#i saw a comment on the scan and its so true

[jinjofitzo]

Jusr read the new tbhk chapter!!!!!!! moodboard

[gothgoblinbabe]

Love Game

[Logan Howlett x fem!reader]

Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, female reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, you’re shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism? Technically?, use of pet names, I believe that’s it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in

Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute you’re gonna pretend like it wouldn’t

Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he might’ve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.

Word Count: 8K

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“That fucking kid.”

You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment you’d realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it.  He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a ‘two for one’ deal when he got to bother you at the same time. 

Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.

“Summers! I’m going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?”

Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.

“Scott!”

You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder. 

Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what he’d done. He’d dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. That’s why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut. 

You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things you’d written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Logan’s included.

“Fucker,” you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scott’s hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head. 

“Ah, not so fast,” he teased.

You’d gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because he’d overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.

Your eyes flickered between his face and Logan’s. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen. 

“Now what is this,” Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, “a whole paragraph for little ol’ me?”

Shit. 

“I’ll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.”

If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?

You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it. 

You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.

“Huh,” Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, “No one knows how to piss me off like Logan.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“True,” he commented, “and he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.”

“Also true,” Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze. 

“He’d save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,” he read, looking up to speak to you, “first of all, I told you they’re not cat ears.”

You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.

“Second of all, you couldn’t master ‘em anyway - I’d have to fix it myself.”

You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything he’d read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet. 

“God, how I wanna…play with his hair,” he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Ah, there it is.

“That’s, uh - it’s really old, I didn’t mean, like - it’s from years ago,” you tried to blabber out an excuse.

“It’s dated - it’s from a couple months ago.”

You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.

“He’s so stubborn,” Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, “I wish someone would just put him in his place.”

“Ooh,” Scott chuckled, looking to you, “are you gonna be the one to do it?”

“Fuck you, Summers - I’m so gonna get you back for this,” you snarled.

“I don’t think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shut” Logan started to read again.

You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book. 

“No, no, no, Logan, please - you don’t wanna read th-“

“I’d love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -”

He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was he’d read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.

I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.

Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, that’s the one he had to open up to?

You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.

“What does it say?” Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.

Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?

“Don’t worry about it. We shouldn’t be readin’ her private stuff anyway.”

“Uh…,” you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, “thanks.”

You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what he’d read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t.

You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someone’s face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down. 

You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that he’d bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I thought about fucking you?’

You’d have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand. 

“Alright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.”

Scott’s voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Logan’s and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldn’t.

“Ready? And…go!”

He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.

“Okay, ow,” you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.

He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.

“Don’t get too excited, now,” he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him. 

You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air. 

“What, you thought I’d let you win?” You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?

“Nah, I just really like havin’ you on top.”

Nope, definitely different. 

You didn’t even hear Scott call time on your match at first. 

“Hey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,” he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan. 

“Aw, really? It was just gettin’ good,” he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldn’t catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you weren’t that lucky.

“Hey, hey - princess, wait up,” you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.

“About the other day, the thing you wrote - “

You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.

“Listen, Logan,” you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, “I know what you read, I don’t wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and it’s over, okay?”

He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.

“Aw, what happened - you changed your mind?”

You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it. 

“Shut up,” you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.

“Aw, pretty girl -“

You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Logan’s t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face. 

“First of all, I told you not to call me that - ‘princess’, ’pretty girl’ - like I’m one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?” you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.

His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.

“And second of all,” you continued with a deep breath, “you read it, it’s done - leave it be, would you? It doesn’t mean anything.”

You still had his shirt in your tight grip.

“Alright, alright - I’m just teasing,” he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, “and I’m sorry, I never should’ve been reading it in the first place.” 

You sighed and finally let him go.

“Fine, I forgive you. And you can’t ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“So, we’re cool again? Nothings weird?”

“Not unless you make it weird.”

“You were the one flirting with me.”

“Uh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.”

“I’ll get you back.”

“Sure, you will.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charles’ office.

“Do we really have to go?” Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.

You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charles’ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.

“It would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,” Charles answered.

“You really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?” Scott gestured towards you both.

Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.

“We’ll be fine,” you insisted while glaring daggers in Scott’s direction.

You didn’t notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Logan’s jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.

“There's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,” he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.

“You don’t wanna play dress up?” You teased.

“And look like a stuck up prick? No.”

“I'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,” you admitted, “I’ve got a couple nice dresses I’ve never even worn. Besides, maybe there’s gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.”

You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes. 

“What, you’re gonna go home with some rich schmuck just ‘cause he’s got money?”

He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, if he’s good looking, maybe.”

That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone you’d never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what he’d read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldn’t be a problem for you.

“Oh,” Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, “I see - you’re going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?”

She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.

“Call it what you want,” you responded, “but I’m gonna have fun, at the very least.”

You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.

You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororo’s room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door. 

“Does it fit?” She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.

You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.

“In a way? Kind of.”

Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scott’s room.

“She’s trying on a dress that’s been in her closet since last year that still had tags,” Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can one of you zip me up, though?” you sighed in defeat and opened the door, “I can’t get it.”

“Woah, mama!” Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.

“I don’t look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,” you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.

“Definitely not silly,” Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, “Logan’s gonna lose it.”

You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Who cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? ‘Cause I don’t. Like, at all.”

“Honey,” Ororo began, “we already know you like him, remember?”

You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.

“I don’t - not anymore, at least.”

“Yeah, right,” Jean giggled, “keep telling yourself that.”

Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, “We’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.”

You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag you’d carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs. 

“All right, ready!” Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadn’t said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes would’ve announced your presence for you.

Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer. 

He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didn’t do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what you’d scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.

‘Just an old crush,’ you internally tried to remind yourself, ‘just an old crush - that’s it. I’m not into him anymore.’

Except that you knew damn well it was a lie. 

“We’re gonna be late if we stand here any longer, c’mon,” Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.

“You look nice,” Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, “think you’ll bag any of those rich guys?”

You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “but if I do, you’ll be the last to find out.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Got that right.”

You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.

“Kid, you’re gonna choke if you keep eatin’ that fast,” he warned you.

“ ‘m a stress eater,” you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, “besides, you’re a stress drinker. Thank god there’s so many tiny foods.”

He scoffed and took a sip of his drink. 

“What are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and you’ve already got that down.”

“Thank you, I think?” your eyes nervously scanned the room, “I just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big that’s full of complete strangers.”

“Why do you think I’m holdin’ a glass right now?” 

Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.

“Well, that’s one way to calm your nerves,” he commented, “but if you keep drinkin’ like that, you’re gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.”

You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, “I just needed the kick in the ass - I’m good.”

“So, you’re gonna go socialize? Good luck,” he raised his eyebrows, “something tells me these people aren’t really who we want to be hanging out with.”

“Why, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we don’t? You can’t hate people just because they have money, Logan.”

“Then how am I doin’ it right now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I think there’s gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.”

“Uh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesn’t make me right.”

“You know what? I’m going to prove you wrong,” you said smugly, standing up from the table. 

“I think you’ll prove me right.”

“You wanna bet?”

“It’s a deal.”

“What are we betting, exactly?”

“How ‘bout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we don’t, I win.”

“Fine,” you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, “what does the winner get?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “we can figure it out later.”

With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasn’t going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.

“Oh, so they come up to you,” you thought immediately.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,” he said politely, a charming smile on his face, “I saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure if you came with someone.”

You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you. 

“Oh, thanks,” you finally replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.

“I didn’t come here with anyone, by the way,” you added, “Well, I mean, I did but not in that way - I’m with friends.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, grinning, “in that case, would you wanna dance with me?”

You hadn’t even asked each other your names, and you didn’t really care. 

You nodded and let him take your hand, “I have to warn you, though - I’m no dancer.”

“Well, do I look like one? ‘Cause I’m certainly not, either. But when there’s a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, you’ve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.”

“I don’t know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.”

He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t make me blush.”

He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.

So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.

Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.

You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didn’t? You might let him take you home anyway.

You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately. 

He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.

You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company you’d heard of, a big name in the industry.

“Oh, so, what do you do there?” 

“Well, I own it.”

You squinted and sat up straight.

“You own the company.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him.  She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasn’t even looking at her while she hung all over him.

“Hey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know it’s a little slow paced, but I love this song.”

You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.

“You know what? Sure, why not.”

You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than you’d been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you wondered why it didn’t feel like something you wanted at all.

You caught Ororo’s gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Logan’s gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didn’t want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you weren’t sure of why he wouldn’t tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face. 

You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goin’ right for the lips might have been too much.”

“We don’t even know each other's names.”

“Do we have to?”

You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasn’t fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didn’t even have a reason to be jealous.

“You can kiss me.”

He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.

Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.

“Alright, bub,” he grunted, “I think that's enough, she’s leavin’.”

You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.

“I can leave when I want to,” you said through gritted teeth, “what the hell is your problem?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” your date asked, nervously looking between you both.

“He’s n-” you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.

“Yeah. Get lost.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You weren’t totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Outside. Now,” you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.

You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldn’t trip as you stomped out.

‘What the fuck was that?”

He didn’t answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.

“What, you didn’t want me to win the bet?” you guessed with raised eyebrows.

“You’re really gonna let some guy you don’t know shove his tongue in your mouth?”

You stood in stunned silence for a moment.

“Are you kidding? How is that any of your business?”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let some asshole be all over you just ‘cause he's got money.”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “why do you care?”

“Why don’t you? Seriously, you’d just go home with some guy and fuck him?”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” you stuttered, “maybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that it’s any of your concern!”

You were nearly shouting at each other.

He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, “none of my concern, sure. I didn’t think you’d actually try and go home with someone -”

“Okay, you know what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is or why you’re acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!”

You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Logan’s face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the building’s windows.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.

You raised your eyebrows, “get what?”

You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.

Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.

“That stupid fuckin’ notebook, the little one you write in,” he groaned, “I just wish I never read it.”

“So, you’re mad about that?” You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, “listen, I’m sorry, it wasn’t -“

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted, “it’s - fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.”

You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.

“It’s all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I don’t even know what to do, It’s so stupid,” he huffed.

You still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.

“And then - I don’t know, alright - you look so…” he groaned with his face in his hands, “I like you - is that enough? Ya’ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekin’ through shit that wasn’t his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. I’m supposed to read that you wanna ‘fuck me senseless’ and just let it go? You thought that wasn’t gonna do something to me?”

You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.

He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.

“So…you -“ 

His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.

“So, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.”

Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head. 

“Would you, if I asked?” He continued in a low voice.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.

His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasn’t tenderly holding your face, you might’ve just let yourself fall to the ground.

“I’ve been thinking about you for months, you know,” he admitted when he pulled away, “watchin’ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell ya’ - I didn’t have the nerve. Seein’ you with another guy, though - I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.”

You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.

“You mean it? All of it?”

You didn’t know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.

“ ‘course I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.”

His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.

“Hey, wait,” you pulled away momentarily, “why did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to find someone good enough, I don’t know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.”

“That was your plan?” you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.

“Well, It might’ve worked if you hadn’t met what’s-his-face in there.”

“I don’t know his name,” you shrugged, “didn’t care to ask.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,” you admitted, “I still like you.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

His expression was as smug as could be.

“That you still like me? Yeah.”

“How? Am I that obvious?”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, “I could smell how wet you’ve been all night.”

You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.

“And it worked, by the way - I’m jealous.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Well,” you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, “are you gonna do something about it, then?” 

He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.

“I won the bet.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please tell me you don’t mean you’re actually still gonna go home with that guy.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, “I meant you, Logan.”

“Me,” he repeated with a beaming smile, “you’re coming home with me.”

You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead. 

He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like he’d never see it again if he turned away.

“What if I couldn’t wait till we got home?” He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.

Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.

“C’mere,” you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadn’t been used in a few months at the very least.

Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.

“Logan,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.

“I love when you say my name,” he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you. 

You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.

“I’ve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,” you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, “what do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?”

He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.

“Good,” you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Logan’s suit jacket, “off.”

He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.

“Did I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I don’t think I did,” you spoke softly in a firm tone.

“No - no, ma’am.”

It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second. 

“So do as you're told, baby,” you instructed, “if you’re good for me, maybe I’ll reward you back.”

You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail. 

“F- mhm, fuck,” he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.

“Are you gonna say yes?” your voice was near taunting, “or do I have to try a little more convincing?”

You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Yeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,” he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew he’d never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly. 

“Do me a favor, baby,” you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, “take out your pretty cock for me.”

He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly he’d feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy who’s six foot two, it wasn’t a surprise.

He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.

“Touch yourself first and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

The ‘maybe’ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that you’d let him touch you regardless.

“Gimme your hand,” you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.

He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.

“Feels good?” You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.

“Mm - mhm, yeah, ‘s good,” he panted, “really fucking good.”

You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.

You couldn’t help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.

“Think of you all the time when I do this at home,” he panted, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself. 

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, “you look amazing.”

You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or you’re gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,” you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.

“Don’t - ah - don’t call me that,” he whimpered.

“Aw, you don’t like it, my pretty kitty?”

He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didn’t hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” you continued to tease, “I know you like it - you love bein’ my big, pretty kitty.”

He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours. 

“Sh-shut up,” he managed to grunt.

You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.

He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.

“I said you had to be good for me, didn’t I?” you asked.

He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again. 

“Good boys don’t talk back,” you said simply, raising your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I’ll - I’m good, I’ll behave, just please -“

His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.

“Fucking Christ,” he moaned.

You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldn’t give out from under him. 

“If you can be real quiet,” you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, “I’ll let you cum in me. You want that?”

“Please, ‘v been thinking of that for fucking weeks,” he begged, “please, please, baby.”

He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldn’t resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.

You couldn’t help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.

He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.

“You’re so - fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.

“What’d I say about back talk?” you moved the head of his cock further away from you.

He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, “Honey, I’m already beggin’ -  please, I need you.”

The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.

“I guess you’ve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?” 

He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.

“I told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear.

“Uh-huh, ‘s a lil’ hard when I’m fuckin’ a girl I’ve been dreamin’  about for months,” he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.

“You feel so good, Logan,” you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.

He groaned at full volume again.

“Are you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?” you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.

“Open.”

He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.

“Good kitty.”

He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.

“Yeah,” you panted, “I know you like that.”

The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.

“You’re - you’re so pretty,” you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the drool that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on. 

“Easy, kitty cat - you’re gonna break somethin’,” you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.

His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, I-“ you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.

“Logan, Logan, I’m - ah - ‘m gonna come,” you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.

He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room. 

“C’mon,” he growled into your mouth, “c’mon, baby, please.”

Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way you’d smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.

“Oh my god, Logan,” you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, “s-so good. I love you.”

The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.

His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.

“Love you so much.”

He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you could’ve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.

“I don’t - I don’t ever wanna see ya’ with anybody else,” he panted, “I needed ya’ so bad. You - ah - ya’ drive me crazy.”

Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’ll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. ‘s always been you. Only ever really wanted you,” you admitted with a soft voice.

His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.

“I’m yours, always have been,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about fucking me like this.”

He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.

“Love you so fucking much,” he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.

“I love you, too,” you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I made such a mess of ya’,” he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, “I’ll clean ya’ up when we’re home, I swear.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.

You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.

“Shit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,” you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.

He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.

“Okay, okay, c’mon,” you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.

“What happened to you guys?” Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.

You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, “Oh, uh…”

You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help. 

“Nothin’,” he said in a nonchalant manner, “just got lost around the place - lot’s of rooms in there.”

Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 

“Sure, and, uh - Is that why you’re holding hands?”

You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.

“Well,” you started, “remember I said I’d try to bag a guy tonight? Um-”

“I’ve been bagged,” Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that,” you insisted, “but - yeah.”

“Finally,” Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d have to have an intervention.”

“Huh?” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon,” Ororo laughed, “we all knew you liked each other, even before you did.” 

“And you never said anything?” Logan asked.

“Neither of you ever believed us!”

“True,” you agreed with a shrug and giggle. 

“I believe you now,” he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, “She might like me. Just a little bit.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it

Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3

[ginxyy]

Bloody Valentine

I know I've got to go but I might just miss the flight i can't stay forever, let's play pretend And treat this night like it'll happen again You'll be my bloody valentine tonight

The air was thick with the scent of summer; it lingered on your skin like a favorite perfume, sweet and intoxicating. Your recent tour had taken you far and wide, but with each stop, your heart had been tugged in an unexpected direction, one that led straight to him—Wonwoo. It wasn’t official, not yet, but what had begun as casual meetings in quaint cafes and whispered secrets under starlit skies had bloomed into something more profound and exhilarating.

You had fallen head over heels for him, that quiet boy who wore his heart on the sleeve of his vintage band T-shirts. His dark, thoughtful eyes often danced with mischief as he laughed, and those rare moments where he let his guard down made your own heart flutter like the pages of a well-loved novel. Those evenings spent curled up in dimly lit rooms, sharing dreams and tastes in music, ignited a flame within you that felt both frightening and freeing.

As the golden hues of summer began to fade into the crispness of autumn, you found yourself grappling with the reality of your departure. Soon, life would pull you back into its chaotic rhythm, and you’d be miles away from the boy who had managed to break down the walls you had built around your heart. Each day drew closer to the moment you would board that plane, yet thoughts of him lingered like unpicked petals scattered on a sidewalk.

In a fit of inspiration and an ache in your heart, you decided to channel your feelings into something tangible. You reached for your electric guitar, the one that had been your companion through countless late-night jam sessions. As you strummed a few chords, the haunting melody of “Bloody Valentine” by MGK wrapped around you like a haunting embrace. It was a perfect way to encapsulate the bittersweet nature of your emotions.

After recording the video, you uploaded it to Instagram with a single, simple caption: "Even if the time we shared was limited, my love was true." There was something bold about putting your feelings out into the world, a testament to everything you’d experienced together, even if it felt impossibly fleeting. The last notes of the song resonated in your ears as you hit ‘post,’ a mix of anxiety and hope flooding through your veins.

As the hours passed, you tried to shake off the whispers of worry that fluttered at the back of your mind. What if he didn’t see it? What if he brushed it off like so many others had done? But in that quiet space of your heart, you knew—he would understand. He had to.

Moments later, your phone buzzed in a flurry. A comment from Wonwoo. Your heart raced as you opened the notification. “I saw your post. I’ll meet you at the airport.” Just five words, but wrapped in them was everything you wanted to hear and yet feared. Would this be it? The final goodbye wrapped in the hope of ‘I will see you again’?

Your heart thudded in your chest as you packed the last of your things, anxiety mingling with excitement. The airport loomed ahead, sprawling and bustling with life, yet all you could focus on was him. The thought that it might be the last time you saw him sent ripples of sadness curling in your stomach under the surface of uncertainty.

As you stepped through the automatic doors, the world outside blurred into a backdrop. You scanned the crowded terminal, heart racing as you fought against the tide of travelers. There he was, standing by the barrier, looking as striking as the first day you laid eyes on him. His hair slightly tousled in the summer breeze, he looked like art made tangible, and just like that, a sense of calm washed over you amidst the storm of emotions swirling in your heart.

“Wonwoo,” you breathed, and the space between you vanished as he wrapped his arms around you in a rush of warmth. Your body instinctively molded against his, heart hammering against your ribs. It felt as though all the music swirling in the air paused for just a moment, as if time had graced you with a second chance.

“I saw your video,” he murmured, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes were intense, darkened by the weight of things left unsaid. “I rushed over when I did. I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye properly.”

The words sent a shiver through you. There was urgency in his tone, an undertone of desperation that mirrored your own. “I didn’t want to make it harder,” you replied, your voice softer than a whisper, “but there’s so much I wish I could say.”

“Then say it,” he urged, taking a step closer. “We don’t need to part like this, love. I want you to know that you’ve made this summer unforgettable for me. Even if it feels short, I’ll always carry this with me.”

The sincerity in his words hung between you like the music of your favorite song, reverberating through your very core. You both knew time wasn’t on your side, yet the connection you had forged felt significant an echo that would carry you through the distance.

“I fell in love with you,” you admitted, feeling the weight of truth lifted from your heart. “I wish I could stay, just one more night one more chance to create memories wrapped in the rhythm of our laughter.”

“Then let’s make a promise,” he said, his voice low and filled with emotion. “This isn’t goodbye forever. We will find a way. You’ll see I’ll never forget you. Not now, not ever.”

“And I’ll always carry you with me,” you promised, the reality of your fleeting time intertwining with a glimmer of hope. As you held him tightly, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat against your own, a part of you knew that, even amidst the distance, you would find a way to let your love shine through the darkness.

“Take care of yourself, won’t you?” he murmured, as if afraid that the moment would slip away like sand through clasped fingers.

With a bittersweet smile, you nodded. “And you, too. Until we meet again, Wonwoo.”

As you stepped back, the world buzzed back into existence, but in that fleeting encapsulation of love and longing, you both remained suspended for just a moment longer, hearts echoing the promise you both silently made. Love, after all, was a melody that transcended distance. And you were both determined to let it play on, no matter how long the wait.

[imsandra]

The Great War

Pairing: Lucien x Female Reader

Summary: If they survive the great war, will they dare to love each other?

Warning: Angst, tension, death, but nothing graphic. I think that's all, let me know if something is missing.

Word count: 3625

Notes: I hope you enjoy this story about our favorite redhead. As always, feel free to leave your comments, suggestions, everything is welcome as long as it is respectful and with the aim to teach.

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.

This is an original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.

I appreciate any comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.

Happy reading!

Master list

“Elain, where is Lucien?” Y/N asked, gasping.

Things had gone wrong; the war was unfolding too close to both women, and their friend had disappeared.

“I don’t know,” she replied, in shock.

Elain had killed the king of Hybern; she still held the Truth-Telling in her delicate, blood-covered hands. She had been very brave to plunge the dagger into his heart. So she thought her favorite redhead would be with her.

The Illyrian scanned the battlefield, straining her vision as much as she could, trying to distinguish among all the heads that made up the war legion led by Cassian.

But that red spark was not among them.

A sense of panic began to engulf her body; her fingers started to go numb, and her breathing quickened.

She heard footsteps approaching, crunching the fallen leaves that covered the forest; she turned too quickly when the noise reached her ears, but disappointment crossed her eyes.

It wasn’t Lucien; it was Nesta.

“Have you seen Lucien?” she asked again, hopefully.

Nesta arrived beside Elain, checking on how her sister was doing.

“No,” she replied coldly. “The last time I saw him, he arrived with the ships. He’s probably among the dead,” she added. She only cared about the well-being of sweet, delicate Elain—only her and her own.

Hearing that, with the breath she had left, she dashed into the center of the battle, praying to the gods that the harsh words of the older Archeron wouldn’t come true.

With her sword in hand and senses alert, she ran and ran, shouting the redhead’s name.

“Lucien! Lucien!” she cried desperately over and over; a knot was beginning to form in her throat.

She killed the enemies who crossed her path, stabbing and pulling the sword out of each body and its clothes, getting more and more covered in blood.

One blow, then two, the steel ringing in her ears. And there was no sign of the fox.

Fatigue was beginning to take over her body, her heart racing. A few meters away, she saw the body of the general, exhausted like everyone around him.

“Cas… Cassian!” she shouted with a hoarse voice.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” he said, surprised to see the healer in such a dangerous place. “Are you crazy?” he yelled, frightened upon seeing her tunic stained with red liquid and the sword in the same state. “You could’ve been killed. You need to go back with the others. This place isn’t safe, and where did you find that?”

“Have you seen Lucien?” she whispered, exhausted, ignoring everything her brother had said.

“Did you hear what I said? You’re going to get a sword through your heart; go back to the healers’ camp right now,” the warrior ordered.

Just then, a man appeared behind the Illyrian, trying to kill him. And as if she were the wind itself, she moved as quickly as the desperation coursing through her veins. With the agility of a hawk, she cut off his head, and the general could only watch in shock.

While her sister had been training for years, he never thought she would possess such skill, let alone put it to the test.

Until now.

“Damn!” he whispered softly to himself. “Who taught you that?” he asked, curious and a touch proud.

“Tell me if you’ve seen Lucien Vanserra,” she insisted to her brother.

“The last time I saw him, he was near the other side of the forest, with Vassa,” he informed her, sweat and dirt covering his face. “And have you seen Azriel?” he questioned.

“I thought he was with you,” she replied.

Now two males were missing.

“Great, we’ll have to search for them among all the bodies,” he said, exhaling and praying not to find them among the lifeless limbs.

Both headed toward the place where they last saw Lucien, hoping to find the Shadow Singer with him.

The line between saving and killing began to blur as the battle continued.

The two moved quickly through the chaos, the sound of clashing swords and screams filling the air. Her heart raced, her eyes frantically scanning the battlefield for any trace of the fox or the Shadow Singer.

In the distance, they saw a red flash among the tangle of warriors, and Y/N immediately recognized Lucien's unmistakable hair.

He stood fighting with a ferocity she had never seen in him before. His movements were precise, lethal, and his skill with the sword was evident as he took down one enemy after another.

The healer felt a mix of relief and awe. She had run through the battlefield, convinced that the redhead was injured or worse. But seeing him in action, fighting with such skill, ignited a new spark of hope within her.

However, not everything was in his favor. Despite his prowess, he was surrounded, outnumbered by several enemy soldiers.

Y/N and Cassian exchanged a quick glance, knowing they had to intervene.

“Cassian, to the left!” she shouted as she charged toward the enemy's right flank, her sword gleaming in the air.

The warrior nodded and moved with the speed of a predator to the other side, attacking the soldiers surrounding Lucien. She arrived just in time to block a strike that would have injured her friend.

Lucien cast her a quick look of acknowledgment, a spark of gratitude in his eyes, but there was no time for words. Together, the three of them fought, forming a small but impenetrable barrier against the enemies.

After a series of deadly blows, the enemies began to retreat, leaving them standing, breathing heavily amid the chaos. The fox lowered his sword, his face covered in sweat and dirt but unscathed.

“Y/N…” he began, his voice hoarse from exertion.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and anger.

“I was about to lose my mind looking for you!” she exclaimed, though the relief in her voice was undeniable.

Lucien felt the tension in his battle-worn muscles ease at her words.

He took a step closer, closing the space between them, and wrapped her in a firm, swift embrace filled with intensity. It wasn’t the gesture of a friend or someone merely grateful. It was something deeper, something that had been silent for too long.

When they pulled apart, his hands lingered on her waist for a second longer, as if he didn’t want to let her go so quickly.

Cassian also chimed in, a crooked smile on his face.

“Well, now that the fox is safe, has anyone seen Azriel?”

The general had already begun scanning the area, as if expecting to spot his winged brother in some corner of the battlefield.

“He can’t be far,” he murmured, a mix of hope and urgency in his voice.

Lucien was alert too, his gaze focused on the chaos around them.

“The last time I saw him, he was facing a group of soldiers near the river,” he added, wiping the blood from his sword into the fabric of his pants.

They barely had time to recover before the weight of worry for Azriel hit them again.

Without a second thought, Y/N began to move in that direction, her heart pounding in her ears. The ground was littered with bodies, both allies and enemies alike, making every step more difficult.

The sounds of combat still echoed; as they approached the area Lucien had mentioned, they found remnants of a fierce battle. The marks on the ground and the fallen bodies made it clear that a strong fight had taken place there.

Then, Y/N spotted one of the daggers from the Master of Spies, embedded in a soldier’s chest.

“This is Az’s,” she announced softly, picking up the bloodied weapon.

The two males quickly moved closer. The trail of blood continued, leading toward the thick underbrush near the river. They began to follow it, their hearts filled with fear for what they might find.

Among the trees, she distinguished a fallen figure among the branches and leaves.

“Azriel!” she shouted, running toward him.

The Illyrian lay on the ground, his wings spread out with a deep wound in his side. His breathing was irregular, but he was conscious. Around him, several fallen bodies indicated that he had fought to his last breath.

With evident effort, he tried to sit up upon seeing his friend approach.

“No… I’m…” he tried to say, his voice barely a whisper.

The healer fell to her knees beside him, her trembling hands assessing the severity of the wound. Lucien and Cassian arrived a moment later, watching with concern.

“Stay with us,” she murmured, trying to contain the wave of relief she felt at finding him alive.

“Y/N,” Cassian interjected, looking around, alert for more enemies.

She began to work immediately at the urgency in her brother’s voice. Her healing magic started to flow from her hands into Azriel’s body, but it wasn’t easy. The wound was deep, and while the magic could stop the bleeding, the Shadow Singer needed more time to heal completely.

Azriel looked at her with those eyes full of gratitude, though he could barely speak.

“It’s… nothing. Just… another wound,” he said with a weak smile.

Cassian and Lucien had kept watch around them, protecting them while Y/N worked. At that moment, there was only one thing on her mind: keeping Azriel alive.

“He’s stable,” she announced, her hands stained with her friend’s blood. “We need to move; we can’t stay here any longer.”

Lucien stepped closer to Y/N and helped her up. Meanwhile, Cassian moved closer to his brother.

“You did well,” he whispered to her.

She relaxed her shoulders, if only for a moment. Her body was growing weary. They needed to reach the healer camp soon.

He prepared to help the general move the Master of Spies. The four of them headed toward the camp.

Along the way, they dispatched more soldiers, the three of them taking turns to protect Azriel. The war lord had his brother’s arm around his neck, while his sister and the male who would soon become his brother-in-law— or so he hoped—fought against every enemy. The two moved in perfect sync, a well-executed dance.

