#it's actually not that deep and none of this matters . i just love talking about gender it's my favorite thing

[justinefrischmanngf]

I AM LOSING MY MIND WITH STRESS I HATE BEING AN ADULT WHO HAS A JOB THAT MEANS I NEED TO SOCIALISE I CAN'T DO THIS I SHOULD HAVE SAID NO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ok i'm normal now

[kissedaconstellation]

(this is long and rambly but if you're going to read it at all, please for the love of god read the whole thing, i want to make a point + no hate to op im just autistic and i get passionate about little details. this is a fun topic to talk about for me !! :3 )

this post is insane for so many reasons but let me start with this:

to preface - men can be lesbians, obviously. we're all gender abolitionists here, we all know the binary is fake and oppressive. be who you want, identity how you want, fuck whichever consenting adult you'd like. i'll talk about the important stuff in a second.

where i take issue with this post is the idea that Trans men can be lesbians and cis men can't, reason being that they are INHERENTLY different.

op is right in the fact that the binary was not made with trans people in mind. the binary was not made with a LOT of things in mind. women wearing pants? never heard of it. stay at home dads??? what is this, fantasy land?

but the binary was Made. it was socially constructed, a very very very long time ago. it is not inherent; it is very subjective and things change.

in a lot of countries, women wearing pants is more common than them wearing dresses. stay at home dads are becoming more and more socially accepted, and even praised. the binary has shifted.

even the trans experience has not always been one that is out of the binary. so many cultures HAVE made space for trans identities in their gender roles. as an indigenous person, if i existed at the same time as my more distant ancestors, my experience would NOT have been out of the binary, because the binary didn't exist in the same way.

right now, trans people do not fit within the binary. but a lot of them would like to. a lot of trans people choose to be stealth, to present in a binary way, and identity as "binary trans man" or "binary trans woman."

(i hope that, one day, the binary won't exist at all. but it's a process, and before that happens, it will probably include trans people for a little bit. just my prediction. point is -)

the binary isn't Inherent. nothing that is socially constructed is inherent. it will change over time, and it may not exist a thousand years from now. right now, trans people are, categorically, non-binary. but not Inherently.

so who's to say that we are Inherently different? that trans men are inherently different from cis men?because of our bodies? because of literally what's in our pants? you fr have to be joking, that's an INSANE thing to say

i am a trans man who likes women in a gay way. very wlw but he/him. i present VERY feminine. i look like a woman and i get treated as a woman by everyone that i haven't come out to. sometimes, i feel pretty fuckin feminine. i get "omg i look so girl rn ehehehe" gender euphoria a lot.

i do not relate very much to trans men who pass, trans men who get treated as men by the people in their day to day life and live the male social role. we are both trans, but we are VERY different, in very important ways. nothing about us is inherently the same, except for our bodies (even then, im pre- any type of surgery, so our bodies could be VERY different).

i DO, however, relate to a lot of feminine cis men. i came out very young and i immediately went stealth, so i lived the male social role during a very developmentally crucial period of my life. i was kind of forced to live that role, since it was the only way id be accepted for my male identity. if i acted or presented feminine, id be seen as less of a man.

this is an experience that a lot of feminine men have, both trans and cis. it's a non-binary experience that we both share.

i relate to the experience of having to discover your non-traditional femininity and only being able to connect to it as an adult because of queer-phobia. not every trans man does. some cis men do.

i relate to the experience of growing out my hair to feel more like myself, experimenting with hair clips and braids, trying out jewelry. i relate to the experience of being told that i'm not a real man because i enjoy these things. i relate to having to compromise on presenting how i want to and being treated how i deserve. not every trans man does. some cis men do.

and TO BE HONEST !!! i relate to liking women in a gay way. not every trans man does. some cis men might. who's to say they do or do not? who's to say what gay even is, man, it's all socially constructed. it's all language choices, and language/definitions change over time.

and what tf even is gender, if not a vague amalgamation of our experiences, inner identities, outer presentation, and a little bit of god knows what? gender is a lot of things, and none of those things are inherent.

