#i have just under $500 in my savings

[toughtttz]

Weird weird rant thing about money or something like that. Idk I constantly feel like im over consuming so I probably am. I should just be kept in a facility where I can't own anything

The purvhaes I'm absolutely agonizing over for some reason

It was $50 in all and I just got rid of a bunch of stuff too + am in the process of getting rid of more. I don't know why I'm so hoard-y with my money and everything else.

Is it justified that I feel guilty for spending [what feels like) so much money ?? /gen

Maybe I should start selling my clothes online instead of just donating them so i wont feel like im constantly wasting money but I wouldn't be able to get them to a post office + I can't rlly walk to a post office. I *could* but it's a mile and a half from my house and I really don't want get jumped or kidnapped urhhhhhgggg. My brother has been jumped multiple times just walking around in our area + I'm not as strong as he is.

At least if I am over consuming the stuff is still thrifted ?? The only the that actually came from a corporation is the wristbands [which is obvious if your familiar with the brand]

[myballsitchaurghouchie]

Dad just showed me a sewing store with sooo many supplies and stuff and. I have inapropriate things to say about this store

[anadorablekiwi]

Me: no more spending. Grounded from spending. Save money. You need to get new front tires, and long term should save up for a car because your current one is already 14 years old

Also me: if i could find a gaming laptop that can comfortably run genshin without lag on low graphics for like $500 i could buy Aria an actual gaming laptop…

[q-kanbas]

I hate it but I think I'm going full speed on merch stuff.

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

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

[briarpatch-kids]

Something I don't think many people who don't have complex rehab powerchairs realize is that the cripple tax for us is so much higher.

I'm going to preface this with the statement that if you have a CRT powerchair, it's generally because you will literally die without one. There really is no "suffering without" if you don't have one, insurance or government schemes will not pay for it if you won't literally die without. Pretty often with "some people NEED wheelchairs and can't get by without them" type posts, the tags are filled with "i need this but just get by without" so I wanted to make sure people understand under no uncertain circumstances that people die waiting for approval of these and there is no getting by without if you have one. Some people do need them and get by without, but they are in the "this would vastly improve my life" need category rather than the "I will either get this or die" need category.

Anyways, once you're in the complex rehab category of disabled, the price of being disabled goes up by a MASSIVE amount. I am just barely in the complex rehab category, and my powerchair costs $23,000. This doesn't include the seat cushion or positioning equipment which likely adds another $1,000 minimum. It also doesn't include maintainance (last year mine was over $1,000 in parts cost before labor) Back when my needs were only a custom ultralight wheelchair with the basic seating options, I paid $3,500 for it so you get some context in how much the price SKYROCKETS once you get complex. Off the rack "standard" wheelchairs start at around $250.

My ventilator costs $500 a month in rental for just the box, you cannot buy one only rent. This doesn't include monthly checks, or all the tubes and masks and parts I need, I'd be willing to bet that adds on another couple hundred bucks.

My shower chair? It's a specialized one because I can't use the usual ones and that costs $2,000.

Additionally, because I need a caregiver, that adds another $1,800 a month to my price of living. I am in a special cost saving program that pays my spouse to do my bathing, dressing, and toileting so that would be higher for anyone else as well. This is not for 24 hour care, it's for bathing, dressing, and toileting.

My wheelchair van that I need in order to go anywhere beyond a mile from my house (like the doctors office) and was bought used at an age old enough to vote, that we were given a special discount and tax breaks for, cost us $7,500. If you don't get an ancient shitbox (said with love) like we have, they're around $65,000.

The bathroom remodel we had to do so I could pee and get showered was $17,000 and did not include anything high end, it was the cheapest we could do that met my needs.

The wheelchair ramp was $15,000 before labor to set it up.

None of these costs were optional, they weren't "improve my life" types of costs, they are "this is the minimum I need to live" costs. I know people who have even higher minimum costs to live, I'm pretty low on the "complex rehab" disability scale.

Tl;Dr whatever you think the highest cripple tax costs are for severely disabled people, quadruple them.

[kyri45]

There's the fight scene under the mountain, 500 years in one place is no short time and it's understandable that he returns there in his lowest moments. That terrible, dark cave where only his pain and suffering resonate - why couldn't I save you last time - that dialogue resonates in my head with this scene and now Mac had the chance to get Wukong out of there.

Ah redemption 🥰

YES. YES.

the show wont give us Mac comforting Wukong then I'll just have to do it myself

[ozzgin]

Ozzgin more than ever I really need a hacker yandere out to fight injustice done against me. Because why was my bank account hacked and someone tried it ed to steal 500$ bucks from me. Luckily I was able to lock my card and my bank is sending me a new one but I'm so so anxious at this point 😭

Yandere hacker would never let some twerps swindle me for my money like this(I'm sure they're a bunch of kids since the person tried to buy cs go ). He cares deeply for my digital footprints.

Oof, sorry it happened to you, pookie. Though I doubt a yandere would help you out of the goodness of his heart... content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation, stalking

Yandere!Hacker always makes sure that your digital presence remains untouched. Through some sheer luck or unknown forces, you've never had to deal with any kind of online misfortune. You'll offer your friends a sympathetic smile whenever they bemoan the persistence of some internet pervert, but you've been spared of such predatory approaches.

You'd almost be tempted to believe that these said malicious attacks are mere myths meant to scare the unseasoned traveler. You've never been hacked, never been scammed, never had your data or photos stolen from anywhere. Maybe you're just particularly careful, you tell yourself.

In reality, you've been under the watchful gaze of your online stalker. He dutifully keeps track of every move and every click you make. If someone were to save one of your photos for later purposes, for example, he'd immediately track them down and make sure they can never access a computer again.

Yandere!Hacker doesn't protect you out of pure, selfless intentions, however. When it comes to invading your privacy, he's a meticulous sleuth constantly outdoing himself. It's just, you see, no one else should have this kind of control over you. From the moment he stumbled upon your profile, he knew you'd be his. Thus, he can't allow anyone else to interfere with his grand adoration.

Your dating apps always fail to show you any matches, your flirty messages from suitors never arrive. He'll watch through the webcam he's hacked into as you sigh, disappointed, from yet another case of being ghosted. Oh, sweet, darling (Y/N), give him a little more time.

Yandere!Hacker isn't quite satisfied with watching you from afar. While it certainly is endearing to observe you in your raw, innocent obliviousness, while he frequently touches himself to the exhilaration of voyeurism, being a passive bystander can become exceptionally boring. He often wonders if your skin is as soft as it looks, or if you smell as sweet as he likes to imagine.

"This can't be..."

Tears well in your eyes as you stare, helpless, at the notification: your bank account has been drained. Someone must've emptied it, and - as a consequence - you are now utterly penniless. Just as another sob escapes your mouth, your screen lights up with a new message. An acquaintance you don't remember too well.