They were only a few meters away; soon they stopped when the sound of clashing steel and the cries of the wounded began to fade.

The echo of war drums, which had resonated loudly across the battlefield, slowly quieted into a distant murmur.

In the distance, the remaining enemy forces retreated. Victory was theirs, but there was no celebration on the faces of the survivors, only exhaustion and pain. The silence that followed was deafening.

After so many hours of chaos, the calm felt surreal.

Cassian, still breathing heavily, raised his sword in a sign of triumph, though his eyes filled with sadness at the sight of his army's losses. The remaining Illyrian warriors raised their fists in the air.

The end had come, but at a cost that would resonate within them for a long time.

Y/N looked around, searching for her friends. In the distance, she saw Feyre embracing Rhysand; her gaze located Mor not far away, Amren, and the rest of the High Lords.

“It’s over,” she murmured, almost in disbelief. The words felt strange on her lips, as if the idea of peace were foreign after so long of fighting.

“Yes, we did it,” Cassian said, his voice deep but tinged with relief. However, there was no smile on his face, only a glance toward the fallen, those who would not see the end of the war.

The air smelled of ash and blood. The rays of the sun began to break over the horizon, bathing the battlefield in a golden light, as if the world wanted to forget the darkness it had just witnessed.

With one last look at the field, the general gestured to the few remaining warriors, ordering them to return to camp.

The group began to walk back as well, helping Azriel to stay upright.

The three entered the tent that the Master of Spies occupied; Cassian carefully placed Azriel on the makeshift bed.

The healer searched for some water to bring down his fever. The effort her friend had put forth during the journey was taking its toll on his body. She placed a cloth on his forehead and let him rest.

“I’ll go attend to the other wounded,” she told the general, leaving some tea on the table. “When he wakes up, make sure he drinks it. I’ll be nearby.”

“Your father would be proud of you,” he suddenly said, his gaze fixed on his brother’s body.

Her heart began to race. It had been a long time since anyone had mentioned her father. Her father, who had given his life for her; she couldn’t remember anything about him. He had left centuries ago.

Lucien felt the tension in the air, so he quietly slipped out of the tent.

“And Mom would be proud of you,” he replied; her eyes met her brother’s.

Cassian approached her and wrapped his arms around her. His heart raced with fear at having seen Y/N with a sword in hand and blood staining her clothes. He hugged her tighter, and she returned his affection.

“Next time, let me know you’ll be with us. I almost went to the Mother when I saw you running to your lover. Very romantic,” he whispered in her ear, his voice breaking, and kissed her forehead.

No matter what, she was his little sister. The one he had watched grow up and had tucked in a few times; he would always protect her.

Her cheeks flushed; she was sure he would never stop teasing her about it.

“Enough! I have to go; take care of Az.” A smile spread across her face.

The general only chuckled, a low laugh. A sign that things would get better soon.

Lucien had settled under a tree near the camp where Y/N was working. He watched her move skillfully among the bodies, just as she had on the battlefield. He hadn’t seen her wield a weapon in years.

And when he saw her saving a life, his mind flooded with the first time he met her; she had pointed a dagger at his throat, and today, she had thrust a sword into someone else's throat.

For him.

The fact that she, so strong and brave, had traversed the chaos of the battlefield with him in mind left him momentarily bewildered. A mix of warmth and vulnerability settled in his chest.

It was different from what he had felt with Elain. With her, there was an inevitable, mystical connection dictated by the bond. But this, what he shared with Y/N, felt real. Human.

It wasn't based on ancient magic or a predestined tie, but on something more tangible, more painfully beautiful. For a moment, he wondered if he deserved that concern, but seeing her face, he knew it didn’t matter.

She had done it. And that changed everything.

The female smiled at him from afar. He could see her eyes shining with adoration when he returned the gesture.

His heart raced with the intensity of an electric jolt; he felt his cheeks heat up, and his soul flooded with warmth as she approached. For the first time in his life, he felt very nervous. The palms of his hands began to sweat, and his breath quickened; that was the effect she had on him.

“How are you?” she asked; he didn’t know what to say. Lucien’s mind was occupied memorizing her face—her eyes, her lips, the shape of her nose, every detail he could absorb from her.

“I’m fine,” she said, laughing at seeing her redhead distracted.

No one could lie to Lucien Vanserra; he could see through her that she was tired, exhausted. Even though she smiled, he knew her perfectly.

The redhead stepped closer and embraced her. Y/N leaned against his toned body and sighed. They both needed that, to be in each other’s arms.

He held her while stroking her back slowly and soothingly. He inhaled her scent. Despite the blood, mud, and sweat, Lucien felt at home.

He had grown accustomed to being the outcast, and he had finally found his home.

She was his home.

She always had been, and it was time to accept it.

With a gentle motion, he pulled her away from his body; he held her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks.

She focused her gaze on Lucien's eyes, a beautiful golden color and another mechanical reddish hue, so lovely. In her eyes, he had always been beautiful; she could spend hours admiring his beauty. Perhaps a whole lifetime if they were allowed.

But maybe that would never happen. The mere thought made her chest ache.

Lucien kissed her forehead, and instinctively she closed her eyes. The redhead moved and leaned against the tree, making space between his legs and gesturing for her to sit. Y/N's back met Lucien's warm chest, and a sigh escaped her lips.

Their breaths intertwined as he pulled her closer with his strong arms.

“One of the wounded didn’t make it,” she whispered, his voice breaking, “and his wife will be waiting for him to come home…”

The dam broke, and the weight of guilt settled in the air. Tears flowed freely, and Lucien wiped each one away, holding her close and sharing her pain; his Y/N had been so brave. And he could never blame her for that.

“You did the best you could,” he murmured, kissing the crown of her head. “My beautiful and brave Y/N.”

She turned; her gaze roamed his face, and she could see his eyes shining with deep affection. Y/N leaned in, their foreheads touching, debating whether to cross the line.

Lucien placed his hand on the woman’s neck, tangling his fingers in her silky hair. Closer and closer, their lips brushed together, and he couldn’t resist any longer. He gently drew her in, giving her the chance to pull away; but she closed the space, and their lips met in a kiss filled with all the affection they held.

They separated, breathing heavily.

Lucien kissed her nose, and she embraced him, burying her head in his neck.

“I would run into every necessary war just to be in your arms,” her voice muffled against the redhead’s shirt. “I will always find you.”

The redhead's heart stopped for a second upon hearing those words. He felt the intensity of the moment, the warmth of the healer's body enveloping him like the only thing keeping him standing after the battle.

He slowly released the embrace; but without stepping away, their chests were still pressed together. He gently stroked her hair and tucked a strand behind her ear. He softly traced the base of her neck until his hand rested on her cheek.

He looked at her, and the world made sense again.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said quietly, his gaze deep and warm. “I don’t know how to make grand promises or beautiful speeches, but… Every time I close my eyes, it’s your face I see. Every time I think about what I want… it’s always to be with you.”

He paused for a moment, as if the words were a weight he had finally decided to bear.

“You’re the reason I keep going,” he added, his voice soft yet firm. “And I don’t care if the world changes or if everything collapses around us. My heart will always find its way back to you.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened. She felt the heat of his body, the way his words wrapped around her like a dangerous promise, impossible to ignore. Lucien's eyes, the golden and the metallic, looked at her with an intensity that made her hold her breath.

“But… Elain. She’s your mate,” she interjected.

“She’ll be fine.”

He knew that Elain and Azriel spent too much time together, and she would be okay in the arms of the Master of Spies.

“And you, will you be okay?” she asked curiously, wishing for him to stay with her.

Lucien chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the woman’s chest.

“My soul is right where it wants to be, by your side, darling,” he said. He gently drew her in, and their lips met in a sweet kiss.

In the air vibrated a promise: together, they would face every battle to come. They would make the world burn for each other to be together again.

At the entrance of Azriel's tent, the general saw how two of the most important people in his life were with the ones they belonged to. 

The seer was stroking Azriel's hair, and the fox was smiling at Y/N as if she brought forth the sun each morning.

The sunset gave way to night, and Cassian knew that tomorrow would be a better day.

*divider by @tsunami-of-tears , thank you <33

A/N: A/N: It took me a while to write this one shot, it may not even be perfect and it may have some spelling mistakes, but I didn't want to waste any more time lol. You can always tell me what you think about this. I hope you liked it. I love you guys.

[talaok]

I love your writing!! This was much bigger than the usual requests but I have so many fantasies and I would love to see them come true in your writing, sorry for anything. 💘

ok this just popped into my head, Pedro and the reader have been friends (she is also a virgin, it will make sense later) for some time, both with feelings for the other but not admitted, until one night, where they are both with his friends and mutual friends in a nightclub, Pedro is at the table with some of his friends drinking and having a good time, the reader and her friends went to the dance floor and the dances are getting a little hot, and one of the reader's friends( who are not friends with Pedro) start to make comments doubting that she is a virgin because she is dancing like that and is so sexy and Pedro becomes nervous and uncomfortable with the situation and when the reader returns to the table he asks to talk to her and tries to warn about these "friends" and ends up admitting that he felt jealous of her and decides to declare himself, just like she did after him.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

"and she says she's a virgin" He heard the guy to his right scoff, elboying his friend.

"ha" the other fucking guy laughed like it was funny, like there was anything to laugh at "Sure, and I'm the president of the United States"

His hands curled into fists by his sides, but he refrained because he knew you wouldn't have liked it if he did what he was thinking of doing.

First of all. How the fuck dared they talk about you like that? And furthermore, doing so while calling themselves your friends?

You deserved much better than them. Fuck, you deserved whoever was in first place for best friend in all the world, that's who you deserved.

And second of all, Why the fuck were they looking at you? He could see the way their eyes scanned every inch of your body as you danced to the rhythm... and god, god but the urge to put those fists at his side to use was getting stronger.

But just then, by some miracle, you whispered something to Jenna (a friend of yours) and started making your way back to the table, to him... and those fucking guys next to him.

"hey"

"hey there" the blonde one grinned "had fun?"

"yeah" you smiled, sweet as ever, and a wave of pure anger made its way to Pedro's body.

There you were, smiling that heartstopping smile of yours to those guys, guys who were making fun of you not five minutes before.

You deserved so much better.

You deserved the whole word and more.

"hey" he spoke, before he could stop himself "can we talk for a sec?"

He saw a glimpse of confusion flash before your eyes before you nodded.

"So what did you wanna talk about?" you asked as soon as you stepped out of the bar and into the chilly night.

You tried to lean onto the brick wall behind you, but a shiver of cold ran up your spine.

"Here" he said, not waiting for you to say anything and just placing his jacket over your shoulders.

"O-oh thank you"

"no worries"

You looked at him for a moment before you recalled what you were there for.

"so... you said you wanted to talk"

"right" he nodded, as if he too, had lost himself in you for a moment"I just... it's stupid really, I'm just-"

"I'm sure it's not stupid"you smiled reassuringly, shaking your head.

He couldn't help but let out a little sigh of relief,

you always had a calming effect on him

"it's just that- while you were dancing, your friends...you friends were..."

"what?"

"well they were being mean" he spat out "and I wanted to warn you, because sweetheart you deserve so much more than that, and they-" he paused, looking back at the bar's doors as if he could see the two men sitting right there "they don't deserve you"

"oh" you frowned, slowly taking in his words

"and-and they were making comments and looking at you like that, and I just- god-" he sighed, passing a hand down the length of his face to try and ground himself "I'm sorry y/n, I think I just-I was jealous"

And you had so many things you wanted to say and so many questions to ask, but for whatever reason a single word was all that came out of your mouth.

"jealous?"

his mouth opened but it took him a moment to find the words as he looked into your eyes

"Well I didn't want them to look at you like that-" he realized out loud "I- I wanted to be the only one who could do that"

He'd said it so fast, so quick, that even he hadn't realized what had come out of his mouth.

"w-what?"

"fuck" he muttered, his eyes widening "I-I- well fuck this is as good as time as any"

"Pedro what are you sayin-"

"Y/n I like you" he's said before his mind would catch up "Like a lot"

Now it was you who couldn't talk

"W-what?"

He watched the confusion crowd your face,

"I-I really like you y/n. And I-I don't know why I'm saying it now but I am" a silly, amazed chuckle left his mouth "I like you y/n, every single thing about you, every single moment with you- I just- I love it"

His heart was beating so fast he was surely going into cardiac arrest soon, while all you could do was blink to try and understand if all this was a dream.

"I-Are you b-being serious?"

He swallowed what felt like concrete in his mouth

"Yes" he nodded

"Y-you like me?" you couldn't help but smile a stunned smile

"I do, y/n, I really do, and I know this is not the best time I could have chosen bu- "

Your mind was a mess, but it still worked enough to make you able to shut him up... by simply crashing his lips with yours.

And even if it was winter, you didn't think you'd ever been so warm,

"I like you too Pedro" you laughed giddily as you leaned away just an inch "A lot"

[the-dark-parade]

WARNINGS! THIS STORY CONTAINS... angst + fluff + lilia×fem reader

A/N: Dear souls, for the moment, thank you for waiting! Once more, I hope my work pleases you. If you are not comfortable with this, feel free to leave. If you would like a version with male reader instead, please request it. Just for your info, my prev fic is still on hiatus. One of these days I'll make a masterlist of my works... Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. I'm already starting part 3, sorry if this story doesn't fit your expectations!

Now, the parade continues its second destination...

Part 2

You're in a shitty story as a mob, what more could go wrong?

(if only this was a dream...)

.............................

...you open your eyes.

You opened your eyes!

You opened your goddamn eyes already, and even pinched yourself! Hard!

Once, twice, thrice, twisted it, pulled it, you basically tried everything you could!

But..

...you just couldn't get out of this dream.

The walls, ceiling, bed, and everything around you just screamed "this is war".

How, you may ask?

Well for starters, you're in.. a tent, it seems. Low quality.

The bedding doesn't even feel like bedding. It's just some fabric over.. grass. Literal. Grass.

But the worst part about this are 3 main things.

You could feel pain from wounds. (1 covers your whole head and 2 others for your arms. They all ache and itch under all those bandages. You didn't want to believe it at first, but fuck it's itchy as hell.)

As if that wasn't enough, you could hear. Too well for comfort. And you may ask how that's a bad thing.

Well it is. A major, major bad thing. You could hear basically everything between an estimated 10-20 meters, but you're not too sure. From other people's heavy breathing to crickets outside, it felt like everything was being mega-phoned into your ears. Even things you never noticed or heard before were at the noise level of people mumbling.

It is absolutely horrible. Your eardrums feel like exploding, (you hope it's not bleeding at this point) but the bandage around your head helps ever so slightly. You curse this newfound ability.

On top of that, you could also smell the blood, rot, and dirt from all directions. (Like your sense of hearing, your sense of smell has never been this good, even if it's just slightly better than your usual sense of smell. It's just that your surroundings stink and you wish you had a nose-block.)