"a trans man identifying as a lesbian is not the same as a cis man identifying as a lesbian" why? because of our bodies? because of our shape? sure as hell isn't anything inherent, because of everything previously stated.

just say you don't like cis people and don't want to relate to them, that's fine, that's totally allowed. but don't pretend it's because there's just something about us that will never allow us to be the same.

TLDR, because this is a long one: cis people can be non-binary. any man can be a lesbian. labels are fake and do what you want + ratio + it's not that deep man

why do you identify with "lesbian" if you say you're a man. A man can't be a lesbian, i don't understand it.

The whole lesbian concept excludes men bc it has nothing to do with men. Lesbian is women loving women, and if you identify as a man, i don't understand how you can identify w the lesbian community as well.

like this isba genuine question, I'd like to listen to your explanation bc im genuinely confused!

trans men, and any trans person really, cannot exist on the same binary cisgender people exist on. the binary was not made with trans people in mind, to be trans and to change your sex (which isnt limited to bottom surgery btw), would be inherently nonbinary, simply because the binary does not accommodate for trans people

beyond that, trans men dont have the same rights privileges and power that a cis man would have. meaning that while a trans man IS a man, he is not a cis man, and thus cannot experience male privilege, or the systemic power that comes with being a cis man

so we can conclude from that two things. one, trans people are inherently nonbinary. while not every trans person identified as nonbinary, the act of transitioning, socially and medically, is an inherently nonbinary act. i personally choose to identify as nonbinary to deal with the distress of people forcing me into the cis man category when i am fundementally different from them. now that we have concluded that the act of transitioning is nonbinary, let me address that: trans men have always been included in lesbianism. the communities are not seperate. the historical definition of lesbian has included gender diverse people as well as women, and trans men are still gender diverse

beyond that; a trans man identifying as a lesbian is not the same as a cis man identifying as a lesbian. the ideas that trans men are men and that trans men are NOT cis men can both be true. trans men who are attracted to women have more societally in common with lesbians (especially genderqueer lesbians) than cishet men. yes, trans men identify as straight all the time. however, if a trans man wants to identify as a lesbian, who are we to deny him? he isnt a cis man, hes not a threat to lesbianism or to the queer community.

faq:

"wouldnt identifying as a lesbian and a trans man be invalidating?"

a: different trans men have different opinions for themselves and their gender. some trans men choose to identify as straight/heterosexual, some trans men choose to identify as lesbians. it just depends on the person, however, if a trans man truly felt invalidated by the lesbian label, he just wouldn't use it. you dont get to assign rules on how a trans man chooses to identify, and you don't know him better than he knows himself

"what IS a lesbian then?"

a: the historical defintion of a lesbian is any gender diverse individual who likes women and/or gender diverse people. however, every lesbian can tell you something different. i know lesbians who only date binary women. i know lesbians who are exclusively t4t. i know lesbians who are femme4butch and date trans men who are butches. someones personal definition of their own lesbianism doesnt invalidate yours, and vice versa

"whats next, a CIS man identifying as a lesbian to cause trouble?"

a: and what if the world was made of pudding? trans men are not cis men, and to believe such is wishful thinking at best, and ultimately distressing to trans people. beyond that, i raise a counterargument of, what if we let trans people use the bathroom of their preferred gender? what would happen if a cis person used the opposite genders bathroom to cause trouble? the fact of the matter is, punishing trans people who are trying to live for the hypothetical cis person doing something wrong is transphobic and also stupid

"evan, i dont WANT to date a male lesbian/lesbian on t! what does this mean for my lesbianism?"

a: absolutely nothing! date who you want! you actually dont have to be attracted to every single person who is a lesbian! i know im not! youre allowed your preferences. i do know for a fact that some lesbians, especially under the trans/genderqueer umbrella are really into trans male lesbians and lesbians on t, but that does NOT mean that you have to be! once again, nobody elses personal definition of lesbianism can invalidate YOUR personal definition of lesbianism. im ALL ABOUT doing what you want!