"Is everything alright with you, (Y/N)? I just wanted to remind you that you can always count on me for anything. I mean it."

He leans back in his chair with a grin. Now he waits. You're desperate enough that it shouldn't require much convincing for you to move in with him. Of course you can have his spare room. No, he truly doesn't need anything in return. You're his dear friend, and he's at your service.

You can always rely on him.

[More Yandere Stories]

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Showering with Bang Chan ‗ ❍

Pairing : Bang Chan x f reader

Summary : chapter one of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, nudity and suggestive themes involved but no smut fluff, literally ONE angst word, domestic!, channie best boyfriend idc

Word count : 500

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Imagine showering with Chan. It could either go very chill or very *exciting*. Usually starts with the first and follows with the second BUT- just in general it would be such an intimate time. The possibilities are endless to be honest.

You came to a certain point in your relationship in which you were a hundred percent comfortable with each other. And most importantly loved doing things for each other!

"Can you massage in the conditioner for me?" "Of course baby"

You'd both help the other, moving your hands up and down each other's bodies, often giving small massages and relaxing the tense muscles. Chan especially just melts whenever you touch him, two of his favorite spots bing his neck and shoulders.

"Oh my Gosh that hurts so good" he whines as your fingers work his aching neck, basically turned marble from being bent over a laptop all day.

"It hurts or it's nice, which one is it?" you tease him, chuckling. He groans slightly, almost too gone to even answer.

"Shush. Mmh, both. I don't know, just keep going" his head first leaning forward then back, almost touching your shoulder.

You'd relax together, getting all soapy and wet under the hot water. Sometimes just lazily hugging and making out, losing track of time.

"We should get out, it's getting so hot I think I may pass out" you murmur against his swollen lips. He starts kissing your neck instead, humming.

"You flatter me too much" it takes you a second to let sink in what he just said, but when it did, you lightly slapped his naked shoulder, snorting a laugh.

"Stupid" he smiled, chuckling cheekily, and you could literally feel it on your skin.

Sometimes it was a matter of saving time instead of having fun, though. Maybe one morning you were both running late so while he was shaving you were also shaving, or washing your hair. Or vice versa honestly.

And other times again you even had small arguments while showering. Nothing really major because it wasn't exactly appropriate to pour out your feelings while being literally naked and wet, but a few times it did happen.

It usually either ended up being interrupted and finishing once you were both dry and ready to go at each other, or literally be the calming moment you needed to clear things up.

"I'm sorry if i was an asshole earlier" he rests his forehead on the nape of your neck, wrapping his arms around you. You sigh, placing your hands on his jointed ones.

"I know you're very stressed" you start, turning your head to the side searching for his, "But thanks for the apology nonetheless"

"I love you", he nuzzled his nose on your cheek.

"I love you too" you pecked him on the lips as a confirmation you forgave him.

Anyways lots of cuddles and massages and kisses and stuff!! Chan king of caring for his partner 100% <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[angelic--kitty]

i can't believe tungle.hellsite won't let me submit my cooking to you pookie :(

dom!ceo arlecchino x sub!intern reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, power dynamics (ceo and intern)

a/n: i got you, i'm uploading it here. enjoy some delicious arlecchino x reader thoughts from bun, everyone ♡ and happy belated birthday, arlecchino ❤️

you're a brand new intern at a massive fortune 500 type company. there were a limited number of positions available and you already had to compete with the other fresh faced graduates just to interview here, and only a small number of you were hired on. despite being sold on the opportunity to "break into the industry with fresh new ideas" you mostly spent your day running around at the behest of disgruntled seniors- retrieving coffee and lunch orders, delivering documents to other branches, and taking notes during meetings- all largely thankless tasks. it's clear you're seen less as a potential new coworker and just another intern that'll be chewed up and spit out in a month. but you do your work, show up early and stay late to better your chances at getting the boss's attention.

and that you do.

despite your best intentions, you're clearly not the best intern; messed up and mixed up orders, misdelivery of correspondence, it was clear you were trying your best, yet you couldn't quite catch a break.

so the boss pulls you into her office, having you sit across from her desk. your head bowed in shame, not wanting to meet her gaze, instead staring down at the nameplate on her desk

_"arlecchino, chief executive officer"_

surely you're going to be fired, no amount of genuine intention or passion for the field could save you now.

she tells you you're not cut out to be an intern here, a sentiment you unfortunately agree with. and then, she offers you a different position... one that would mean no more running around the office trying not to spill coffee, or spending hours shredding papers for the seniors who haven't bothered to remember your name.

one that will technically have you working longer hours, but you were already coming early and staying late to prove yourself, so surely that won't be much of an issue. arlecchino herself was usually the first to arrive and last to leave anyway, so what better way to earn your salary here than spend those hours in her office, warming her cock?

of course, that's not all you're going to be doing. in between her own work and smoke breaks she does take a moment or two to push you up against the desk and give you a good fucking before resuming her work.

she'll keep you under her desk, patting your pretty little head while your lips are wrapped around her cock, telling you to keep quiet when one of your fellow coworkers stops by her office. she'll have you bent over that desk, challenging you to not make a sound as her hand assaults your cunt, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you while she's on a conference call, knowing even the smallest sound is going to be heard by everyone on the line.

officially, you've been "promoted" to her personal assistant. odd, considering she never expressed a need for an assistant in the past, always preferring to do her work herself. but you know exactly what she means by that title. to keep up appearances, she still has you doing some basic assistant tasks not unlike your intern duties. why don't you go fetch her a coffee, sweetheart? don't worry, she'll keep your panties here in her desk until you get back. be a good girl and take some notes for her during the board meeting, if you can concentrate that is, given how she's fiddling with that vibe she stuffed inside you.

there's a big conference happening overseas, and she'll have to take a business trip out for it. good thing the company pays for the nicest hotels in the area, and how thoughtful that she was able to bring you along for the trip. sure she'll be dragging you along to boring business meetings, with She’s dragging you along to boring business meetings, your instructions being to sit quietly and nod along, take some notes, and don’t give away the fact that she made you cum in the elevator on the way up here.

the more you behave, the more she rewards you, and the further she starts to push things. you handled that meeting well, now let's see if you can handle sitting through another without your panties and her cum slowly leaking out of you. no need for notes at this meeting, but you still need to look busy, so why don't you write down some ideas for what she should do to you once you're back at the hotel? the flight home is booked an entire day after the conference and all the meetings have ended, just so she has some extra time to fuck you stupid before you two leave; a whole extra day with no obligations, dedicated to you naked in that bed and her belt wrapped around your neck like a collar.

when you get back to the office the next day, your legs are still trembling like a newborn lamb. "poor thing doesn’t do so well on planes" she’d tell anyone who asked, as if you two weren’t riding first class with her hand shoved up your cunt a majority of the flight

[buckyalpine]

Bucky x civilian reader

JESSY REACHES 500

I wrote this for my most precious bb, @jessybarnes congratulations my angel, you deserve ALL the followers.