Luckily, you could still sit up, so you did.

And guess what you saw?

Well, it should be obvious. As if the smells that invaded your nose and overwhelmed you wasn't a tell-tale sign already.

And so, you glanced at your surroundings with a swift turn of your head and eyes. Was it just you, but could you see better?

To your not-so-surprising surprise, there were so. many. injured yet beautiful people(?) - in your brain, you understood that they were people (at least in looks) but their ears were pointy.

...

Curiosity kills the cat, huh?

Well you surely understood that idiom the moment you touched your own ears.

With what you sensed through the bandages on your entire right arm, your fears turned out to be true.

... it's pointy.

Your ears are fucking pointy.

Haha. Hahaha.

This is not a fucking dream.

This is not.. a dream, is it?

And if all those things, no, people, no, you suppose they're called faes, are real...

Then.. did you truly die from reading that shitty novel?

...

...oh.

You wonder about your friends and family, (if you even had any in the first place) but decide to suppress those thoughts before you get a panic attack.

Anyways, onto your next move!

So, using your experience of reading so much fanfiction, you know just what to do!

Thus, you muster up my courage and reach out a hand to the lady(?) man(?) fae.

Their face was covered with some sort of mask. And you decide to go with she for pronouns as her hair is long.

After scanning the place with your eyes for a bit, you notice that everyone had some sort of mask beside them.

...exactly like the ones that were in that shitty novel...

"urm... what.. date is it now? And where are we? I'm a bit confused."

...you hope she doesn't see how much you're sweating. Is it even a she? You rack your brain, yet you can't figure it out due to the mask. You just decide to call her "green sheep" cause the mask she's wearing is green, and it's a sheep.

She responds back.. something. You somehow understand what she's talking about even though my human - not human - ears cannot comprehend it.

What you managed to catch was "Briar", exactly the same name as the fae's country in the book.

But what you suppose was slightly better was the date. It was 10 years before the main story would end.

After that would be the d day, the day were you and everyone else in this country die.

It's okay, everything's okay!

You are NOT freaking out!

(...not here, at least.)

...

...you want to cry.

Your injuries still hurt and your bandages still itch. Even after so many days of lying in bed.

(...but it's not like that's the only reason.)

Anyways, you suck it up.

It's the only thing you can do now anyways.

-

-

-

The days pass by pretty slowly. You can't believe it's only been a week since you got here. It feels so much longer than that.

Day after day, you get a new memory of who "you" used to be.

You suppose it's better for you...

Like clockwork, you apply the little amount of ointment you're given, change the bandages on your wounds, resist the urge to scratch, eat, exercise as much as I can, sleep and repeat.

It's not so bad after some time.

...

...haha, who are you joking?

You've resorted to talking (in your head, you're not that big of a weirdo!) to yourself because you're so lonely and have no friends here.

Your hand twitches from time to time because you forget you don't have your phone with you anymore.

Everyone is extremely tense and stressed out, not just you.

At night, you're unable to sleep, and not just because your hearing has gotten exceptionally better.

The clanging of swords, the whispers and the different people being shuffled in day after day keeps you up at night.

And even if you do sleep, all you have are nightmares.

Dreams of the modern life you used to have.

It isn't so unbelievably strange that you miss it now. Anyone in your shoes would. The convenience and comfort it came with was extremely addicting.

The more you think about it, the more you can't sleep.

And thus, you lay awake in bed, eyes open, just hearing the tick of the clock.

How long has it been?

How long will you be here?

You're scared. You're lonely. You want to go home. Badly.

...

...But you can't do a single thing about it, and you start to feel numb and accept your fate. It's highly unlikely at this rate.

You just wish this is all a bad dream.

.............................

A/N: You're in denial and will soon have a mental breakdown hahaha! I'm pretty sure my writing style changed, so sorry if you dislike it. Stay tuned for part 3!! Sorry for the long ass waiting times I'll try to post more often 😔😔😔

It'll take a few more chapters til lilia comes idk though but kinda slow burn??

extra for males:

You wake up and wonder.. is your ding dong still there?!

You check your pants and come to a horrible realization...

IT'S GONEEEEEEE!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

😞😞😞😞😔😔😔😔😔😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[anamelessfool]

How do you do that? LOL I have no idea what I’m doing (maybe) An Art Tutorial

Folks have commented on my more rendered art recently and I’m flattered. I literally have no idea what I’m doing. Well, I sorta do. I am mostly using masks in Procreate. I’m technically using the Debaser Pack by True Grit Texture Supply, but you don’t really need it. All you need is some texture layers. You could even do this just by making halftones of solid color layers. I used to do a lot of digital photo collage back in the day and at one point had a huge library of scans of paper and fabrics and also random textures I saw on the street. Wood, stone, sidewalk, metal, foliage, water. Took out my digital camera (yes, it was that long ago) and snapped a photo to use. There’s also a lot of free halftone textures online.

I have a few “overlay texture” layers. I “Create Mask” and then invert the mask so I can “paint” the color on. For my more simple stuff I do just that. I add a “Deep Shadow” layer in Overlay mode of a dark brown (or teal if it’s white) to make sure the darkest shadows are truly dark. The white areas are just the mask erased. It helps that fallout ghouls are skrungly and textured to be begin with. Sometimes I select areas and add little bits of black spray paint in lots of very transparent layers.

Everything is rendered under a multiply layer of a hi-res scan of vintage newsprint.

So how about the more detailed things that came about from an embarrassing amount of shirtless photo references??? In a lust-fueled haze I realized I can have a dark layer (in my case, a “black ink texture scan” with an inverted mask underneath a color layer. The color texture layer is around 70% opacity, give or take. On that black ink layer mask I add the white highlights to the tops of forms and use the smudge tool to distribute it across the specific form. Once in a while I shut off the color layer so I can see the bare rendering layer on its own and fix things.

So I just sort of pet him. For hours.

Focusing on the LIGHT areas instead of the shadow really is a game-changer! Before, my digital art looked super muddy because I was invested in adding dark. If areas are very very dark I add that dark brown overlay layer. For tattoos it’s a dark blue overlay mode layer, but with a mask on it so I can softly erase areas to make it look more set in to the skin (without destroying the original art). Very bright areas and the tops of forms I add a “highlight layer” of pure white gestural lines.

Moral of the story is just play around and do whatever. The old times of having a beautifully perfect anime-style drawing with very formal layers of shadow, highlight, color has been dead for ages. It’s what kept me away from pursuing digital art for literal years.

[3terna15unshin3]

Connected

—

A/N: idea came from this ask, so thank u anon🥰🥰 it was so fun to think of how Matty and Este’s relationship was seen from the other side like what fans pick up on, and also establish how much they decide to share with fans vs keep to themselves. this concept is so interesting to me but i had a hard time writing from the pov of a fan hahaha so i just did it this way instead :))

This obvs is based heavily on TBSG lore so none of this makes sense if you haven’t read the main fic - go do that first!! and also check out the Instagram AUs, they add to the pizazz

—

“Love, look what I just saw on Twitter. This is hilarious.”

Este points her phone screen towards Matty as they sit in bed on a Sunday morning. He yawns, tired and still half asleep, then blinks his eyes a few times to read what she’s showing him. It’s a tweet from a fan that sits in her mentions from a couple of days ago when a clip from his Zane Lowe interview resurfaced.

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

thinking about the fact that matty mentioned meeting e.manansala when she worked at a bookstore in manc to zane and in this 2018 interview he said his fav spot in the city is Greenhouse Books …….. what are the chances this is the same bookstore bc that would be so😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 https://manchesterwire.co.uk/?s=matty+healy+give-yourself-a-try/arts&culture/article

jaymie SAW UNDO LIVE trmanb1ackk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Hold on you might be onto something

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to trmanb1ackk

right like okaayyy bookstore worker x customer to lovers notting hill pipeline????? 🤭 huge if true

She watches his eyes scan over the text and a fuzzy smile grow on his face. Matty loves talking about Este when he can—to bring some much deserved attention to her writing—and did so often, but does’t always mention many the details of their relationship. That was until strolling around the Northern Quarter with Zane brought a bit of it out of him.

Este is what brings him back to Manchester the most often, from visiting her family and Cate and Georgia to just needing a bit of a homey feeling from its familiar pubs and nostalgic shops. So, naturally, Matty talked about her in the interview done for the release of Being Funny—explaining how they’d met and how much the city means to them both.

“How they put two and two together is beyond me,” he says, scratching his head. “That Manchester Wire interview was five years ago now, you know. Did you ever read that?”

She chuckles. “Course I did! We had a few fans come in that summer with the sole intention of coming to a place you recommended, actually.”

“Why have you never told me that?” Matty asks, “You’re welcome for the business, by the way.”

“You never even told me about your little shout out, to be fair. I had to find out on my own,” Este teases. “Plus, we weren’t even a thing at that point—we’d met once! Quite creepy, in retrospect.”

“When you put it like that it’s honestly so cringe so please change the subject now.” Matty buries his head in the bunches of sheets that sit in her lap, embarrassed and frankly too sleepy to defend himself.

Este giggles, letting her hands settle into his curls. “Oh c’mon, you weren’t cringe. I’m just pulling your leg. It was sweet,” she reassures him.

“You’re just saying that because you feel bad,” he whines, then rubs his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them. “That’s so crazy that they dug that up, though. I’m not sure if many people know you’ve been around since then.”

“They probably looked at your life in 2019 and figured you were a rockstar with a new girl in every city but in reality you were calling me to get to sleep every night and doing origami in your free time because it reminded you of me.”

Matty’s jaw drops at her blunt comments. “I was about to get mad but I can’t even disagree.” He sits up, raking the hair out of his eyes. “Do people still use the word ‘simp’? Can that be applied to this situation? Was I a simp?”

She throws her head back, mouth wide, as she laughs at how ridiculous his question is.

“Please don’t say ‘simp’, love. You’re 34.” Este squeezes out between her giggles, “But no, people don’t use that word anymore. And yes it can be applied. And also yes, you were. And still are.”

“Proudly am,” he adds.

She leans into his side and he snakes his arm around her waist. They sit there, Matty only in a pair of pyjama pants and her an oversized tee, scrolling through the funny replies to the tweet and how big of a deal some fans were making it.

“You should respond. Tell Megs that she’s right.”

“Seriously?” Este asks, shocked that he’d want her to engage in something so meaningless and speculative.

But alas, he nods casually with a smile. “Yeah. They seem sweet, and just curious. And maybe being such a simp will give me some brownie points,” confirms Matty.

“God, enough of that word!”

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Can confirm🤝

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

MEGS OH MY GOD

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

UMMMMMMMMMMM

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

omg hi😭😭😭 are being fr i can’t cope

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Greenhouse is the bookstore i worked at and is where matty and i met that year:)) and hi💌

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

i think i’m psychic for guessing that🤭🤭🤭🤭

—

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

k now i’m going crazy bc i had no clue him and este had been dating for that long💀 was genuinely convinced it had been 3 years max

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Literally they didn’t post each other until like 2020

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

I think she was at the 2018 Pryzm show too. Not sure but I was at the after party and remember seeing her there lol

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

WHAT…….. this lore being uncovered omg

“Someone recognises you from the Brief Inquiry album release show?!” exclaims Matty in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

They still sit in bed as Este types away, having fun interacting with the small group. He leans his head on her shoulder and watches her as she does it.

“They’ve known you longer than I have, you know. They know their stuff,” she responds.

“Even I don’t remember you being at the Pryzm show.”

Este’s mouth falls open in shock, thoroughly offended. “You prick.”

“I’m joking!” Matty defends through fits of laughter. “C’mon E, I’m joking.”

She knows he is, but enjoys the theatrics of it all; shoving his head off her shoulder and scooting away from his touch in protest.

“That was a special night for me! The first time I saw you play and met the guys! Don’t make fun!” Este pouts, crossing her arms playfully.

“Fine. I take it back, I take it back,” Matty begs, dragging her back over to him and bringing her legs over top of his. He grabs her hand and places a kiss on her palm. “I remember meeting Cate, and introducing you to Louis. And Ross making fun of my gallbladder surgery, and leaving Cate on the dance floor to get drinks, and screaming at each other over the music at the bar. You telling me about the anniversary party. I very much remember!”

“Okay, okay. Enough gushing. I forgive you.”

Matty pecks her palm once more and shuffles her even closer. “Open Twitter back up. This is fun.”

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

This is absolutely shocking bc how did his chronically online ass manage to hide a whole gf that long

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

fr!!! like do we think she was on the abiior tour with them bc i swear jordan absolutely fed us with so much bts content it would be impossible to miss?? someone dig

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1D and ittsjudesk

If u scroll back on her IG u can see Matty in her comments since then. And they’d repost each other on their stories and stuff🥲 So not that hidden if ur a stalker like me lmao

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

thoroughly upset that i missed so much bf matty content </3

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

Ignore me stalking u🤭🤭 i was indeed at that Pryzm show lol but we weren’t dating yet. And during abiior tour I saw a few UK shows but otherwise i was just in Manc working/being a bad groupie x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Also matty is sitting beside me now and he is cool with me filling u in (it was his idea) and he says hi. and that u guys are cute

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

ohhh yes u are a working woman how could i forget!! bookstore worker/groupie same difference. thank u for responding😭 u are the coolest❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (also hi matty😳)

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to e.manansala

Hi Matty sorry for calling u chronically online x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

He forgives you (but it’s true imo)

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to e.manansala

este wait i have to know …. since u are a former bookstore girlie turned writer are u the reason matty periodically spam posts a bunch of literature on his instagram stories???? did u convert him to bookstoregirlieism??

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

I am obsessed with the idea that he was illiterate before meeting me so i’m gonna say yes. thank u for that

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

Liv it’s me I stole the phone and don’t appreciate this sentiment tbh. You should know I’ve always been a wanker so all the literature spams are just me letting that out and este just enables me. hope that helps x Matty

[dannythedog]

Collage by @stardust-chords-enthusiast

Long Past Dawn part Two

Part One

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: You've grown up with Sam Kiszka as a best friend. As the two of you get older, you realize your feelings may be morphing into something more. What will happen when Sam finally invites you to the annual Kiszka lake trip where a string of crimes have taken place?

Warnings: 18+, brief smut, talk of death, angst

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy part two! This one is much shorter than the first chapter. I reread that first part and it took way too long, so I chopped this part. Thank you to anyone who took the time to read this. I'm excited to continue this series and see how I can develop this world!! Feedback and/or comments are always appreciated :)

-

“Jake’s dead.”

Your blood runs cold as Danny’s words sink in. It feels as though the entire world has stopped spinning, yet your body is still flying around the sun. The feeling of dread that you’ve grown all too familiar with in the last twelve hours amplifies and consumes you, swallowing you into its depths.