[lubdubology]

Til The Sun Turns Black

SYNOPSIS: Your soul is bound to his and you're destined to follow him across the multiverse. When the TVA finds you and sends you to the Void, you feel your chance of finding him has slipped through your fingers. But what you find there is more than you bargained for.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader

WC: 13.1 k I apologize for nothing

WARNINGS: smut 18+, mdni, mentions of drinking, angst, peril, some fluff, implied age gap (I guess?), mental trauma, miscommunication, Wade being Wade, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cowgirl, missionary, cock warming, sex with feelings, unprotected p in v

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on Soft Edges! I was not expecting that kind of response when I posted that story, so thank you <3. I had the idea for this story in my head since after I first saw the movie. I had no idea my one random runaway thought would turn into this. Also, this story would not have been finished if it weren't for @joelsgoldrush. She let me tease her for WEEKS with this and act as the ultimate sounding board. And she's overall just a delightful human being and I'm so glad I've found her.

The TVA agent sits staring at you, an odd and uncomfortable smile on his face. Like he isn’t quite sure he knows how to smile but had seen it once on TV.  You also don’t think he’s blinked in the past several minutes. It makes your eyes water just thinking about it. 

“I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Ah, yes, well—“ the agent clears his throat and smoothes a hand down his chest. “You’re a threat to the multiverse.”

You squint your eyes at him and wonder if you’re lucid dreaming. Or trapped in some bizarre fever dream, but you can’t remember being sick. “The…multiverse? As in, more than one universe?”

He nods once. “Precisely.”

It’s your turn to stare as absolutely none of this is making sense. The morning had started off normal—wake up, shower, coffee at your favorite local corner store. You had barely finished your latte when you were apprehended and taken to this bland room by a man who must own insane stock in eyedrops. 

“You see, we’ve been watching you for quite some time,” he continues, oblivious of your growing confusion. “A handful of reincarnations, actually. And we believe we’ve finally pinned it down.”

His words sound insane. 

You were a low level mutant at best. You’ve been able to deeply sense and influence emotions in others since you were six—a standard empath if there ever was one. But reincarnation?

“Reincarnations? I’m sorry but—”

You feel it coming then, that all too familiar prickle of deja vu creeping up your spine and setting deep in your brain. The room begins to soften, the corners blurring and you feel disjointed, separate from the you sitting in the chair.

“Ah, see. We’ve pinned it down.”

The world tilts on its axis and your mind explodes into brilliance, the memories of hundreds of alternate versions of yourself firing down your synapses, leaving you as raw and exposed as a fresh wound. The pain is all consuming as you gasp for air and desperately try to quell the throbbing in your skull. 

Your hands grip the edge of the table, desperate to clutch at something solid to root you in reality as the kaleidoscope of memories swirl before your eyes, colliding and merging with one another. All the timelines converging down to a single point of existence within your mind. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve experienced this process, the return of your memories—the return of your consciousness—was always accompanied by a torturous sensory overload. 

“You see? You have extensive knowledge of the multiverse. And that kind of knowledge is coveted and dangerous.”

Your vision blurs as the memories keep slamming into you and you can’t help the primal scream that rips from your lungs, the pain in your throat a welcome distraction from the torture in your head. And then, amid the chaos, a single figure emerges in crisp focus, a face you’ve seen thousands of times.

“Logan.” His name comes out in a whisper, your voice trembling.

You know he’s not actually in front of you and instead a mirage, a figment of your overloaded neurons, but his presence calms you. 

“Yes, Logan. You two are quite fond of each other.” The agent stands and you squint up at him, wanting to be anywhere else as you regain your memories. “But never mind him. We can’t have you traipsing around with all that knowledge in your head.”

“No, no, no, please. Please just let me find him,” you beg, hating the desperation laced in your voice. 

The last thing you see before being sent out of existence is his creepy, uncanny smile. 

+++

The Void was bullshit. 

It had been a month since you were unceremoniously dumped here. 

Maybe. 

You weren’t really sure.  

Time had no meaning, each day seeming to stretch on for eons and simultaneously in the blink of an eye. And for every single one of those moments you’d been focused on one of two things: finding a way out and not dying. 

You quickly learned you had a better chance at survival if you stuck to the outskirts and avoided others. So you squirreled yourself away, sheltering in an abandoned cabin and hoping beyond hope you could figure out a way out of the desolate cesspool you found yourself in. 

Figure out a way back to him. 

Back home. 

+++

You don’t venture out unless you have to. 