Warnings: angstttyy, Bucky's an idiot, fluffyy, friends with benefits to lovers, I hope your chest itches a lil.

Prompt: "I can't keep doing this, I can't keep giving you chances just for you to break my heart over and over again."

"Morning Doll" His husky voice stirred you awake, the cool tips of his fingers sending shivers down your spine as he traced up and down your bare back. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Bucky barely gave you a chance to respond, throwing the covers off, exposing you to the cool air of your bedroom as he rummaged around for his boxers which he'd tossed off haphazardly the night before.

"Alright" You mustered a smile as he pecked your head, seeing himself out and locking the door with the spare key you gave him. It would be weeks before you saw him again, going back to your regular schedule while he was off saving the world.

You had an interesting relationship with Bucky Barnes.

You'd met when he came to return a copy of the Hobbit at the library you worked at, tossing your a charming smirk before going to browse for more books. One night after a few more flirty comments and innocent touches later, you found yourself with your hands down each others pants, his lips smashed against yours to keep your moans down, the both of you hidden between the bookshelves.

He eventually started coming over to your place instead, exploring every bit of your body like he owned it, spending hours taking you both to new heights until he couldn't move. It was pure sex and the absolute best you'd ever had. Bucky made you forget your own name, only having the ability to moan and take everything he was giving you.

It was the perfect arrangement for him; something lowkey to help with the stress of his job without having to commit to much more. After you started to pick up more shifts at the library, you even gave his own key to your place to let himself in on days where you hadn't gotten home yet.

That was nearly a year ago.

You sighed, pulling the covers back over yourself, his scent still lingering on the sheets and pillow making your heart flutter, already waiting for the next time he'd be over. You hated the feeling, knowing your feelings were going further than what Bucky wanted. You hated every time he had to leave, the butterflies in your tummy fluttering wildly whenever he his name popped up on your phone.

Your heart would beat faster every time he kissed you, biting your tongue from telling him you didn't want him to go, you couldn't just be a person to keep his bed warm, you wanted more, you loved him-

Fuck.

You loved him.

You shook your head, ignoring the tightness that started to constrict your throat, feeling worse than the last time he'd left.

Why the fuck did you fall for him.

-

"Maybe we could go out?" You tried, hoping for once one of your rendezvous wouldn't be just sex. Bucky hummed, holding you closer to his bare chest, your bodies tangled under the sheets after he'd taken you apart, coming straight to your place as soon as he jet had landed.

"Sure, how about we grab coffee next time?" He mumbled, rutting his hips up, already hard again, rolling on top of you, peppering kisses down your neck before you could respond.

"Wait, Bu-oh god" Your words melted into moans as he made himself comfortable between your legs, neither of you brining up those plans again for the rest of the night. He stayed over as always, leaving before you stirred, the bed cold and empty when you woke up the next day to a text message from him.

Had to leave early, see you when I'm back x

You blinked, chewing your lip, debating on how to respond, a part of you still hoping he'd be open to spending time with you outside of just needing something physical.

Sure! Let's go to the cafe nearby? I've been dying to go

You typed and deleted the message 3 times before finally hitting send, tossing your phone aside, anxiety clouding your mind wondering how he'd respond.

Then he didn't.

You waited the entire week for him to respond to your message, the read at 6:03 staring you in the face, making your cheeks heat up from embarrassment, imagining the way he probably opened and closed the chat, forgetting your very existence until he had needs again.

Why did you even try.

You harshly wiped the tears that streaked down your face, chewing the inside of your cheek, freezing when the lock of your door turned, the familiar sound of his bag hitting the floor. You quickly splashed water onto your face, hiding any evidence of emotion when Bucky popped his head into your room, finding you in the bathroom.

"Hi doll" He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist, dragging you to bed and flopping over, making him self comfortable with his head on your chest.

"Hi Buck" You cleared your throat, hoping he wouldn't hear the shake in your voice, carding your fingers though his hair, instantly betraying yourself and melting into him when his hands made their way up your shirt.

"Missed this" he groaned, his sinful lips kissing down your neck and shoulders, slotting himself between your legs. "Thought about it all week"

All week.

When I waited for you to reply at least once.

You felt your eyes sting, forcing back the way your felt for what was happening in the moment. He made it clear what he wanted from you but you weren't sure how much more you could take. You succumbed to his charm, the sheets warm, your body slick with sweat, your face resting against his chest, his arm holding you securely, letting his warm breath tickle your skin.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Bucky's nose nuzzled into your neck, pulling away slightly when he felt you tense in his hold, not responding, "Doll?"

"Maybe-maybe we shouldn't do this anymore" Your throat burned with how hard you were trying to keep from crying, keeping your eyes trained on his chest instead of his sweet baby blues you'd fallen for.

"Why not" Bucky frowned while you shifted uncomfortably.

"What are we Bucky"

"Y/n, we talked about this" He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. You hated the way his arms loosened around you, pulling away his warmth with it, your body curling in on itself as he got off the bed to put his clothes on.

"I know but- I just- I feel used, it's like I'm some dirty secret" you brought your knees to your chest, digging your nails into your palms while he pulled his hoodie over his head. "We've never done anything else other than fuck in my apartment!"

"Its not like that" He argued back, sitting back down at by the edge of the bed.

"Bucky, no one even knows I exist. Tell me, does Steve even know?"

He chewed his lip before shaking his head. He hadn't told anyone about you, not even his best friend. You scoffed, feeling more pathetic than ever, your stomach churning seeing the distance already starting to grow between you both.

"See what I mean? You won't even go out for coffee with me, is just all sex. Is that all I am to you?"

"We both agreed to keep this casual, you know I'm not ready for a relationship y/n, I-I never saw you like that" His words cut deeper, the pit in your stomach growing heavier as he looked at you with pity. "Y/n-

"Fine" You blinked back the stubborn tears that kept welling in your eyes, harshly swiping your cheek as they started to stream down your face, "I get it"

"So where do we go from here" Bucky sighed, a part of him wanting to reach out and wipe the tears that streaked down your cheeks and hold you in his arms, hating the way he could see your heart breaking because of him.

"I can't keep doing this, I can't keep giving you chances just for you to break my heart over and over again." Your voice began to crack, wrapping your arms around your knees, pulling them to your chest, "I-I keep waiting for the day you'd feel differently but I get it, it's not happening"

"I'm sorry" Bucky whispered, almost reaching out to hold you one last time, deciding against it as he got up and made his way out of your room for the last time. His chest ached when he heard the first sob slip past your lips, softly closing the door behind him.