“That’s a fucked up joke, Dan,” Sam finally speaks.

“I’m not joking. He’s dead. He’s- guys he’s not moving. I went over and shook him. He’s dead,” Danny panics.

Your stomach is churning, their argument falling upon your deaf ears. This isn’t real. Jake isn’t dead. Your knees shake as you stare at Danny’s broad shoulders that are now frantically moving with his arms. Muffled voices try to penetrate your state of shock, but nothing is sharp enough. The tears welling in your unblinking eyes are the only sign that you’ve heard Danny at all.

The feeling of Sam tugging at your hand pulls you out of it - but only enough to follow the brothers outside.

“You guys are such fucking liars,” Josh grumbles with an eye roll. “It was funny last night when we were scaring Bug, but the moment has passed.”

Your heart aches for the twin. How could he be so casual about this? Didn’t he see the look on Danny’s face? His curls swirl in the early morning breeze and it makes you want to wrap him in your arms, to ward away the distress and grief that will try to befriend him. Josh’s features are still light and carefree despite a twinge of annoyance. A slight sunburn atop the bridge of his nose and cheeks gives him a youthful, innocent glow. You hate that it’ll be marred.

Danny leads the group of you off the deck and towards the old dock where you saw the silhouette last night. Bile rises in your throat as you recall last night’s memory. Sam still grips your hand as you slowly head down the embankment, eyes frantically scanning the shore for a body. His face remains calm, but his grip is tight and his palm starts to sweat, giving away his true emotions. You’re grateful that you took the time to admire his peace when you woke. You don’t know when you’ll see it again.

“Where is he?” Sam huffs out, nerves beginning to be evident.

Danny pauses, bending over to rest his hands on his knees and breathe deeply before continuing to the structure. You see Jake’s bare foot laying eerily still in the sand, the rest of his body being obscured by the dock. Before you can even think, you’re ripping your hand out of Sam’s and turning your back to the sight. “I can’t look,” you heave.

“It’s just a joke, y/n,” Josh snaps. “They’re just fucking with us.” He doesn’t mean to take his annoyance out on you, but he’s trying desperately to hide his fear. Josh is terrified that his twin is really laying there dead in the sand, having passed away while he was only yards away peacefully sleeping.

Josh and Danny approach the younger twin while Sam stays halfway between them and you. “Get up,” Josh demands and kicks at Jake’s unmoving body. He’s face down, half of his face pressed into the wet sand while the tide gently kisses his cheeks.

Sam takes a tentative step forward when he sees his big brother lean down and press Jake’s face fully into the water. “I SAID GET THE FUCK UP!”

“Josh,” Sam whimpers, lower lip beginning to tremble.

Just as you begin to cross the sand to Sam, Jake’s body is rolled over. His face is red and he's spluttering for air, water coming out of his nose and mouth. “Jesus!” he shouts. “I wasn’t actually dead, but you damn near killed me!”

“You’re fucked up,” Josh seethes at his twin and gives him a harsh push to the shoulder. Confusion washes over you as you watch the younger twin rise from the water and brush sand from his clothes. Was this all just some sick dream?

“And you,” Josh jabs at Danny’s chest. “You’re fucked up for taking it that far.”

The tall man’s gaze is filled with regret, brown eyes wide and sheepish. Before he has the chance to apologize, Josh is trekking through the sand back to the house.

Shock and dread are still coursing through your body as you watch Jake push wet strands of hair away from his tanned face. “It wasn’t supposed to go that far,” he groans. “We didn’t think you’d fall for it that easily.”

“You’re one hell of an actor,” Sam sneers. He gives his brother one final glare before turning on his heel to follow Josh. You’re rooted to the spot, unable to process anything that’s happened in the last ten minutes. You want to lash out at them like the others did, but a swirl of emotions weighs your chest down, making it feel like you’re choking. The beating sun only adds to the mix. Your brain feels fried and sluggish - entirely too perplexed from the emotional whiplash.

Jake’s warm eyes bore into yours, pleading for you to understand that it was only a joke. “Bug, c’mon. It’s not that serious.”

All you can manage is a shake of your head before trudging off to find Sam. Jake may not think it’s a big deal, but this joke was entirely too convincing. Entirely too real.

The breeze isn’t welcoming anymore, it chills your skin and draws out goosebumps. You find Sam laying in a hammock on the side of the house that’s bordered by forest. His wiry arms are folded over his bare chest as the wind swirls his brown locks around his face. He hadn’t even had the chance to put it up this morning.

“Hey,” you call quietly so you don’t startle him as you stand next to the hammock. “Are you okay?”

Bony fingers are wrapping around your wrists and swiftly tugging you on top of him. A shocked squeak falls from your lips as you land in an awkward position, but Sam wastes no time in readjusting you so that you’re cuddled up to him.

He nuzzles into your neck and takes a deep breath. “He’s such an asshole.”

You know you’re supposed to be focusing on comforting him, but the way his breath tickles across your neck makes your heart thud against your ribcage and your skin flush. You swallow thickly before nodding. “It was a fucked up joke. It was eerie how real it felt.”

Sam’s just as nervous as you are about the proximity of your bodies, but he takes a risk anyway. Planting a gentle kiss to the underside of your jaw, he tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “I think his punishment should be the silent treatment,” he murmurs against your skin. “Spend the day with me, Bug. Just me and you.”

His plush lips have you ready to agree in an instant. “What about Josh?” you breathe. “He seemed pretty upset.”

“Fuck Josh,” he mutters as he repositions his body so that it’s slightly on top of yours. “He’s a big boy. He can be mad at his twin all day long while I spend time with my sweet girl. As a real boyfriend and girlfriend now.”

“And how do you suppose we get them to leave us alone?”

“That’s easy, just have to pretend like were fucking if they try to come close to us,” Sam speaks nonchalantly - as if he was just telling you his favorite color.

“Samuel!” You’re positive that your cheeks have to be the same shade of bright red as the kayak that’s bobbing along the shore.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Unless?”

“I swear to God, I will leave the hammock if you keep it up.” Trying to prove your point, you push at his chest, trying to get your legs out from underneath him.

“Bug, stop it. You know I’m playing with you,” he whines and grabs your waist tighter.

“Yeah yeah. C’mon, I wanna go take a walk along the shore and see what seashells I can get.”

You hop out of the black hammock and hold your hand out to the lanky boy. Everytime Sam smiles at you - you feel like you are going to have a heart attack. He’s had you in a love spell for the past several years. He was finally yours and you were finally his.

“Huh?”

“What?” You look up at the boy - well he prefers for you to call him a man. He has three sparse mustache hairs coming in and it has him convinced that he is a man and he needs to be referred to as one.

“You said something.” He follows you almost obediently to the sand, fingers squeezing yours in sporadic rhythms.

“Did you smoke something?”

“I’ve been with you all morning, dingus. When would I have time to do that?” You feel yourself blush even more when Sam zeroes his line of sight to you. “I already heard what you said, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“And what did I say?” you play coy. You don’t feel like being even more embarrassed.

“That I was finally yours and you were finally mine.” Sam stops you along the shore to stand in front of you for a second, beaming at you when he notices you lowering your head to focus on the waves that are crashing into your feet. “Hey, stop being shy. It’s just me, Bug.”

Sam places his pointer finger under your chin, forcing you to lift your head to look at him fully. Your eyes search each other, just taking in the moment and the realization of last night hits you even more.

“You gonna kiss her or what?” Jake. He always has to come along and ruin a moment.

Sam’s eyes tear away from yours, jaw clenching tightly. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re all pretty pissed at you,” Sam hisses. “Why don’t you and Danny fuck off for the day.”

Jake doesn’t budge, his brown eyes boring into your own, nearly begging for you to tell him everything is okay. “You two finally get together? Or is Sam still being a pussy?”

You could practically feel the anger radiating from Sam’s body as he takes a step forward. Thinking quickly, you place your palm onto his bare chest to stop him from doing anything he may regret. The heat leeches into your skin and makes you feel woozy.

“Calm down, Sam. He gets it - what he did was shitty.” Your gaze flicks up to Jake again, expression soft so he knows he’s forgiven. “We did get together, yes. Last night. We were going to tell everyone this morning, but it seems like you and Danny had other plans.”

His big eyes twinge with regret. All he does is give a simple nod - one that he knows you’ll understand.

“Looks like I finally won, huh, Jake?” Sam spits. “Looks like I finally got her.”

“Sam, you know it was never like that.”

“Oh really? I saw how you acted towards her. I saw all your secret moments and stupid little looks. She doesn’t want you. She never has. Grow up and leave us the fuck alone.”

“Sam,” you breathe, not sure why he’s being so hard on his brother. “Come on, let’s just go, okay?”

His mouth opens to go at Jake again, but he’s interrupted. “I’m happy for you two. Really.”

Confusion flashes across Sam’s face for a quick moment, but it’s gone just as fast. “Let’s go, Bug.”

He tugs your hand, leading you further down the shore. Tension radiates off of him. His muscles are taut, face set into a stony expression. A frown floats down your face. You could try to explain why he shouldn’t be so upset with Jake, why he should take this as an opportunity to be grateful that his brother is in his life, but you know he needs time. So, you let him lead you across the wet sand and towards a little island. It was really more like a large sandbar, but you’d think of it as your own personal island. Sam and Bug Isle.

He wades into the shallow water rather aggressively. Thin legs cut through each gentle bob of the tide to reach your destination. You follow him without a second thought. He reaches out a hand to steady you as you climb onto your little island - any aggression he may have had is gone as soon as his skin touches yours.

“This could be our place,” you suggest. “I was thinking of it as our own island.”

Troubled brown eyes gaze into your own and soften with each word. You could tell he likes the idea, but is too trapped in his feelings to voice it. The gentle squeeze of his large hand on yours is enough of an answer.

“You shouldn’t be too upset with him. I know what he did is fucked up and I’m upset, too, but I think I’m more glad that he’s actually okay. I’m happy we still have him with us.”

A puff of air leaves his nose and he looks out at the water. “He’s a douche. He always knows just how to fuck everything up.”

“Hey, leave that all behind. Don’t bring bad vibes to our island.”

You finally coax a small smile from Sam. His shoulder touches yours in a tender gesture. “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s make this morning about us. Should we christen the island?”

A mutter of his name escapes you in pure embarrassment. Christening a dinky little spot of land that’s so out in the open? Something that’s not quite in sight of the cabin full of his family, but is still right there?

He leans closer, his warm skin soothing the goosebumps that litter yourself. “Then just kiss me for a while.”

Now this was doable. Sam turns his body so he’s fully facing you now, knees knocking against yours. You can’t help the small smile that forms when his droopy eyes flick to your lips. The first kiss is tender, much like the one you shared in the bedroom last night. It’s full of nervous feelings and simple newness. You sort of wish he would invest in chapstick.

Any thoughts of chapped lips escape your mind when he grazes his fingers across your cheek to tilt your head upwards a bit, deepening the kiss. His full lips move cautiously against your own as he explores his new canvas. Shaky hands skirt up his bare chest - you’re thankful he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt this morning. His skin is soft and smooth under your touch and you swear you can feel his thudding heart. It makes you all too aware of how fast yours is beating.

“Relax,” he murmurs against your lips. “It’s just me. Don’t get all jittery on me.”

He pulls back to look at you, a lopsided grin on display. “My little jitterbug.”

You huff and trace your fingertips against his shoulder. “That’s the problem. It’s you. Yesterday I was beyond terrified that you’d figure out how I felt and now we’re here. Just freely kissing.”

“Do you like it?”

You scoff. “Of course I do. I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be,” he insists and presses a kiss to the very corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you could mess this up if you tried.”

Then his plush lips are on yours again. Sam grasps the back of your neck to keep you close, his fingers wrapping themselves up in baby hairs. This time he beckons your mouth open with a gentle lap of his tongue. It felt almost greedy the way you welcomed him in. The sound of the waves match up with each swirl of your tongues and the wind caresses you just as softly as he does. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced anything so romantic.

The mood shifts when he presses his body forward and guides you to lay on your back. He mumbles something about being more comfortable this way. A few weeds poke at your back and sand travels its way into your shorts, but you don’t care. You don’t care about anything uncomfortable while you’re with him.

A large, shaky hand rests on your hip and massages gently. He got on you about being nervous, but you could tell he felt the same. His fingers slowly slip under your baggy sleep shirt and knead your side. Sam breaks the kiss to look into your eyes.

“Y/n, I really like you,” he whispers, his sweet voice trembling.

You whisper back the same sentiment. It was obvious what he wanted to do. It was obvious he wanted you right there on your little island and you think you’d let him take you.

Seeing him so nervous and gentle sent a wave of confidence through you. In one swift movement, you sweep off your shirt and toss it to the side. The way his eyes bulge at the sight of your breasts makes you want to run for the hills. Maybe you weren’t actually feeling all that confident.

“Oh, Bug,” he utters, eyes locked onto your body. “You’re beautiful.”

You want to shy away and you give into the feeling. In your moment of bashfulness, you cover your chest with your arms.

“No. No, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me.” He tugs at your arms in full seriousness. “Let me see how stunning you are.”

He always knew how to weaken your resolve. Slowly, you move your arms back down to your sides. His smile is breathtaking. Ever so carefully, his hands slide up your sides and over your ribs, then they cup your breasts. It wasn’t the awkward groping you got so used to with inexperienced boys. This was tender. Full of emotion. His thumbs brush over your nipples and it sends a rather delicious shiver through you.

His hands never leave you as he attaches his lips to that same spot under your jaw from earlier. A place you’re growing to love being kissed. Bursts of kisses are pressed to your throat as he moves himself over you. One knee is between your thighs and the other takes the brunt of his weight. Sloppy, wet kisses move down your chest and to the top of your left breast.

He looks up at you in a moment of pause. “Do you want this?”

Do I want this? Last night and this morning have been such a whirlwind of emotions. Everyone is overwhelmed and frazzled, but maybe this is what I need. Maybe this is the release we both need to get back on track to what’s supposed to be a good vacation.

“Yeah. I want you.”

You undress each other right there on your island. His touches are slightly fumbled but given with the most care you’ve ever felt. When he presses into you it’s electric. Whispered words and soft praises are shared with each movement of his hips. This moment is engrained on that bit of land. You leave a bit of yourselves there for the rest of time.

Afterwards you lay there basking in the morning sun. The chaos of last night and this morning had completely slipped your brain. “I don’t want to go back,” he groans.

“So we won’t,” you hum, nuzzling into him further. “Let’s stay here.”

“I’m a little cold and I’m starving,” he huffs. So you do go back. You walk hand in hand back to the cabin with rosy cheeks and an excited glow about you. There was leftover breakfast from when Josh had cooked. The rest of the morning was spent wrapped up in Sam. You felt like you had to make up for lost time. That is until the eldest brother appears with a mock stern look.

