reporter who asked who his celebrity crush was, ‘y/n y/ln’ he answered without falter.

as the video ended drew couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and turned to jimmy while he began, “is that still true?” 

drew knew the answer to that, and nodded, “yeah it is,” he replied confidently.

“we have a surprise for you if you look at the monitor,” jimmy said before motioning towards the tv.

if the world could swallow drew up whole, he’d let it. at that moment. because then and there on the tv, where times he’d stated his celebrity crush was y/n to interviewers and it was playing in chronological order.

as the video ended jimmy looked at him and playfully asked, “anything to comment?” 

drew couldn’t help but cover his mouth with one hand before sliding it down to reply, “genuinely that’d be mine if i could somehow reach her.”

“well who knows maybe one day you will,” jimmy commented supportively.

“unless i get the courage to actually dm her, it’ll be a pending matter,” drew replied.

“why the need for a dm? i’m right here,” you said after making your way quietly behind him signaling the audience to not spoil it.

at that moment, drew froze up, and instantly rose up from his seat but slowly turned around, not knowing if it was real.

as he slowly turned, you waved at him and slightly giggled at his nervous reaction. you waited for him to say something before you said anything else.

as you stood there waiting, drew finally caught a grip and let his charm play out even if he was a train wreck inside. 

“i’m drew starkey,” he introduced, stammering quite a bit. 

“i know,” you replied smiling.

hearing that drew’s brows rose in confusion, he didn’t expect that. he was a nobody and you were everything.

“i was invited to your premiere but i ended up in the er or else i would’ve been there, apologies,” you said, genuinely honest.

drew was lost for words, yet jimmy asked him, “drew you still there or are you too starstruck?” 

“mhm,” drew nodded, not necessarily indicating which one but they could all guess.

he couldn’t get over the fact you’d just apologized for not attending his premiere, gosh he was literally about to faint before he talked to himself in his head ‘get your shit together before you scare her’ which he proceeded to do, and extended his hand for her to shake.

“none of that, my mama taught me better than that” you replied before walking closer to him and pulling him into a hug.

drew couldn’t believe this was happening but reacted fast enough to not make it seem awkward for the audience, at least that's what he hoped and reciprocated the hug. wrapping his hands around your body.

as they pulled apart, you walked up to jimmy and shook his hand seeing as there was a literal desk between you both and greeted him. 

“jimmy it’s been a while,” you commented.

“glad to have you back on here,” jimmy replied genuinely.

“now that we’re dealing with a starstruck man, we actually have a few live questions, if you don’t mind answering them?” jimmy asked.

“of course, ask away,” she replied amused, wanting to know what was being asked.

jimmy read from his phone, “how does it feel to be drew starkey’s celebrity crush?”

“well honestly, and i quote, from the man himself, ‘i’m honored,’” you replied knowing drew was known for his replies of being honored.

next to you drew couldn’t help but smile amused knowing he said that quite a lot, he hadn’t been lying he really was honored. but to hear that you were honored he thought of you a certain way, well that was the most fucking honored he’d be in his life. before, now, or after.

“what do you think of drew starkey and his roles?” jimmy asked, reading off the second question being asked by the audience.

“well honestly, i’m definitely an outer banks fan. i’m glad he’s finally getting the recognition he deserved, i’ve been there since season one, people now are barely catching on,” you started.

as you replied, drew couldn’t help but feel touched at what you were saying. he really had just risen to fame this past year, with the new season of outer banks even though he’d been there since day one of the show.

“i’ll admit this new season and the past one that came out, i couldn’t help but feel a tad bit jealous that our local psycho was tied up and locked in with someone,” you admitted lightly, chuckling amused.

“for me this is a situation where i love the actor but hate the character unfortunately, because rafe deserved better, in this season four that came out. sofia betrayed him and genuinely frustrated me,” you explained.

drew couldn’t help but feel touched at how you were talking about his character, because it was something he’d poured his heart into. 

“one last question for both of you before we go,” jimmy asked before a drum roll sound came on to build anticipation.

“have we created a successful cupid match?” jimmy asked, to which the audience cheered, curious as well.

at that moment both drew and you gazed into each other's eyes, “only time will tell,” you answered truthfully, ‘but maybe we’ll get there’ you tried to communicate that through your gaze with drew. 

the cameras cut and now there was a rising to fame actor, holding out his hand for a famous actress to take. 

and that she did.

[moondancediner]

Love of my Life

summary: the dagger squad meets hangman's best-kept secret

jake seresin x reader

word count: 1490

warnings: no editing, fluff

a/n: this popped into my head the other night... enjoy! also this gif makes me CHOKE ohmylord

song rec: love of my life - harry styles

masterlist

It wasn’t on purpose. Nights when you and Jake ended up at the same bar were never planned, mostly because your friends from work always wanted to go somewhere downtown, and Jake’s friends from work always wanted to go to the Hard Deck so there was never a chance for the two groups to intersect. 

Tonight, however, your friends had enough of hearing about all your nights at the Hard Deck with your fighter pilot husband who drops by work every once and a while with lunch or a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. They decided to venture out to the Hard Deck tonight for your monthly get-together and you weren’t going to miss an opportunity to ogle at your husband from across the bar while he played darts and pool with his Dagger Squad friends who just so happened to be in town visiting. 

And that’s exactly where you found yourself on this lovely Friday night. Your friend walked over to your standing table with another drink for you and you thanked her with a smile. She immediately started diving into some workplace gossip, keeping her voice quiet since so many of your colleagues had managed to make it out tonight. You half-listened to her go on how bad the break room refrigerator smelled the other day but your real focus was on Jake who was playing pool with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Bob. He had Bob on his team and you were surprised to see him actually give the man a chance to play without correcting or coaching him. 