You cried your heard out, the pain far worse than you imagined it to be, wishing you'd kept your feelings to yourself because now you'd lost Bucky forever. You wouldn't wake up to him sneaking into your room for cuddles. You wouldn't walk into your apartment to find him crashed on your couch. You wouldn't wake up wrapped in his arms, legs tangled together with naughty kisses first thing in the morning.

Why did you fall so hard for him.

-

"Alright, what's going on with him" Tony huffed, "He's more grumpy than usual and I'm going to lose my billionaire status with how many punching bags I've replaced within the last week. Rogers?"

Steve shrugged, equally confused and worried as to why his best friend was far more moody than usual. There hadn't been any particularly grueling missions recently and there was nothing scheduled for the month. Over the past few weeks, Bucky had been closed off, secluded in his room, only leaving to spend time in the gym, breaking bags left, right and center.

"What's wrong with you" Steve found the soldier in the gym, grunting between punches, sweat dripping down his body, jaw clenched as he landed another hit, causing the leather to give way with sand spilling to the floor.

"Nothing" Bucky shook his head, hardly registering the sting of his split knuckles, panting while his heart thudded against his chest, having gone at it for the past hour, non stop.

"Buck, this is the fourth bag you've broken" Steve sighed, while Bucky huffed in response, already making his way to the rack to grab a new one.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a girl, would it?" The blonde smirked, carefully watching his face. Bucky's eyes grew wide, blinking while Steve stared at him knowingly.

"N-no" Bucky shook his head, no, this had nothing to do with a girl, nor did it have to do with feelings. He didn't actually care about this girl or miss her, he didn't crave to feel her warmth, he was perfectly capable of falling asleep without cuddling her to his chest. He didn't miss her sweet laugh or cute shy smile. He didn't care that he couldn't hear her voice anymore and she didn't appear in every single one of his dreams, making his heart yearn for her more-

"Buck, seriously?" Steve deadpanned at his best friends lovesick puppy face while Bucky chewed his lip.

"You knew?"

"Not a lot" Steve shrugged. "Saw you talking to that cute librarian once when I was out for a run with Sam. S'not hard to figure out, considering you went from acting like the world was full of sunshine and rainbows to being a grumpy asshole all over again. So what happened"

Bucky only intended on giving Steve the most sparse details but once he started he couldn't stop. The more he spoke, the more it dawned on him that none of it was casual to begin with, that he'd fallen hard, deeply in love with you.

"You love her" Steve stated, seeing clear at day his best friend was an idiot.

"I don't love her" Bucky scoffed, his cheeks blushing at the way Steve cocked an eyebrow, "I love her"

"Go tell her you punk" Steve smacked him upside the head, chuckling as Bucky dashed out of the gym, running straight to his room to shower and change. He trembled like a leaf he entire time, feeling a mixture of excitement and fear, feeling awful for hurting you, awful for bottling and ignoring his feelings while hoping and praying you'd forgive him.

He thought about all the times he wanted more with you, about what it would be like for you to be his girl, fuck there had been nights where he'd even dreamt of spending his life with you. He hid it all away, convincing himself he didn't need anything else, that it was for the best for both of you even if you did make his heart feel whole.

He knew he wanted to be your man, every time he walked through your door, the stresses of his day instantly melting away, feeling like he was home. Nothing comforted him more than holding you in his arms, never wanting to let go.

He hopped onto his motor bike, swerving through the streets, taking the stairs two at a time to get back to you as fast as he could, not wanting to waste another minute. He shamelessly pulled out the spare key, knowing you'd be home around this time considering he had your scheduled memorized by now. Usually around this time, you liked to lounge on the couch under a pile of blankets with your comfort show on.

"Doll?" Bucky quietly unlocked the door, toeing his boots off, the scent of your home already causing his emotions to fly around wildly. He felt like he was home, whole once again, why did he ever let this go.

"Baby, where are you" Bucky called, frowning when he saw your house keys still hanging by the door yet found the living room empty. He continued to search for you, quietly pushing your bedroom door open, melting at the sight of your curled up form, sleeping under a pile of blankets. He felt a pang in his chest seeing tear streaks down your cheeks, evident that you'd been crying.

You stirred at the sound of the door creaking, shifting in your sleep as he quietly made his way over, gently coaxing you awake.

"Hey doll" he whispered, stroking your face with his metal hand, like he always did when he came over in the middle of a night, usually when he couldn't sleep or whenever missions finished and he immediately needed to come and see you.

"Bucky?" Your voice cracked, rubbing sleep from your eyes, unsure if you were dreaming when you felt the bed dip and his cool melt fingers stroking your cheek, the familiar scent of him making you feel giddy after you missed him so much. "What-what are you doing here"

"I- He paused, unsure of where to even start, guilt already consuming him for making you feel like he never cared for you in the first place. "I'm sorry doll. I'm so sorry"

"For what" You scoffed softly, sniffling back fresh tears that wanted to spill, still struggling to mend your broken heart, "Was there something you needed again" Your defeated voice made Bucky feel worse, realizing you probably thought he was back to use you, when you had all the rights to kick him out of your room immediately.

"No! No baby, never. I-I'm not here for that y/n, I promise" Bucky scrambled to your side, reaching for your hands, pressing them to his chest, his heart hammering against his ribcage. "I'm so sorry for what I said to you baby, it wasn't true, I didn't even realize how I felt about you. I missed you so much" HIs eyes were desperately pleading with you to believe him.

"You-you said you never saw me that way" you whispered, shrinking away from him once again, too scared to let him hurt you a second time. "You left me Bucky"

"Baby, look at me" He begged, hesitantly reaching out to cup your cheeks, relaxing a little when you didn't flinch away. "Please sweets, I mean it. I did see you that way. I care about you, fuck, I love you y/n" As soon as the words left Bucky's mouth, he felt complete like never before. It was like his heart stitched itself back together, feeling free, realizing how true it was. He loved you, more than anything else.

"No you don't Bucky" you couldn't bring yourself to believe him, gasping when he pulled you into his arms, his thumb stroking your face.

"I do doll, I promise I do. I was too stupid to realize it even when it was obvious. I thought about you every second of the day, you know that? Whenever the jet would land, I'd run straight to you because I just wanted to come home. I just wanted to come straight to you. You were my everything, i wanted to keep you protected, just live in a world where it was just you and me. I fell in love with you angel, tried to convince myself every single day that what I felt for you was nothing more"

"Bucky-

"Steve knew" Bucky cut you off, chuckling at your confused, pouty expression.

"What?"

"He knew. He didn't know everything but he knew enough to piece together why I was acting like a love stuck idiot. You have no idea what kind of effect you had on me doll. I was the happiest I've ever been with you. My heart was breakin' without you baby, I just wanted my girl back"

"Your girl?" You whispered softly, your cheeks heating up at the thought while Bucky nodded, pulling you down to lay with him.