“We shouldn’t leave you two alone with all this nonsense that’s going on.” You weren’t sure if he was talking about the murders or the obvious fact you and Sam had hooked up. “Let’s go for a hike.”

[viburnt]

Takami K. (Hawks) || Public

Type: Reading bites

Genre: NSFW/Suggestive

Notes: Oh, God. Oh, fuck. I still don't know how to write sex, jfc. I'm practicing.

Characters involved: Takami Keigo (Hawks)

Prompt: “You smell so sweet”/ Public indecency

It would be a scandal if the number two pro-hero, Hawks, dated someone in public. It'd backlash, that's for sure; the media is known for its vicious bite once they manage to catch a prey.

Perhaps that's why Keigo is tangled up between your legs this morning, his hips erratically moving as he shoots one last load before getting ready for work.

—Fuck, baby, you have me shooting blanks!— The dirty blond hollers with a slight grunt, allowing himself to rest next to you.

You purr in content, feeling him cuddle against your naked torso in search of warmth.

—I guess it's true that birds are a very horny kind.— Keigo hears you tease as your hand gently moves away the hair from his sweaty forehead. —Now if only you took the boring part of your job as seriously as this.

—I don't wanna go to that fucking meeting.— The hero pouts, throwing a small fit.

—Can't do that, you have an interview. A deal's a deal, remember?

Yes, pro-hero Hawks doesn't date anyone in public, but he certainly plows his personal assistant in secret.

—Now, now, hop in the shower. I have to pick my suit for today.— You instruct, allowing Keigo a couple more seconds of laziness between the cotton sheets of your bed.

Stretching, Takami curses underneath his breath. He hated public interviews, and even though he was a sucker for the camera lenses, he hated having to leave the comfort of your body to go pose for the fans.

—Can you at least wear the blue one? The one that makes your chest pop out more.— He begs, finally leaving the bed to run the shower. —I like it, it's sexy as hell.

You rise a brow, but indulge into his petition.

—Alright, I guess. Anything else?

The blond's golden eyes scan the way your naked body waltzes from one corner of the room to the other, picking up all the necessary items to dress up.

—Say, is underwear really necessary?— Keigo's lips trail, testing the waters. It was common for him to slip a sly comment like that to gauge a reaction from you. —You know, we could always play a little while working.

And for the very first time, you decide to follow the flow.

—Oh, yeah? What kind of game, hmm? Gonna sneak a hand on my pocket?— Takami hears you say with a ribbing tone, his lips curling into a smirk as you continue. —Or perhaps you want to open that little new gadget I saw you buy a few nights before?

The blond raises his hands, much like a thief caught red-handed.

—Guilty as charged but, it's cheating if you peek at my Amazon account.— He blurts with a lazy side smile.

—Not really, specially not if you leave your account open on my laptop.— You laugh.

—Want to shower together? You know, save the planet, be eco-friendly.— Takami says, inviting you.

—We just had sex, though.

—Doesn't mean I can't grope your butt while I get clean.

…

—So, see this little remote here?— The hero says, shaking a black device between his fingertips. —If I feel like it, it'll vibrate just enough for you to cum.— He whispers into your ear.

You feel your heart beating hard inside your chest, biting your lip for a second as your eyes wandered to the many people in the studio.

—Alright, then I must be quiet while you play, huh? Wouldn't want anyone knowing your out here playing with me.

A grin splashed Keigo's face.

—Exactly! You catch on pretty fast, baby. Just sit nearby where my eyes can see you squirm.— He commands, sending a shiver down your spine.

The interview begins normally. You sit next to the cameras in a chair the staff provided. Keigo eye's you, waving his hand briefly.

—I also want to thank my lovely assistant for making this meeting happen, they work real hard every day!—

A camera lens quickly lands on you. The shocking sensation of the toy was, more or less, expected, but it still made you wriggle once it started. You just nodded your head, not wanting to draw much attention.

As the hero starts answering more questions, his fingers quickly shifted between speeds and patterns, edging your body up and down. He could see the way your hand tried to- unsuccessfully -hide the embarrassment on your face.

—Thank you so much for allowing us to interview you, Hawks! That's all for tonight's show, everyone, wonderful night!

The show wraps up.

Keigo waltzes up to you, helping you stand as your knees weaken. He leans closer for a second, taking a deep breath of your perfume.

—You smell so sweet… I wanna push my cock inside you again.— He mutters, earning a needy whimper from you.

—Please, just - take this off, I can't hold it any longer.— Takami hears you whine.

—Walk with me for a second, there must be a bathroom nearby.

Finding a private spot, Keigo leans your body against a wall and allows his hand to cross the limits of your clothing.

—Fuck, look at this, you are a mess.

In a swift movement, he lowered your pants enough to have access to your hole. He rubbed his clothed election against you, making you hiss.

—Say you want it.

—Please, please give it to me. Keigo, I need to cum...— You cry, feeling the toy still going on. —I feel like I'm going crazy, just put - fuck- put it in.

Plunging two fingers inside your drooly mouth and unbuckling his pants with the other, you feel his cock slowly pushing into you.

—Oh my fucking God.— The blond hissed, feeling you clamp around him as your climax was just next door. —You're so tight, Jesus Christ!

His pace is fast, messy, trying to give you as much as he can as quickly as possible. Besides the very slight buzz the toy produced, only his grunts and your heavy breathing could be heard.

—Want me to cum inside you? Just look at you, you're practically swallowing my cock effortlessly.

You roll your eyes behind your back as his free hand grabs your throat. The numbing sensation of your climax soon reaches you, milking the hero on the process.

Keigo likes this part of the job a bit more now.

Like my content? Comment and follow! The feedback encourages me.

[cambion-companion]

Shades of Blue

I've always wanted to explore (even with my broken keyboard) how Thrawn would address someone he cares about needing comfort.

You sat with the other members of the Chimaera crew around the intercom table, your uniform doing very little to keep out the chill seeping into your tired bones. It was too early in the morning to function properly, you were sure your own face reflected the exhaustion you saw in the people sat around you. Well, all faces save for that of your commanding officer. Thrawn's face was devoid of any signs of fatigue, though his expression looked mildly bemused as his red eyes scanned his crew's slack positions.

To your left Commander Faro poured herself a generous amount of steaming caf into a white mug. The cozy smell of it filled the room with a little more life.

After a moment where the Grand Admiral allowed you all to adjust to alertness, he spoke. "I've summoned you this morning so we may continue addressing the Mynock infestation troubling supply lines."

It took everything in you to suppress a groan, the Chimaera and her crew had been trying with no success to rid the fuel chain of the wire-chewing pests. Something in your body language must have shifted enough to draw your Admiral's attention because Thrawn shifted his gaze to you. "What is your opinion?" His voice was smooth and low as it usually was, but he clasped his hands behind his back while waiting for your answer.

You had joined the Chimaera's crew several years ago and had proven to be a competent addition to the team, so much so that Grand Admiral Thrawn had specifically requested you stay on with him even after you'd been offered a position on a different Imperial Star Destroyer.

You met Thrawn's gaze with sudden alertness and confidence, straightening your posture and explaining what you thought to be the best next steps in addressing the Mynock issue. Thrawn nodded at your words, his expression unchanging though you noticed his lips lift slightly in a slight smile as you continued.

One of many things that set your commanding officer apart from all the others in the Imperial Navy was his habit of asking his crew and others who would be considered subordinates what they thought of any given circumstance. He valued the input of others, not a sentiment shared in any other circles that you knew of. This played a large part in why Thrawn's crew felt so loyal to him.

"Perhaps if all else fails we could even try sending out individual TIE fighters against the beasts?" You glanced around at your peers as you finished speaking, looking for anyone else to give their thoughts.

Lieutenant Roz, an experienced officer aboard the Chimaera, snorted a little derisively, his eyes still a little red from sleep deprivation. "And who's going to fly those fighters? I've told you several times already we don't have pilots yet available. I do speak not just to hear my own voice you know."

All eyes flicked back to your face as you flushed, your brow furrowing as you tried to recall that conversation. Lieutenant Roz had taught you many things but you were almost positive he'd never mentioned lack of TIE fighters. You doubted yourself just enough to remain in an embarrassed silence, however. Your eyes flickered over to where Thrawn stood. He didn't look pleased.

You cleared your throat a little awkwardly. "With respect Lieutenant, I don't recall such a conversation taking place."

Roz shot you a stern look. "That speaks to your own incompetence, not my own."

"That is quite enough, Lieutenant." Thrawn's voice was unchanging in its calm cadence, but there was an edge to his words that caused Roz to glance down at his hands upon the table a little bashfully.

You had retreated into yourself at Roz's last comment, your hands folding tightly on your lap as you tried to school your expression into a mask of emotionless politeness. Perhaps it was due to the early hour but his words had stung, especially as they weren't true. He hadn't actually told you anything of the sort yet just made you look like a fool in front of everyone.

Thrawn thanked you smoothly for your input and moved on to asking Commander Faro for any additional information. You hardly heard them however, your ears seemed to be ringing as you fought with your emotions, your lips pressing together as you pretended to drink from your own mug of caf in order to hide your face as you blinked rapidly.

The rest of your crewmates woke up more as the meeting went on past the hour mark and they spoke up and shared their own ideas and calculations but you remained silent. When the meeting adjourned and Thrawn dismissed you back to your stations you hadn't said a word or really looked up from the space of table occupied by your now empty cup.

You rose to stand slower than the others and packed away your papers before departing the room. You felt the Grand Admiral's eyes on your back all the way out the door, though you didn't look around to meet them.

Your feet took you automatically to the washroom where you splashed some cold water on your face, trying to shake this mood off. When you looked into the mirror even you were shocked with how sad your expression was. Definitely something you'd have to work on, being able to mask your emotions better. Especially with an Admiral as perceptive as Thrawn.

You sighed heavily and exited the washroom, taking a moment to pause in the dark hallway, peering out the window into the vast beautiful star scape.

"I value your input, Ensign."

You jumped a little at Thrawn's unexpected voice and turned to face him. His eyes seemed to be fixed very intently upon your face as he spoke. "Do not allow the blunders of others to limit your own voice."

You straightened and gave Thrawn a little smile. "Yes, sir." You sighed a little allowing vulnerability to show. "It was early and what was said probably affected me more than it should have."

Thrawn nodded slowly. "I must admit, the sleep patterns of humans is still a little foreign to me. Your bodies must rest far longer than I am used to." He paused, studying your face a moment, his hand going up to touch his chin thoughtfully. "You did bring up a point I was going to make myself."

Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "You were?"

"Indeed." A small smile touched the corner of Thrawn's eyes. "This may be the perfect opportunity to test my new TIE defenders and their maneuverability."

"But Lieutenant Roz said we don't have pilots." You couldn't help yourself from adding. "Look at that. I remembered."

Thrawn's lips twitched as though he were suppressing a smile, his eyes softening on your face. "Well done, Ensign. The matter of acquiring pilots should be an easy one to resolve." He seemed to think for a moment. "I will have you dispatch a request for three to be sent to the Chimaera posthaste."

You gave him a salute. "Yes, Grand Admiral."

"If I may add a few last words." Thrawn drew a little nearer, his tall stature causing you to tilt your chin up to see his face. "So long as you are striving to learn and improve upon yourself, that is enough for me. Do not hold yourself to an impossible standard of perfection nor allow others to influence your opinion of yourself." His eyes seemed to glow a little brighter as he placed a warm hand upon your shoulder. "And come to me first if anyone continues to be unduly impatient with you."

Your mouth was very dry as his hand rested on your shoulder, it's weight both a comfort and a little intimidating. He seemed to care a great deal about this predicament and your emotional state, it almost was as if he had his own personal experience dealing with such people.

After a moment of looking into each other's eyes, you nodded again at Thrawn, a small smile of gratitude softening your features. "Thank you."

Thrawn removed his hand and moved back to an appropriate distance, his voice was still soft and held a measure of fondness. "Dismissed, Ensign."

[eashmo]

7 minutes in hell or is it heaven? Part 1 (chubby nerd Y/N x BillyHargrove)

-Welcome To hell-

Warnings: eventual smut, fluff, and lots of angst.

Please be nice, I'm trying 🫣, this is my first ever attempt at a multi chapter story.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The empty beer bottle came to a sudden stop as it pointed directly at the one person i dreaded but somewhat happy having to spend Seven Minutes in Heaven with.

The asshole gave a smirk as he saw the bottle was pointing at him.

SHIT! i thought.

He had been an annoying pain in the ass since the day I met him. my bully from day one. The guy I fantasized about. I'm starting to regret even coming to the party with Nancy, who Conveniently ditched me before the game even started, and saying yes to this game was only due to alcohol answering for me.

"Let's get this over with loser," he says with an annoyed huff.

"Great, this is going to be seven minutes in hell," i snapped.

Annoyed, i got up from the floor. He bites back a chuckle and follows behind you.

"Nice ass, y/n," he taunted and grabbed.

i roll my eyes at his comment and smack his hands away. Typical Hargrove. He opened the door to the bedroom and let you in.

"I can open the door myself, Hargrove," i say rudely.

"Princesses go first," he says sarcastically.

scoffing. "Oh my, a true gentleman," i faked swooned

Rolling his eyes while roughly pushing you in. He closed the door behind him. I about to throw hands until i notice how hungrily he was scanning my body.

Blushing , I did my own scan, seeing the black leather jacket that laid over a toned chest, his virgin Mary necklace that lays perfectly against his collarbone. His Denim jeans that were covering that perfect ass. His messy curly blonde hair that's begging to be touched. The sun kissed skin that looks like soft velvet. His disarable lips were always in a smirk. His ocean blue eyes that stare intensely at you like a predator observing its prey as I look directly into his eyes.

"Like what you see, nerd?" he says.

Eyes widing when i realized i just been caught with my hands in the cookie jar. A sinful cookie jar.

clearing my throat "Well are you going to kiss me already?,"crossing my arms.

dumbfounded by your sudden boldness. He blinked a few times as if he didn't hear you correctly.

"What?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "You're not going to fight me on this?"

"Do you want me to?" i say with a challenge. "Go ahead, hotshot."

He scoffed. "Seriously?"

"Did I stutter?" I smirked.

Earning me another scoff from him.

"Who knew y/n had a fiesty side under that nerdy exterior?" he retorted.

I laugh. "Are you afraid that little ol' me is too much for you then? "

"Me? Afraid? No way." he says. "I can handle you just fine, darlin."

"What are you waiting for then?

"Alright, y/n you asked for it,"

He approached me, standing about 5'10; his blue eyes are piercing into mine. He grabbed me roughly around the waist. I don't bother to resist. In fact, I melt into his touch like it was natural for us. He pulls me into him, pressing his body into mine.