The Void is full of phantom emotions left behind by its previous inhabitants and the cacophony overwhelms you. Rage, terror and despair so thickly envelope every surface you feel like you’re choking. It’s beginning to wear so harshly on your nerves you wonder if you might actually go insane here.

There was a tension growing in the Void. You’d heard whispers of unrest within the factions, Cassandra hungry for something to sink her teeth into. The undercurrent of rage has increased in the last couple of days and it’s enough to set your teeth on edge.

Stuffing a backpack with a few essentials in case you get stranded, you ready yourself for a supply run. The thought of leaving the perceived safety of your cabin has little appeal, but you’ve been putting it off for far too long. There was a small cache only a few miles from your cabin that other survivors kept stocked with extra provincials. You were hoping for something good, anything other can canned food or cereal. Or Spam. 

Tightening the straps on your backpack, you take one last glance around before stepping out into the forest. It’s eerily quiet, no birds or animals chattering to fill the silence, just the crunch of your shoes against fallen leaves. The Void has always felt oppressive to you, the air just a little too heavy, but there’s something lingering today that makes you feel on edge. Your skin prickles with anticipation and you pat your belt for the knife you’ve stashed there. 

Just in case. 

You’re half a mile away from the cache when you feel it—the inky slick of anger. It catches on the air and wafts towards you in waves. You slow your steps as you approach the road and come to a halt when the battered van comes into view. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. 

You’d recognize those claw marks anywhere. 

Your heart races as your eyes trace the deep, jagged cuts gouged into the metal and the large swathes of blood coating the ground and what you can see of the interior of the van. Instinctively your hand tightens around the hilt of your knife and you crouch down low behind a fallen log. You scan the area for any signs of movement and find none, but you know Logan is stealthier than you and wouldn’t give up his location willingly. 

The van door creaks open on its battered hinges and you inhale sharply as Logan stumbles out of the vehicle covered in dried blood and sweat and more knife wounds and bullet holes than you can count. 

The sight of him ignites a spark of longing that blooms in your chest and makes you physically ache. You can feel him. Your lips remember the hungered warmth of his mouth against yours, the way he’d nip at your bottom lip so you’d open up for him. Your skin remembers the calloused rasp of his hands and not just the greedy grabs when he needed to claim you, but the light brushes of his fingertips against your palm as he held your hand, just to remind himself that you were real. Your nose remembers his scent, woodsy and clean, like the earth after rain. 

Shaking your head, you push down the memories and peer back over the log. A slight breeze wafts through the air and you watch as he sniffs, his head turning in your direction. 

“Fuck,” you curse lowly, trying to crouch further out of eyesight. 

You hear the metallic snikt of his claws and your pulse quickens. There’s no point in hiding—he knows you’re there. You take a slow, steady breath before attempting to focus waves of calm in his direction, hoping to ease some of the anger wound around him. 

His eyes lock onto yours, sharp and predatory and he shakes his head, trying to keep you out. “Who the fuck’re you?” 

You draw back your power and raise your hands in surrender as you slowly rise to your feet. You toss out your name and silently hope for a spark of recognition. But he doesn’t know you. Not yet. 

“It’s not safe out here alone,” you start, moving out of your hiding place. You walk towards him, his eyes following your every move. “There’s a cache just up ahead—” 

The atmosphere shifts without warning, the anger you’d felt previously now melting into thick, cloying fear and desperation. You can taste the ozone and the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end as electricity sizzles across the sky. Glancing up, you see the dark, swirling mass of Alioth just beginning to form. 

You look at Logan, panic racing along your nerves. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but I know you, Logan, and right now I need you to trust me.” 

Alioth’s presence is getting stronger and drawing closer, and every drop of tension and rage swirling within is beginning to weigh down on you, threatening to suffocate you. 

Logan’s eyes narrow, but there’s a slight twitch in his jaw and you know he’s considering your words. His claws retract, but his muscles remain tense, coiled and ready to attack. You grab for his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin and the hard muscle beneath your fingers. “We have to go. Now.”

For a moment, you think he might resist. But then with a low curse, he follows you, his stride matching yours as you lead him towards the cache. The trees blur by, the wind picking up and beginning to toss leaves and loose branches into the air. 