"My girl. All mine. Can't believe I tried to ignore it, I've been in love with you for so long doll. M'sorry I hurt you angel, I'll never break your heart again, I promise" He held you to his chest, his words making your eyes water, burying yourself in his warmth. He kissed the tears that spilled from your lashes, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Will you be mine? Really mine?"

"M'yours Bucky" your voice was muffled, clinging onto him while he wrapped his arms around you, stroking your hair.

"Y'know this means you'll have to put up with Steve and Sam" Bucky playfully teased making you giggle, already aware his friends would probably start to follow him once they officially found out about you. "and you'll have to be my date for all of Tony's extravagant shit"

"That doesn't sound so bad" You quipped, while Bucky rolled over, tucking his face against your neck, needily cuddling into you, craving your warmth after weeks of having been apart.

"That's because you've never seen me drink, sugar" Bucky hummed, sleep already starting to claim him, hugging you tightly as he closed his eyes. "Might even drunkenly ask you to marry me"

"I'd drunkenly say yes" you hummed, wrapping your body around his, he warmth of his skin making your eyes grow heavy.

"I love you doll" Bucky whispered before falling fast asleep in your arms, the world once again filled with sunshine with rainbows now that he was finally with you.

His girl.

His home.

[hoshizoralone]

a post where i separate every woman in smash by how i would categorize them in relation to samus if she had a dating sim and they had to be assigned a character type (that im saving here in case i ever want to go back to think about this) . and other samus & smash girls shipping thoughts

firstly i originally posted this on bluesky so if you’re not following me there.. go do that!! @hoshizoralone.bsky.social

explanations for the tropes are as follows:

childhood friend - palutena (kid icarus and metroid game overlaps of which there are many. like come on man... this is a nobrainer)

energetic cute girls - peach/daisy/pyra (daisy is jock leaning)

jocks - wii fit trainer/alex/mythra

mysterious transfer student - sheik/mii gunner/rosalina/lucina (though samus is not in school. but i'm not sure how else to explain this trope. maybe just "mysterious character")

the love interest that openly flirts with the mc - bayonetta

(varying degrees of) nerds, the smart girls - byleth/robin/zelda/isabelle (like lets say they were put into a scenario with samus. they would be the brains of the operation. robin would have had the adam stuff in dread solved immediately)

i don't care - corrin (i really tried to think of what trope she could be but i don't even imagine samus would like her)

not viable (teenagers). these two become a background couple - min-min/leaf (well, i had thought this, but after making the post on bluesky someone told me leaf’s canon age is 11. i had thought she was nebulously teenaged…. so either age her up here, or forget this tier exists)

not viable (babies) - villagers/inklings/wendy/nana

i do think the idea of creating a sim revolving around samus would be fun, only issue is the pression has truly kicked my ass this year and i really am all out of writing ability. i have two other games already sitting in my drafts half finished…