Almost immediately, I was surrounded by a faint smell of chlorine, cologne, cigarettes, sweat, and beer. His scent that I secretly loved when he got to close in the halls to knock the books out of my hands. I feel his hands cup my ass and give it a squeeze. I blush as my hand slips past the jacket to run down the length of his torso, stopping at the top of his jeans.

His mouth immediately encases mine. His kisses are rough, hungry, and possessive. He tongues my mouth, not even giving me a chance to catch my breath.

I decide to battle for dominance since he always likes a fight. I tongue his mouth, giving his tongue a suck, then bit his lip.

"Darlin, you might make me fall in love with that attitude," he says

"Falling under my spell already, Hargrove?," i tease.

He chuckles as he is shaking his head in amusement. Billy threads his fingers in my h/c hair, pulling it so my head is at a good angle for him to continue his kisses. I thread his hair and give it some tugs, him lowly growling from the sensation of my hands wondering his body.

Deciding to take it up a notch, I try to push him against the wall despite being 5'5. he grins into the kisses, allowing me to push him back, knocking over whatever was in the way in the tiny bedroom, my hands griping the collar of the jacket. His hands tightly grip my hip. The sensation of his hands is making it hard to concentrate on the actual game.

After a few more mind-blowing kisses, his mouth is on my neck, sucking, licking, and biting. I'm sure he was going to leave a mark. His hands explore places that nobody has adventured to before.

Deciding to regain control, he gently pushed me against the nearby bed, pinning me into the mattress, straddling my thick thighs. He shrugged off the lather jacket and leaned down to hover over me as the sound of the metal accent crash on the hardwood floor. Soft but calloused hands, taking my wrist, and pin them above my head.

"Is this better than any of your dreams?," he says with a smirk.

looking scared. "How does he know?" I thought, was I that obvious? No, did one of your friends accidentally say something without realizing someone was listening? I bet it was Steve. That man can't keep his mouth shut, especially when it came to Hargrove.

Seeing you have an existential crisis, he laughs. "I accidentally read your journal you left in the library, also the doodles of me were...." cutting him off by Shoving him off me, I walk away from him crying a little due to the alcohol fading in my blood stream and because he's just going to make fun of me and tell everyone how much of a loser i was.

Grabbing my arm, he spins me into his chest. "Y/n, where the hell are you going?"

I was about to answer, but there was a loud knock on the door. "TIMES UP LOVEBIRDS!!"

part 2

Masterlist

2023

[your-divine-ribs]

Ice Cold Part 34

Words: 3k

I hope you guys don’t mind the Van-less chapters! He’ll be around soon enough but shit is about to go down for Lyla over the next few parts xxx

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

My heart thundered in my chest as I turned on to Sloane Street, pulling my coat collar up to shield me from the icy winter wind. The clear, crisp morning was deteriorating swiftly, the slate-grey sky full with the promise of heavy snowfall, unusual this early on in the season.

An image drifted across my mind. Seven year old me sitting huddled on my dad's lap, looking up at him keenly as he asked me what I was going to ask Santa Claus to bring me for Christmas. "A white Christmas of course Daddy! And I'm going to build the biggest snowman... much bigger than yours!"

"Ah pumpkin," he'd replied, affectionately tweaking my nose. "I don't think Santa's going to deliver on that one this year. Maybe next year though hey?"

True to my dad's word, the next winter Santa did bring snow. But my delight was short-lived. Two weeks after Christmas the Grim Reaper had also visited my family, cruelly snatching my father away, and with it my childlike wonder and innocence too.

I looked up at the leaden sky, saw a tiny flake start to spiral downwards through the air and watched its lazy descent to earth. It settled on the sleeve of my coat, a perfect crystalline star, and the sight made me hanker back to those days of my early childhood. Back then winter's first flurry of snow would have brought with it wide-eyed excitement, snow-ball fights and sledging, glowing cheeks and frost-nipped noses, woolly hats and curling up in my dad's lap with a steaming hot cup of cocoa. Now all it reminded me of was that fateful harsh winter that saw my dad get taken away from me.

I'd arrived early and the street was empty, and I pressed my back into the brickwork of the railway bridge, scanning my surroundings. Last time I'd been here was to meet Simon, and the horrific events of that day echoed in my head. I looked down at the pavement at my feet, picturing Simon's lifeless body, his eyes staring up at nothing, the gaping exit wound at his chest. It occurred to me then that if Paul really was the traitor then he would have been the one who orchestrated putting Simon into the organisation, his intelligence gathering just a ruse, the information he was passing on to the rest of the team simply a way of drawing us all into danger. Luring us in just enough so that whichever assassin was tasked with the hit could take a few agency lives at the same time. If it hadn't been Van I might well have been dead by now. Paul had even said so himself that it was like we were always one step behind. The step that he'd likely controlled. The thought lit an angry fire deep down in my gut as I stewed over the possible betrayal. I'd always thought that I was a good judge of character and trusted my instincts... until now. Now I didn't even know what to think.

My phone was in my back jeans pocket and although I was no longer being bombarded with calls it still vibrated from time to time. I didn't need to look at it to know that it would either be Paul or Van. Both desperate to find me, but their reasoning could be wildly different. Now I couldn't be sure that both wanted to preserve my life at all costs.

The faint rumble of an approaching car made me slip back into the shadows under the bridge. I pressed my back against the bricks, feeling my handgun pressing into my lower spine where it was concealed in the waistband of my jeans. I allowed myself a small peek down the road and saw a sleek red Porsche approaching.

'Slick bastard', I thought, and it brought to mind a comment that Jen had once made about the status symbols of expensive sports cars and how men used them to make up for certain areas of their anatomy that they were lacking in. It would have raised a smile if I wasn't so fearful about the meeting that I'd arranged.

The Porsche pulled up across the road and I slunk back into the shadows even further, trying to peer through the tinted windows to discern whether the person that I'd contacted had come alone. It was impossible to tell and my anxiety mounted. I was gripped with uncertainty, faltering even though I knew it was too late to go back. I watched as the driver's door opened and a large, tall figure stepped out and moved around the car, eyes scanning the area, immediately sighting me in my poorly hidden spot.

"Lyla..."

I had no choice then but to move forward and I did so hesitantly, eyes flicking all over as I did, taking everything in, reading the scene to try and pick up a potential threat.

"Sir... thanks for meeting me," I finally said, coming to a stop at the edge of the kerb, keeping the road in between us.

Charles Whitman held me in his gaze, his pale eyes full of a suspicion that I was surprised to see and I realised then that he was doing the same as me, weighing up the situation, trying to discern whether I was to be trusted.

"Have you come alone?" He said, his attention momentarily shifting behind me, scanning the murky depths under the railway bridge. It occurred to me then that maybe he was looking for Van and whether he thought the same as Alex had done.

I replied to him with his own question, nodding my answer as I did so, watched whilst he indicated that he was also on his own. A tense kind of stalemate then ensued, both of us wary, neither of us making a move.

Charles spoke first, pushing his glasses up his nose before his hand came to rest on his chin, stroking the stubble there. "Well... you asked me to come and meet you. Maybe you should start by telling me what the hell happened in London?"

I stiffened, feeling my gun pressing into my back, raising a hand to rest on my hip, close enough to grasp it in a flash if necessary. I ignored his question and fired off one of my own. "Why did you pull my off-duty back-up?"

Charles looked surprised, but a small smile curled his lips in barely concealed amusement. "It seems to me you're managing quite well without back-up."

"I was nearly fucking killed! It's no laughing matter!" I blurted out, stunned by his flippant reaction.

Any hint of a smile vanished instantly, replaced by his usual no-nonsense unemotional demeanour. "Oh I know, and I don't take this lightly, believe me when I say that. As director I have to make some tough calls. The agency's under a lot of pressure right now. Resources are stretched. Paul thought that taking you off the McCann case would give you a certain amount of security, so I made the decision."

I nodded slowly, not really surprised that he offered no sympathy. That was Charles all over. If the job had been done he wasn't worried about the means of execution or concern over whatever trauma might have been inflicted on me. All he cared about was results, and in this case the end product was a corpse and my heart was still beating so to him that equalled a triumph. End of story.

Charles leant back against his car, casual now like we were just two acquaintances passing the time of day. The same thin smile found its way back on to his lips as he spoke. "I must say, time and time again you impress me with your ability to get the job done, but your assailant at the hotel... I've already seen the crime scene photos. You dispatched him in a particularly... brutal fashion. There's going to have to be an inquest of course, but don't worry. You'll have my full backing."

I hadn't been able to bring myself to look at the body of my attacker before I'd left the hotel to catch my train, my already brittle state at the time barely holding it together, but Alex had filled me in when I'd called. I knew then that there were going to be difficult questions to answer. Despite my petite stature I was strong and had been trained by the best, but even so, the force it took to snap a full-grown man's neck would have been a challenge to me. That was the least concerning element though. The fact that the dead man was missing every single digit from his right hand wouldn't be quite so easy to explain away.

I straightened myself up to my full height, looking Charles straight in the eye, shrugging like I was barely affected. "He was a nasty bastard. I gave as good as I got."

As expected there was no judgement from Charles, he was straight to the point. "He appears to have been tortured... or interrogated. Tell me... what did you find out from him?"

His eyes narrowed and I knew it was pointless lying to him. Charles was shrewd and there was no pulling the wool over his eyes. And wasn't this why I'd called the meeting after all? A dangerous but necessary reaching out to someone who I hoped I could trust. What choice did I have? Walking into the agency vulnerable with no ally whatsoever was a suicide mission. I slid the hand that had been resting on my hip further back, hooked my fingers around the grip of my gun, ready to act swiftly had I made a gross error of judgement.

My thoughts went to Van and I pictured him hunched over the wheel of his car, knuckles white, speedometer pushing a perilous speed whilst he raced against the clock to get to me, but it was a race he'd never win.

Charles raised his eyebrows up, shifting where he stood, still reclined against the door of his car. The snowfall was heavy now, thick fluffy flakes laying down a carpet on the tarmac. I blinked them away when they collected on my lashes, took a deep breath before I said the words that might change everything for me.

"The organisation... they have someone in the agency. They have done for years."

Charles was still, frozen like a statue, his face not even cracking with a hint of emotion. I tensed, my fingers flexing around the cool metal, my breath fogging in frosty plumes in front of me.

An eternity seemed to pass whilst we both stood, eyes locked, the tension increasing. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, Charles to lurch for a concealed pistol maybe, or a look of horrified shock on his face. Certainly not this flat motionless stance like he was fully expecting my words. And when he did finally speak, my anxiety increased just as my grip on the gun did.

"I know..."

And then my breath was gone, snatched from my lungs in an instant whilst my mind tried to formulate my next move, my usual lightening fast actions dulled by my confusion. "But how..." was all I managed before Charles stepped forward, his hands outstretched but not in an aggressive manner.

"I've known for some time... well, I've suspected. But we can't make a move... not yet. I'm biding my time..."

My confusion was clearing now, the anger I'd felt before starting to trickle back. I released my grip on the gun, stepping forward into the road. "Biding your time? People are dying! How do you know? How long have you known? Do you know who it is?"

Charles sighed, dropping his head down slightly, a grimace twisting his features. "This is top level security clearance."

"Fuck security clearance!" I shouted, my voice bouncing off the underside of the bridge and ricocheting off the derelict buildings all around. "I have a right to know! This person... this... piece of shit... they betrayed my dad. I'm sure of it. I just know it. What are you waiting for?"

A flicker of something crossed Charles' face but then it was gone and he moved forward towards me, looming over me but not aggressively so. "It's not that simple. We can't move in yet. We need to wait for the right moment."

"Simon died! Scott died! How many more people before you move in? How many?" I fired the names at him to try and provoke a reaction. The anger and injustice was smouldering inside me, red hot lava looking for an escape. Years of frustration at not knowing and now the truth was close, tantalising so but being withheld. "You know who it is don't you? You fucking know! Give me a name... please!"

Charles' usual neutral countenance was strained, the burden of lives lost heavy even though he tried not to show it. He looked down at the fallen snow, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut for a moment, but then his head was up, looking at me, sorrow mixed with something else that I couldn't place.

And that's when I knew. The fears that I'd had all along confirmed before the name had even left his lips. So I spoke it instead, and it caught in my throat like it was barbed.

"Paul... it's Paul isn't it?"

"I'm sorry Lyla. It certainly seems that way from the intel we have."

The knife that had been poised above my heart slid straight in, an anguish so deep I cried out. But the pain of betrayal turned swiftly to anger, so raw that it felt like another entity in my body, a part of me tearing away, lost to all rational thought. I wanted to scream and shout until my lungs were on fire. I wanted to rip and gouge and break and shatter. I wanted him dead... and I wanted to be the one to do it.

I went to push past Charles, making a grab for the door handle of his car but he blocked me and I practically bounced off his solid frame. I looked up, brushing my hair back which was now laden with fallen snow. "We need to go back to the agency. We can't let him get away with this. We have to go NOW!"

I was feeling energised, focussed, sharper than ever, the need to see justice done overpowering all other thoughts. Charles stepped aside and let me fling the passenger door open. I slipped into the car immediately, let him close the door behind me whilst I sank down into the leather seat.

I could barely see Charles outside the car the way the snow was now covering the windows, but after a short pause the driver's door opened and he slid in, turning to look at me sat there beside him, simmering with my fierce determination.

"I need you to listen to me now," he said carefully, the familiar authority now returning to his voice. "I know this has come as a shock to you and you're likely feeling angry..."

A loud snort burst from me that I had no control over. "Angry? That's an understatement!"

"Just listen to me!"

"Thirteen years I've been waiting for this moment!" I cried, not listening as instructed, my rage taking over, my fists clenched, my heart racing.

Charles shot out his hand towards the dash and it landed on the surface with a sharp smack which made me recoil. "Christ sakes Lyla... listen to me goddamn it!"

I did still then, checking myself, turning to fully face Charles, his face stony, his jaw set, his eyes harsh as they bored into me.

"We are not going back to the agency. Not now. I'm taking you to a safe house. I'm not having you storming in there and blowing this whole operation! There's so much more at stake here than you avenging your bloody father!"

His last line was spat with enough force to make me flinch, and I knew then that arguing was futile. And in any case Charles had already fired up the engine, swinging the car around in a wide arc as he manoeuvred ready to turn around and drive away. I was thrown forward in the seat and reached up to grab the seatbelt.

"Sir... please... you don't understand..."

My words trailed off as my phone vibrated for the first time since Charles had showed up. This time I reached around into my pocket, shifting forward in my seat, surreptitiously checking the screen even though Charles's eyes were fixed firmly on the road. He was too busy chuntering about the weather, ignoring my objections whilst he opened his driver's seat window to knock the snow off that had gathered there.

It was Van.

Christ, how I needed him now. I stared helplessly at the screen, my heart tormented knowing he was on the other end of the line and I couldn't connect to him. So near yet so far at the same time.