You knew all about the Dagger Squad, when Jake was first sent out here you followed him, even knowing this wouldn’t be a permanent duty station, and he talked about everyone he was competing against non stop. From the moment he came home after training you were getting a full rundown of the days happening (you were sworn to secrecy of the top secret events, of course). You learned quickly who was who, even if you never got the opportunity to meet them. 

After the mission, you were pulling out boxes and getting ready to move what little belongings you brought over to the island when Jake came home and surprised you to your core. He accepted a teaching position here on the North Island and you were staying for the foreseeable future. 

You were shocked but over the moon. Jake would be in one spot for at least a couple years and wouldn’t be off on deployments and missions so often. You could start a family and he could actually be there for all of it. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” A hand waving in front of your face brought you out of memories and a trance you hadn’t realized you were in. You laughed and smiled at your friend, but not before catching the eye of Phoenix, who totally caught you staring at Jake. 

“Sorry, sorry, got a little lost there.” You waved her hand out of your face and took another sip from your drink. 

“I’ll say,” she laughed, “I mean, I get it.” Her eyebrows wagged and you laughed heartily, throwing your head back. She was always complimenting your choice of husband and you had to agree with her, he was fine as hell. 

“Fuck, I think one of his friends just caught me staring,” you said once the laughter died down. 

“Remind me again why he doesn’t tell them about you?” 

“It started off as a joke,” you start, “he wanted to see how long it would take one of them to notice, and now it’s just an ongoing bet we have.” 

“A bet I am about to win, by the way.” Jake suddenly appears behind you and you’re happy to see him until his words sink in.

“You’re not allowed to interfere!” You point at him and he just laughs. 

“No interference, I promise.” He leans on the table you two are standing at and you almost forget about the bet for a second because his green eyes still captivate you even after all this time. 

“Well, what are you doing over here then?”

“See now, that’s where it gets interesting because someone caught you looking at me,” he tips his beer over in the direction of his friends, who scatter like chickens when you turn your head to look at them, “and they bet me $20 that I couldn’t walk over here and get your phone number.” 

“Hmmm, seems like fair play to me.” Your friend interjects, looking contemplatively between you and your cheating husband. 

A noise comes out of your mouth, somewhere between disbelief and betrayal. You only had one month left before the bet was yours and you could claim your prize and now this happens, the perfect opportunity falls right into Jake’s lap. 

“Did none of them notice the giant ring on my finger?” You hold up your wedding rings, which glint even in the dim bar lighting and Jake takes your fingers in his hand, bending them towards himself before placing a kiss on your knuckles. You swoon. It’s impossible not to. “Don’t try to distract me, you’re in trouble.” 

“Come on darlin’,” His hand fell away from yours but moved slyly around your hip, where it curled around the belt loops of your shorts, and just then, while his face was inching towards yours, your wedding song came on. 

“When did this song get added to the jukebox?” 

“I may have put in a special request.” His smile did you in. You met him halfway and when your lips met that familiar kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight. Jake pulled away just to smile at you some more before pressing a few quick kisses to your lips. When he backed away enough, you took the chance to look over his shoulder and see what his friends thought. 

The entire group was standing around, completely gobsmacked at what just occurred and you could only imagine what was running through their minds. 

“After you, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake whispered in your ear. You gave him the best glare you could but he just laughed and grabbed your hand to walk you over to the group of people you already felt like you knew. 

Jake chuckled as you got within ear shot. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet someone,” he pulled you under his arm and you automatically slid your own across his back, “this is my wife.” He said it with genuine pride, a stark contrast to his usual cocky tone everyone was used to. 

“Wife?” Rooster repeated, dumbfounded.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Bradshaw.”

You ignored Jake and introduced yourself to everyone with a quick wave. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.” 

There was a beat of silence while you watched everyone process what was happening, but Phoenix broke it with a laugh. “You’ve been holding out on us, Bagman!” 

“Yeah, what the hell, man!” Rooster seemed downright offended that Jake would keep such a secret from them and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“It’s not all Jake’s fault,” You come to his defense, “we had a bet going, which I just lost.” 

“What bet did you two have?” Bob asked, coming forward to introduce himself to you properly. 

You shook his outstretched hand, smiling. “We wanted to see how long it would take for someone to figure out he was married.”

“You… you don’t wear a wedding ring?” Rooster seemed to be having the hardest time with this revelation and it was cracking you up. 

Jake pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt, proudly turning them around to display his gold wedding band that perfectly matched the one around your finger. They both belonged to his grandparents and he was so proud to give you his grandmother's band on your wedding day. 

Phoenix studied the two of you for a moment, watched the way you started to sway to a song and Jake immediately joined in, watched how his attention always drifted back to you, and how his entire cocky dimenor melted away as soon as you were near. 

“So, what’s the story? How did you manage to bag Hangman?” Natasha asked, leaning her hands on the pool cue in front of her. 

Jake pretended to be offended. “I’m not that wild.” 

You roll your eyes affectionately before diving into the story of how you and Jake met. It was nothing spectacular or anything you would want to make a movie about, but it was a whirlwind romance that ended in the two of you married in the Seresin family’s backyard three summers ago. 

When you finished your story, all smiles for your husband, Rooster raised his beer in a toast. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Seresin.” 

Jake couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to let the team in on his best-kept secret, even if he was gonna pay for her losing the bet later on tonight. 

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thanks for reading ily

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