it could make for a fun rom hack though. Maybe instead of the chozo giving you power ups its the other girls . And at the end you have to Save The Girls not the animals. Someone make that happen.

~~~~

the above isnt arranged by how much i ship it but the below is. imagine gandrayda (of metroid prime 3 fame) right under samus and then a massive powergap and then the rest of the chart:

two professional girlfailures are facing off head to head in this 500 chapter slow burn sam/palu fanfiction - palutena (palutena is a girlfailure at everything but samus only falls into that category for women. it would be an extremely long time for samus to realize palutena likes her . could they make it work when they're both so busy? read my nonexistent fic to find out)

samus has a one sided crush - peach/rosalina/wii fit trainer. (samus will never confess. peach has mario and samus isnt messing w that. samus thinks she's not cool enough for rosalina. wft is already in a relationship consult the lone wii fit trainer lore)

(in my head samus’s one sided crushes are justified like this:

peach - she is literally so pretty it’s blinding. peak femininity is making samus short circuit

rosalina - parentless lady from space who has been left alone/feels lonely resonates hard

wft - she gives constant positive feedback which i think samus is starved to hear)

i used to love sam/bayo but bayo3 sucked so i kinda dont care about it anymore - bayonetta. sad day.

one sided crush on samus - alex/robin/zelda/lucina

samus-neutral - sheik/byleth/isabelle/gunner/pymythra/daisy/corrin. (they probably wouldnt pass up the opportunity to kiss samus if given one but they're not having their thoughts occupied by her)

one sided childhood crush (thinks she's cool) (not reciprocated) - min-min (samus is sort of like a celebrity. it's sort of like having a crush on zac efron when hes 18 and youre 7)

i consider samus in her 30s so every teenager and baby who doesn't have a cute unreciprocated crush is out of the running - leaf/villagers/inklings/nana/wendy

someone had asked… where’s dark samus. for me as one of the five samus x gandrayda shippers, i think if there was a dating sim and dark samus was in it samus would immediately halt the events of the dating sim to go hunt her down as repayment for everything + the whole killing her girlfriend thing. like she cant exist in this world.

the only other samus thing i ship that isn’t mentioned here already is samus x cortana. it could be cute. i do Naut ship her with any guys. lesbian samus for life

aside from samus x gandrayda which will probably always be my ride or die ship, i think the ship with the most interesting stuff to explore is samus/palutena… they aren’t alike characterwise at all, but it’s just that their series are linked in a metatextual sense, so its fun to imagine them together. in a “we’ve been hanging around each other for a while!” kind of way. well, opposites attract..

anyways that was my post. If you read this and have thoughts let me know. Maybe i’ll draw some stuff in my freetime. Cool thanks love ya bye.

[deathbxnny]

Anything for Natlan. Everything for Natlan. (Mavuika x GN!Reader)

A/N: As promised, here is the one-shot I spoke about! My health is unfortunately still very bad, but I'm desperate to write something and therefore hope you'll like this guys!<33

Content: Heavy angst, spoilers for the Natlan quest!, vague death of reader, hurt/no comfort, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

"So this is it? That's all you have to say?!" You stand on the steps to your once shared home, body trembling from the anger that coursed through you. The moon was high in the stary night sky, which reflected in your tearful eyes Mavuika had to turn away from. She was at a loss for words, unsure if there was even anything more to say. Because there truthfully wasn't. She had made up her mind whether you liked it or not.

"All these years we've spent together, all the promises we've made, this ring-" You held your hand out towards her, and you knew she could imagine it glinting in the moonlight beautifully as it always did. "-did it mean nothing to you? Nothing at all?" She didn't necessarily ever expect you to understand. If anything, she was glad that you were so angry, so enraged. It made things easier.

It made the reality of your situation easier.

She was leaving, planning to reincarnate in about 500 years to save your home from its demise. It was a hard feat, and it didn't mean that it could work out in the end. The world could still end, and the Abyss could still take over Natlan. Everything could have just been for nothing. But she needed to proceed with the plan anyway. It was a risk she was more than ready to take.

But you both knew that by the time she returned, you would be dead. Just like the rest of her family and friends here.

Mortality was beyond her now. She had found a way to cheat death and bring back hope to everyone. Except for you. It would be selfish of her to ask for you to understand, right? You wouldn't, and you couldn't, bare to let her go. You didn't care about tomorrow or the day after it if she wasn't there with you. And what would you do in her absence?

She imagined you slowly withering away as the years went by, sitting on the steps leading to your house whilst you wait for her return. Once you die, you'll search for her in the afterlife, only to realise that she had never even entered it. Would you feel betrayed then, too? You didn't know the extent of her plans. You were no warrior. You were a fleeting simplicity she deeply yearned for but knew she could never have as Natlan's Archon. You were her ultimate sacrifice. The one thing that tethered her to what she once was, to who she once was. To the mortal you married.

When did things go wrong? Why did she have to be the one to take on the burden of an unstoppable war? Why did she have to give up everything so that her friends could continue living their life's with their families? Why couldn't she do the same?

Hanging her head in shame, she heard her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, her breath short and unsteady as the doubts crept in. "I'm sorry. I don't expect you to understand." She finally said, and silence followed. It wasn't good enough. Nothing she told you now would be good enough. "You... mean the world to me." She still didn't turn around. Her heart couldn't let her do so. She'd never leave if she did. "And for that reason, I need to make this sacrifice. Natlan will never be free otherwise... and I'm sure we will meet again one day. Under the stary night, just like the first day we met."

"Many hardships await us from here. But I know you'll make it. You're strong, far stronger than I." She straightened up again, a deep, shaky breath leaving her lips. It was time. "Mavuika! Don't you dare leave me, I can't - " The woman began walking away calmly, her face devoid of any emotion but determination as she relished in the last remnants of your voice. "-I can't live in this world without you, I beg of you to stay damnit! Please don't leave me! Mavuika!" And yet, for some reason, you didn't chase her down. You didn't stop her from leaving. Deep down, you ultimately understood what she was doing. You were always so intelligent, so smart. You were the only one to truly get her. But even that wasn't enough. Your heart belonged to her, and she was willing to toss it in the flames, too.

Mavuika never turned around to face you that night, and you never stopped her either. You were the last person she said her goodbye's too before proceeding with her plans. Her heart wavered for a split moment, but she knew that this was fate calling out to her. This is life. Complex and ruthless as ever. Her emotions and past didn't matter, only what she was willing to sacrifice did.

Centuries later, she found herself beginning to hate hearing that word.

"Oh! We get it... so who is that?" Paimon's voice rang out, cutting through her mind as they stared at a picture of you and her family together, smiles bright and happy, unaware of the doom that would follow you soon. She chuckled at the question, eyes trailing over your face for what felt like the millionth time, and yet she could never get bored of it. If only she could remember what you sounded like...

"That... was my lover. I don't really know what happened to them after I left... but I believe they became a writer." Or at least, that's what she could gather from the small records that were left of you from 500 years ago. You had left your tribe and traveled all over Natlan. Your records and stories were still used by historians and tribesmen alike for retellings. But the only book she was able to get her hands on that proved all of this was the final book you wrote after having returned to your old home.

Paimon and the traveler glanced at each other with a solemn look, not knowing what else to say. The Archon's way to glory was tragic and painful. It was beyond them how someone could give up everything so willingly. And yet they had no time to ponder, as the next part of their to save Kichina plans came up.

Mavuika stayed behind, her hand carefully brushing against the worn-out book, which rested next to picture frame, not needing to open it to read it. She had memorized every sentence, every word, every letter. Sighing to herself, she knew that she'd have to sacrifice the last of you with it. This was all she had left.