And then before I could react, Charles grabbed my phone in one swift movement and I gasped, watching on in abject horror as he tossed it through the open window like it was a piece of rubbish.

"What the fuck?" I shouted, scrabbling at the door handle to find that I couldn't open it. "STOP! Stop the fucking car!"

Charles just grunted in frustration, accelerating even faster as we gunned out of the junction at the end of the road.

"Fucking hell... don't you know that anyone can track your phone? This is agency 101 stuff. Have you forgotten your training? I said I was taking you to a safe house. You won't need it."

And that was it. My hopes of contacting Van shattered just like my phone left on the road in pieces behind.

[chattegeorgiana]

Hello Chatte,

How have you been doing?

I have this thing that's been pestering me for a while now. A lot of NH defenders/shippers swear on their life that there are strong parallels between her and Kushina and it's a hill these people are willing to die on.

They love to cite examples from that god forsaken series called Boruto, where they have comical moments of Hinata being the ''scary mommy'' trope and a ''hot headed wife'' just like Kushina. This doesn't sit well with me and I just see it as SP being SP, nothing more, nothing less; and for the NH fan to be like ''ohh..... look...... there are so many parallels between MK and NH. NH was planned from the beginning. yay...... '' Those sorta BS (pardon me my French).

Also, I'd like to point out that I'm an anti ender not because of the pairing reasons but because of how the ending happened. All thanks to each and every character being nothing more than a pairing fodder, the show has left many debates as to what it's messages and themes are.

I really have zero reasons to like female characters like Sakura and Hinata but this, this is beyond character assassination and also an insult to the fan base, especially those who gave common sense and aren't blinded by pairing choice. For me how the characters are treated is way more important than shipping.

Also, when is your next YT video on Boruto being Oro's genjutsu gonna be released?

Thank for reading my somewhat lame and a long comment and I wish you the best with Kaika Saisei

Cheers!

Hi there,

Well, for the whole NH thing, the reason why they insist is because the sequel did a 180 and changed her characteristics, so ofc they are willing to die on that hill.

But we all know if we look at the actual content from the manga that she has nothing in common with Kushina nor Minato like they like to say. Kushina is loud and passionate. Where have you seen Hinata display those qualities? Whereas Minato is calm & calculated, something that she isn't once again. She's quiet & shy but that doesn't equate the calmness Minato displays. Not to mention we've seen even in this one shot that Kishi wrote that Minato can also get super passionate from time to time, whereas Hinata has never displayed that feat.

All in all for this whole thing to work they had to turn her into Sakura. It's clear as daylight to anyone who isn't a NH. Even a neutral. So why consume your energy with what they're saying? It's not like it's true. The evidence to support that is those 15 years of serialization prior to the ending that holds all the weight.

We all know TL & the other products at the end were made so that they can retcon the pre-established narrative.

The show ending the way it did basically destroyed everything Naruto once as a story stood for. Sad, but true.

I always said I wouldn't have had any issue with the choice of pairings if done correctly. After all, I used to be a multishipper once. I saw the potential that all had in the beginning. It's just that when part 2 launched, the story was clear of its direction - of course, until they decided to retcon again and to hell with everything.

And sadly, the girls got the short end of the stick. Both Hinata & Sakura, if we're being true to ourselves. But these people are ready to die on a hill just because they're so attached to their opinions rather than seeing the story for what it is - a great emotional impact story, but with a lot of issues underneath it if you put aside the emotional impact.

It's the reason why it pulls so many people into it. Because it's filled with emotional manipulation, in a way. Look at the way the franchise also directs its marketing campaigns for other materials/products. They scan the internet, see what the talk is in the fandom & then bam, there they are with their products that just so happen to have the thematic of whatever talk is in the fandom - like when they are some sort of servants because at some point NH & SS were arguing about who's richer and who's the servant and who's the patron and all kind of BS like that.

Or when we in the NaruSaku fandom had an extensive talk about tarot and the symbolism that surrounds NS and 6 months later bam, there they are with products with tarot themes.

Or that game they have and I saw two of the concepts I had for Sakura combined into a third one.

They basically combined these two artwork concepts into the third one that is their image from the game.

So what can I say? As you can see, Pierrot be doing whatever it is to get their way, lol.

If you think about the girls - when they thought Hinata was more profitable, they pushed her in everybody's face so much so that it affected the story's ending.

Now that Sakura's more profitable, they discarded Hinata like a used toy and she barely makes any appearances outside her mom-like persona.

This only shows anyone with a little critical thinking that SP has no respect for any characters nor the story. It's just about the $$$ and that's it. Nothing more, nothing less.

But meh, anyway, at this point is more than funny lol. It's just Pierrot being Pierrot tbh... Nothing good can be expected of that studio.

As for my next video, I'm planning on getting back to work on these somewhere in March.

Last year I've been caught up with a major life event so it really hindered my capacity to take care of everything that I wanted to do, but as I said, I'm planning on getting back to these.

It's just that I'll need to edit some things since I initially envisioned it in a certain way and there are certain changes that happened in the meantime, that kind of rendered some of the things I worked on obsolete, so I'm trying to adjust to that. But yeah, as soon as I have everything up and running again, I'll definitely start working on it.

And aah dear, don't worry, your question was not lame! Thank you for dropping into my inbox and for your wishes regarding Kaika!

[namorslutfanfiction]

BELOW IS A VERY INFORMATIVE SUBMOSSION FROM AN ANON ABOUT MARIA ELENA RIOS WITH RESEARCH AND CITATIONS REGARDING HER PAST ISSUES.

These occurances, along with her late statement and its contents, have led myself and many others to voice our continued support of Tenoch Huerta.

—-----—-‐-------‐–—

I know a lot of you are using Google Translate, so I guess I could help by breaking down the accusations and kind of giving you a timeline I guess?

June, 2012

This happened in Huajuapan de León, Oaxaca (Where she's from)

She and her sister (Silvia Ríos Ortiz) were accused of forced entry and injuries against the victim.

The victim says she was resting in her house and Maria Elena was yelling outside her house "hija de tu puta madre sal de tu casa" (which I roughly translate as 'motherfucker get out of your house')

The victim didn't pay attention to it. María Elena entered her house, grabbed her by the hair and yelled at her sister to enter the house so they both could hit the victim.

Silvia (Maria Elena's sister) entered the house. They both grabbed her by the hair and pushed her against the wall, making her hit her head with it.

Then, the victim says she looked up and Maria Elena had a knife (she describes it as saw knife), which she used to cut the victim's left knee open (she adds it was 20 centimeters/around 8 inch).

Then, the document gets cut.

There's also a witness testimony (it also gets cut)

In Brenda Solano's article, it's added that her mom was also there and they cut the woman with pocket knives and scissors on her face, crotch and face. All of this because she allegedly was Maria Elena's dad's lover.

September, 2012

This one doesn't involve Maria Elena, but I guess is relevant to understand how her family operated around Oaxaca.

This happened in a elementary school in Huajuapan de León, Oxaca

Basically her sister Silvia Rios Ortiz and I guess their relative, Mary Carmen Ortiz Martinez approached a woman when she was dropping her kids' lunch. They yelled insults, threatened and followe her because she allegedly had an affair with Mary's husband.

The victim asked them not to "fix their problem" there because of her kids and also her brother (who has down syndrome and couldn't understand what was going on) but the two women insisted. She had to hide.

It gets cut.

Scanned documents can be found here (x)

2015

Maria Elena's brother is accused of murder. The documents are avaible here -the last ones- (x).

This is important because the Frente Nacional Indígena y Campesino (FNIC) got involved. It roughly translates to National Indigenous and Peasant Front. Basically, poor and indigenous people came together to ask for justice in this case. They had to protest to get Carlos Ríos Ortiz to go through trial.

The FNIC's representative said that they were worried about this process because "they didn't want him to get out of jail" because "he has links with politicians and people in power". (You can see a picture of the protests in this note ).

This is hearsey but the comments call him a "priista" (supporter of the PRI political party in Mexico).

Allegedly, in Brenda Solano's article, we read he actually got help from Silvia Rios' partner, Hugo Jairo Hernandez (PRI) and Maria Elena's boyfriend at the time (who was the son of the city hall president, José Feria Rodriguez -PUP-) and their political links.

2022 (Post attack)

Silvia's sister appears on Alejandro Murat's (PRI) payroll (proof here). She's linked with the word "saxophonist". If true, she was receiving around 995,000 usd yearly.

2023

Maria Elena has been accused by Maribel Perez (her attacker's lawyer) for threats. Maria Elena's tweets were quoted as proof and also the people that have approached the victim have said things like "I hope you get acid thrown at you", "You're a bitch for defending that son of a bitch", "Stop revictimizing Maria Elena", "I hope it [acid attack] happens to you", "How can you not be more empathic with other women", "You, a woman, are Maria Elena's biggest enemy". (You can see the documents of this complaint here)(You can see tweets here, here). Maribel has also stated that Maria Elena has threatened her staff (proof here)

Not directly related to Maria Elena, but I think it's also important to know that Maribel Perez has also reported on being approached on a parking lot by two women in a car. They prevented her from leaving and told her they knew "she's Vera Carrizal's lawyer" and because of that they would throw acid at her, so she could "learn her lesson" (note here). Then they followed her.

Brenda Solano, an independent journalist, and the news outlet she writes to (Pajaros en el Alambre de Oaxaca) have accused Maria Elena of threatining her because she realised an article about the things I have commented on here. She also went all the way to Oaxaca to investigate.

Apart from this, some other things I think are worth mentioning and have resurfaced:

Maria Elena's dad and granddad were linked to stealing cars, drug trafficking and selling guns in Brenda Solano's article. (Note: She doesn't show proof, but she mentions a man who told this to the police and then was murdered back in 1998).

Maria Elena and her sister tried to deface a woman, who didn't speak to Brenda because she's scared of retaliation.

Maria Elena and her sister registered a kid twice (proof) and are being investigated by the FBI for falsifying documents. Silvia Ríos used the document to demand child support from her former partner, Hugo Jairo Hernández Sánchez (PRI). News outlets report this happened when Hernández was working on his campaign to run as president of the city hall. The man was a rent collector and close to Ulises Ruiz Ortiz (PRI), who's being accused of corruption (he's described as known for his "political vindictiveness").

An audio of Maria Elena has resurfaced. In it, she says "I'm going to kill myself because of you and it's going to be your fucking fault and you're going to carry it for the rest of your life!". (Note: We can't say for sure it's her, but if a newsmedia is risking to be accused by her, I'd say they're pretty sure about it).

She has been accused of being linked to the PAN political party because of her connection with Aurora Sierra (video here). She also gave an statement supported by PRI, PRD and PAN (video here).

Pajaros en el Alambre said back in february she's being prepared to be a representative candidate by the PRI-PAN-PRD-MC (x, x, x). In the screenshots I quoted, they basically say how her attack has been used as a way to gain sympathy by different political movements, and how the people who have spoken in her favor have been really corrupt in the past.

Her ex-partner (who is accused of the acid attack) was a PRI politician.

(Note. PRI, PRD and PAN are against Morena (AMLO/Mexico's president political party). Not implying anything but Tenoch had to take legal action due to people attacking him after his meeting with AMLO (People were doxxing his daughters and family and trying to mess with his career and intimacy)......... Not implying anything. Just food for thought.)

It's a lot, but I hope it helps to grasp the debacle around her. I'd post it myself but I'm too shy and tbh this has been a lot for me, I don't think I can handle rude anons. I just made the effort because I feel like I can contribute in that way.

[deedah]

”Moments..”

[G-O]=True]

This fanfic was a request from

Don’t read if you don’t care bout it :3

⚠️⚠️WARNINGS-⚠️⚠️

-clingyness

-fluff

-fluster 

*this takes place after ep. 8 btw*

SD G-O and X belong to- @glorious-owl

SD F belongs to me- @deedah

    G-O circled their claws around a frozen lamppost as they hung from it upside down while its light flickered. G-O looked back behind them to see their bestie X running up and standing right below them.

    “Gurl..” X started as she put her hands on her knees as she lowered her head to catch her breath before she looked back up at G-O.

    “I’ve told you not to run off from me like that..!” C said as she leaned on the light post now.

    “Oh you’ll be fine” G-O argued as they pointed behind them. “And plus, I left you back there with F.” Once they said that, X and G-O saw a short yellow eyed Disassembly slowly fly up.

    “Yeah..” F started as she landed and her wings went inside her body and as she pointed her yellow stinger towards G-O, “And I’m not happy you left me behind like that, idiot.” 

   “You’ll also be fine, Faith.” G-O commented as she scanned the area for any oil they could bring to their pod. “You had X..” she said before she lunged herself upright and glided to an area where she started to dig with one of her clawed hands.

    She found an arm and a head full of oil, and as they picked it up and turned back around to face the others, F had saluted X ‘goodbye’ as she spread her wings and took off into the sky.

    G-O walked up to C, “Where is she going?” She asked as X turned to her.

    “She said something bout JC being worried where she was this close to dawn.” X said as she turned to look at the sun that was about to pass over the snow.

    “Wanna head to my pod? We better get out of the sun quickly” X suggested as G-O nodded.

    Both the drones took off into the sky as they glided towards a spire with a gray pod inside. They walked inside and put the dead worker’s oil into cups before sitting down on X’s couch. They were sitting pretty close, almost touching but not fully.

    They had turned on some old human cooking show. Both G-O and X watched two edi poses before G-O started to doze off into Sleep Mode, until she felt a thump hit her body.

    G-O looked up to see X had completely laid her head on top of G-O’s chest. 

    “Umm..” G-O said as she poked X, “Excuse me..?” G-O knew that X’s love language with her friends was touch, but wasn’t this a bit.. far..?

    “Ye?” X answered as she started a game of Tetris on her visor.

    “Oh.. so you're just going to ignore me..? K” G-O answered her own question as X shot up. X thought for a second as she tried to push out words that never came out, until she just spread her arms and wrapped G-O into a hug.

    “X!” G-O yelled as she got slung into a tight bear hug by her friend.

    “HUG TIMMEE!!!” X yelled as she squeezed harder and started to say back and forth.

    G-O managed to finally push X away. She held her by her hand on X’s head like a todler as X reached her arms out and tried to push against G-O.

    “Come on~!” X teased G-O, “You know you.. Want it..!!” X pushed out as G-O quickly moved her hand and X fell onto G-O’s lap.

    X looked up at G-O who looked to be towering over her.

    “You done?” G-O asked as X shook her head.

    Most of the morning was full of fights and teasing from the two until G-O finally got X calmed down as they laid on G-O’s shoulder while being in sleep mode.

    G-O turned to X as she watched their shoulders go up and down simultaneously.

    Moments.. G-O thought. Moments like these I wish we had more often..

[@glorious-owl, I’m sorry this took so long to make, again, life been kicking me in the butt recently]=True