But even you, once you reached your late 70s and settled down once more after years of travel, understood the meaning of her sacrifice at last. Walking away from the book and the picture frame, she recited the last paragraph in you ever wrote, deciding to leave her past at that. Guided through your own final words.

"And if Natlan one day can bathe in the scorching sun undisturbed and free from the hate of the Abyss, then I'd say my pain was worth something after all at last. I wasted decades looking for an answer to why you did it, Mavuika, and even now, my heart struggles to understand its loss. But one thing is clear now. One thing that we both knew from the start:

Anything for Natlan.

Everything for Natlan.

And may that never change until the last flickers of the sacred flames burn your heart and warm your face, just like I once did."

[k-hotchoisan]

🌶️spicy boys🌶️

Please do note before you proceed:

Majority of my fics are smuts. But I will preface it in my warnings. Please MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There will be instances where I will write about other fandoms. Tags will be placed for identification.

These fics are NOT actual representation of the idols’ personalities in real life. These are works of fiction and are HEADCANNONS.

I do take requests. No gore, violence, dub con, and anything I’m uncomfortable with will NOT BE entertained.

Please DO NOT reproduce my fics (straight up copy/paste and posting it on other sites) without my permission. That is plagiarism + I literally am writing for free for my readers. Do not disrespect my work.

Please do enjoy your stay here. 🌶️❤️

🌱 Requests: open! It's hard hours! 🌶️👹

🌱 status: semi inactive 🐻 (please be patient with me!)

<3 I write for free so please be patient with me while I churn out your requests 🩷

❤️ love & deep space blog

🌱Networks:

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🌱 I do requests and write for free, but I would love it if you ☕️ bought me coffee🩷

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🌱 dividers from @cafekitsune 🦊🧡

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

LIST

🌶️ - smut

🩷 - requests

🌸 - fluff

🥀 - angst

Ateez

Special Masterlists

🌶️ ♡ How to be a heartbreaker ♡ (various x reader)

🌶️ 🌶️K’s 500: This or that?🌶️

🌶️ stay perverted: the masterlist (1.5K followers celebration)

🌶️ K’s Twisted Wonderland 🍄 (2K followers celebration

Hongjoong

🌶️🩷🌸 first time’s the charm

🌶️🩷 all hands on me

🌶️ wetting your lips - stay perverted series

Seonghwa

🌶️🌸 toothbrush

🌶️🩷 agora hills

🌶️🩷 seonghwa licking chocolate off your tits pt.2

🌶️ Seonghwa’s bite kink

🌶️ heavy and sticky — stay perverted series

🌶️ missing piece — bro x aubs collab

Yunho

🌶️🩷 under the influence

🌶️🩷 Yunho & his hands

🌶️🩷 golden retriever

🌶️ Yuyu’s hands pt2

🌶️ body language - stay perverted series

Yeosang

🌶️ active recovery

🌶️ sticky web

🌶️ vanilla and cream - stay perverted series

🌶️🩷 alrighty aphrodite

San

🌶️ Soaking Wet

🌶️ in my head

🌶️ Divination with the Demon

🌶️ the last of the real ones

🌶️ Seven minutes in heaven, but make it San

🌶️ good girl’s guide to summoning a demon 👻✨FRIDAY 13TH SPECIAL✨👻

🌶️ word vomit about being choked by San

🌶️ what’s so great about hoodie season? (San)

🌶️ “just the tip” (san)

🌶️🩷 when San’s a little too jealous

🌶️🩷 snap

🌶️🩷 angelholic

🌶️🩷 San choking you while he fucks you

🌶️🩷 san overstimulating you

🌶️ the scentist - stay perverted series

🌶️🩷 pretty kitty

🌶️ save a horse, ride a cowboy

🌶️ his favourite (Choi San’s birthday special)

🌶️ coming home with me

Mingi

🌶️ seven minutes in heaven

🌶️ when mingi cums on your face

🌶️🩷 I want you

🌶️ under the sheets - stay perverted series

🌶️ backseat serenade

Wooyoung

🌶️🩷 slow down

🌶️ and you never invited me?

🌶️ to the side(p1) /from the back(p2) - stay perverted series

🌶️ how to tame a brat tamer

Jongho

🌶️🌸 almost natural

🌶️ touch and sketch - stay perverted series

Two's a crowd, why not have more?

🌶️🩷 good cop, bad cop (Seonghwa x fem!reader x Yunho)

🌶️🩷 when the gang is banging (OT8)

🌶️🩷 when your daddies come home from work (sanhwa x fem!reader)

🌶️🩷 7 minutes of compensation (yunhwa x fem!reader)

🌶️🩷 play rough (sanhwa x fem!reader)

© All rights reserved to k-hotchoisan

[faeryarchives]

heartslabyul with a furina-like female reader! the "regina of all waters, kindreds, peoples and laws" is deeply loved by all. under her flamboyant and imprudent facade, lies a girl holding an unbearable weight and guilt on her shoulders to save her people. note: contains major spoilers about fontaine story quests (you have been warned) !! furina - like female reader series: savanaclaw recent fics: you feel like home & octavinelle with a fischl like female reader! & i'm not jealous !! (savanaclaw x gn!reader)

-‘๑’- riddle rosehearts

"who are you people? and why are you all dressed suspiciously? no, don't come near me, i am warning you!" "calm dow- where did these water familiars came from?!" "stay back i said!"

riddle was taken aback by your sudden behavior and your ability to wield a sword as well as commanding your familiar like it's your second nature! but weapons are still not allowed on school grounds 🤬

after the incident, riddle thought he wouldn't interact with you again when somehow manage your way to the dorm and stepped in when he was about to collar his dorm mates

"i don't think it's appropriate for you to chain your subjects like prisoners, mr. riddle. that is not a proper way of to rule." "don't stand in my way, what do you know about ruling?!" "... you have no idea."

and you proved him so wrong after overhearing your conversation with your heartslabyul friends. it's not like he intended to eavesdrop but it just happened that he was passing by

"after 500 years of acting on stage - i am finally free to live as a normal human again without the need to act as a strong and more god-like version of myself. but the problem is, i don't know where to start."

riddle made it his mission to always make you feel welcomed in the heartslabyul dorm and gradually became close friends with you

who knew that the two of you are similar to each other? from ruling over a community to having tea parties and your love for sweets

"riddle, you can enjoy sweets as much as you want. you dont need to follow such suffocating rules." "...what a pleasant surprise, truly an extra slice of joy."

believe it when i say he is very fond of your salon members and even went out his way to always give them a proper greeting and send them invitations for the unbirthday parties.

it was like he is healing his inner child along with you + very comfortable to the point that he doesn't even hesitate to ask you for advice 🫡 rather than an older sister you were like his twin

-‘๑’- trey clover

it is bad to have favoritism but trey clover took the cake immediately after watching him bake the most delicious cake you ever tasted

sorry to all fontaine patissier or fontaine in general but maybe you might as well stay in this world ... kidding 🧍🏻‍♀️

out of everyone you met, trey's firs impression was the second best (kalim being first for obvious reasons) he was like your dear friend who adores tea time but more laid back verion of them

"what a rich aroma and delicate texture... i didn't expect you to be such an accomplished cook... with refined taste, as well!" "a compliment from the regina herself is such a worthy praise for someone like me." "nonsense, trey! you are the best one out there!"

with curiosity getting the best of you, you always try to help out during the unbirthday parties and learn how to cook and bake from the vice dorm leader

... after all having pasta everyday is not very healthy 😭

listens to your rambles about the novels you've read befora and suggests you some that he have on hand! at this point he might as well be your guardian angel

despite being smaller than most of the student at nrc - you shocked the whole heartslabyul group after fighting off the known bully group of seniors trying to scare some freshmen

"now go along and never show your faces to me again. capiche?" "woah, i thought you said you are not used to battling!" "mmm, i did. but it's different from my abilities, no?"

you were the opposite of trey, rather than being embarrassed, you know your strengths and weaknesses and use it to your advantage

"trey, don't tell me you are just an ordinary person, you liar. you can't fool me with your downplaying talk!"

he can't fool you with that but trey pulls some harmless pranks on you by tricking you in putting a different recipe in the pie orsomething

he learned his lesson after you really followed his instructions and became the first victim to his own prank

you always seem to pride yourself as a strong and capable woman and how despite everything you are going through you always go for it headstrong

"now look at you, getting sick. i told you not to overwork yourself right?" "mmm, sorry big brother..."

did you just say 🥺 older 🥺 brother? after that he wears that title like a cape everyday and even brags it to cater 😭

-‘๑’- cater diamond

oh cater absolutely adores you the moment he saw your outfit because it is so well made?! 🫨 not only that - you were like giving the total celebrity vibes

"you have an eye for discerning people! yes, i am once the most beloved star of my country... but that time already came to an end."

sometimes while he tags along whenever you, grim and the adeuce duo hangs out - he always had this feeling that you are staring deep into his soul 👁️👁️

as much as he puts up his usual cheerful facade to fool you, it was like arguing up to a wall and you finally pointed it out one day during your tea parties

"you know, you don't have to force yourself to eat sweets. i cooked some habanero pepper cream pasta earlier with

you might as well become his favorite underclassman 🥺

no wonder you were able to read him so well because you revealed that some how seeing him act in such way reminds him of yourself in the past

"sometimes acting for so long can make you wonder if people can really see through you or was it all fake." "but that is how it is right? how can other people know us when we don't even know ourselves?"

anyways! every now and then, cater would appear right on your doorsteps with small clothes and hats in shopping bags to give it to the salon members

it was funny to see your salon members have a new member and they treat him like their own son 😭🤍

as much as he want to tease you sometimes - he try not to over do it after seeing you let the salon trio chase after ace and grim all over the maze with threatening looks in their eyes.

"wow, mademoiselle crabaletta looks so energetic when she got to hit ace at the back of his head." "well, ace did pissed her off by playing rock paper scissors with her." "... did she win?" "i don't know, you tell me big brother cater."

... he will never let it down after owning his title as your big brother 😭 get ready to receive random gifts every now and then because this big brother cater is ready to spoil you to rotten

-‘๑’- ace trappola

having to get sprayed and hit by multiple bubbles in the face was certainly not on ace's list 😭 remind him to never play rock paper scissors with mademoiselle crabaletta ever again

he really like to be your friend genuinely 🙏 not that you mind though because ace is fun to talk too + you were able to adapt and learn about this world thanks to him, deuce and grim

but sometimes, he can be a little too reckless in roping you in trouble

"woah! (name) put mr seahorse down and let's talk about this!" "oh so you prefer my sword instead?" "it was just a harmless prank!" "then why is there an anemone on grim's head, again?!"

after you were comfortable enough to tell your story - ace thought he was actually dreaming because how did you stay sane after that 500 years?!

will ask you to help him with his studies and practicing magic + probably thought you were clueless but after years of searching every nook and nanny in your nation's library, you were like a walking dictionary

"how come you get a higher score than me in animal languages?!" "i was wondering how on teyvat did you get a lower score than me?"

omg you traitor 👩🏻‍⚖️

your number one buddy with midnight snacks + everytime he would sneak out of the dorm he always bring some sweets as a bribe to let him stay

there are times that you always fool ace by acting especially in front ofriddle when he accidentally dropped your cake in accident

despite the shenanigans between you two, he always trusts you to have his back

"(nickname) cover for me!" "alright! let the world come alive, hehe!"

whenever the salon members feel silly, they will go and chase after him and you just let them be - even they shower him with love in unexpected ways.

"recently, i've been wondering if Iife been a little too hard on myself in the past. i never got the chance to enjoy my life." "then let's go grab cater-senpai and go shopping!"

he will not let you experience such loneliness again! not when he is one of your first friend here in wonderland.

-‘๑’- deuce spade

opposite to ace, he is mademoiselle crabaletta's favorite for some reason or even the whole salon members are fond of him !

while he is more on the less troublesome side - he still make some troubles but you can see how much he was trying to not get you involve in it 😭

"deuce, you could've just told me earlier about this..." "i'm sorry, i don't want you to get involve again." "you are really a jester. we are friends! how can i not help you when you are facing problems?"

just as you listen to his problems, you were surprised that deuce is a great listener 😮 its not sarcasm !!

it first came to you during the octavinelle incident when deuce found you crying behind the ramshackle down, hugging your knees and being surrounded by your salon members, trying to calm you down

"i still couldn't do it... i do not belong in this world now i don't even have a place to stay..." "(name)..." "d-don't look at me like this! just give me a second." "no it's okay, let it out. i am so sorry for putting the pressure on you."

the sweetest guy??? ever??? he will try to include you in discussions about this world itself and wouldn't let you feel out of place

you even found him taking down notes whenever you get the chance to talk about your nation and people

"you have a dragon as a friend?!" "yea, don't let the dragon title fool you though. he is very kind but all he eats and drink is water every break time."

while ace had your back, deuce got your sides covered + knows fully how capable of being the front liner

"how dare you!?" "ah, (nickname) don't go to far!" "... remind me to never mess with her again."

remember the phantom back in the mines? you encountered one again and after it made one of your salon members disappear - the trio watch you literally annihilate the monster

seeing you all impatient and having a childlike temper made him laugh because you weren't so different from them after all

but please do not rush in battle so suddenly, you might as well give him a heart attack 😵

don't tell the others but deuce really looks up to you as an admirable person + not only you were able to endure everything for a long time, you still have the heart to forgive everyone who doubted you.

"do you know that you are really a respectable friend?" "...? oh my god, did you eat mushrooms for breakfast again?" "i'm serious!" "oh is that so? well i am proud of you. don't you know you improved a lot too?"

it's 7 am in the morning are you trying to make him cry? 🥹

having you with him during his high school life is an unexpected but wonderful experience - learning other things together + being interested in the same things? he had never felt such comfort before

deuce just hope that even though he and ace are seen as troublemakers, you won't hesitate to let your walls come down when times get rough 🫂

[reginleif-valkyrie]

Watching the Journey to the West 2010 adaptation and Wukong begs Sanzang to free him and that’ll he’ll protect him ect etc. There is some doubt that Wukong is lying, but Sanzang chooses to believe him.

I’m sitting there thinking ‘is that something the shows like to add or is that actually in the book?’

So I got get my copy of the first book and look it up. The answer is mostly yes. Wukong does his whole speech and Sanzang is delight to meet him. The hunter/woodsman asks if Wukong is lying and Wukong denies it. Sanzang frees Wukong.

Not once does Sanzang think Wukong is lying. He instantly believes him despite the fact he is trapped under a mountain for messing with the Buddha.

This is the first example of Sanzang’s blind faith that people are good, even demons, that they’re not going to lie to him to get what they want.

It is his blind faith that sets Wukong free and it is that same blind faith the puts him at odds with Wukong over and over again .

Wukong is agitated by that blind faith, the same blind faith that saved him in the first place.

Sanzang could have said ‘no, you’re a demon. You must be lying,’ and leave most definitely ending with his death somewhere.

But no, he believes Wukong and Wukong is truthful.

Think about it. This crazy monkey demon that turns out to be OP as hell that was trapped under a mountain for 500 years by the Buddha himself is telling you the truth. Blind faith scored you this kickass monkey. It’s just reinforces your blind faith is right.

Now I can hear you saying ‘he never believes Wukong again’ and you are absolutely right.

Here’s the thing, people don’t react well when someone tells them something they believe in is ‘wrong’.

Wukong repeatedly says that ‘this person is lying. Let’s not help them.’ (There’s usually more explanation than that.) Sanzang in turn thinks Wukong is lying because he’s contracting his belief, a belief that set Wukong free and though Wukong is ‘bad’ he is keeping his word by protecting Sanzang long the journey still reinforcing the Sanzang is right.

There are people who believe so strongly in their belief that not matter how much evidence you put in front of them won’t change their minds.

Sanzang was right once. Wukong was telling the truth when he said ‘free me and I’ll protect you.’ It wasn’t in a way Sanzang approved of, but he wasn’t lying.

Wukong is a walking example that Sanzang’s blind faith was right and can be right again. (I don’t think it was, however that’s not the point)

I think I lost where I was going with this.

I will reiterate that Wukong struggles with Sanzang’s blind faith but it’s that blind faith that saved him in the first place which is ironic as hell. That’s probably the whole point.

I would also like to say that I am not justifying or defending anyone’s actions. Everyone needs to go to therapy.