You’re operating on pure adrenaline and your heart pounds in your chest as you run, Alioth gaining speed and distance faster than either of you can move. Each gasp of air burns your lungs and your muscles ache with the effort of your sprint. 

Still a quarter of a mile away from the cache, you know you won’t be able to outrun Alioth. The storm has consumed the sky, the sun diminished to twilight, as the thunder and groans loom ever closer. You turn towards Logan and yell, “It’s too close, we’re not gonna make it!”

Logan’s eyes flash with anger as you stop and turn towards the oncoming destruction. He grabs for your wrist, pulling you almost nose to nose. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls, chest heaving with the effort to breathe. “We can’t stop!”

His proximity briefly disarms you, his fierce gaze igniting something deep within you, but you don’t have time to dwell on those emotions. You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your nerves. “I’m gonna try and calm it down.”

“What are you going to do, think happy thoughts at it?” he asks, his tone biting and sarcastic. 

You know every cell in his body is begging to fight, aching to release his claws and tear Alioth apart with his bare hands. But this isn’t something brute strength can subdue. 

“Just trust me,” you plead, your eyes searching his for some indication that he believes you. “Please.”

His stare is hard, but eventually his eyes soften and he loosens his grip on your wrist. “Fine.”

Tearing your gaze from him, you turn back towards the storm, now a full blown maelstrom of anger and destruction hellbent on consuming you both whole. You exhale slowly, pushing your own emotions of fear and panic as far down as you can. Instead, you turn inward and concentrate on every feeling of peace, calm and stillness you’ve ever experienced and project it outwards. Waves of soothing energy pour from you, an almost ghostly aura emanating from you as your power continues to grow. Alioth continues to surge towards you, the wind now flattening trees to the ground and lifting debris high into the air. 

The fight is excruciating, every cell in your body shaking with effort as you continue to project outwards, the sphere of your influence growing. When the two opposing masses collide, you’re almost knocked off your feet by the force. You’re vaguely aware of Logan beside you, claws unsheathing as he steps closer into your protective shield. 

For a brief moment, you feel the power of the storm ebb before it seems to press into you harder. Your knees begin to buckle and your stance slips. “I…I don’t know if I can hold it!” you gasp. 

Logan doesn’t run but instead moves closer, giving you one solitary nod. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, feel the doubt swirling behind them and yet he stays besides you, ready to fight. 

His silent encouragement is enough. 

You are not dying in the fucking Void. 

Gritting your teeth, you continue to push. A guttural scream rips from your throat as black spots dot your vision and blood drips from your nose. You dig down, channeling every last drop of your energy into a final wave, extending yourself deep within the core of the storm. 

The black of the storm begins to retreat and the wind begins to calm. As the first few beams of sunlight filter in through the treetops, your vision fades completely and the world goes black. 

The last thing you feel is a pair of strong arms wrapping around you before your mind goes blissfully blank and unconsciousness claims you. 

+++

You wake up in the cache. 

Dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming in through the broken windows. The light is soft, definitely not the early morning glow from before you left the comfort of your cabin and you wonder how long you were out. With a groan, you try to sit up. Your body is stiff, every muscle in your body aching with the effort you took to banish Alioth. Wincing, you swing your legs out of the makeshift bed, the effort taking your breath away and you can feel the sickly creep of nausea climb up your throat. 

A low voice cuts through the haze. “Take it easy.”

Logan. 

You blink, trying to adjust your eyes to the light and find him sitting on the floor, one leg pulled up to his chest as a bottle of whiskey hangs between his fingers. He takes a long pull and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“How long was I out?” you ask, your voice hoarse. 

Logan doesn’t answer immediately. He reaches over at a box beside him and then rolls a water bottle towards your feet before he finally mutters, “A day.” 

You accept the bottle with a nod of thanks. Taking a slow sip, you close your eyes as the liquid soothes your throat even as your body protests the movement. You’ve never used your powers to that degree before. Fuck, you didn’t even know you could. A perverse sense of pride licks at the edge of your exhaustion. 

Lowering the bottle, you breathe deeply in an attempt to settle the nausea rolling in the pit of your stomach. You glance at Logan and find him watching you, his eyes sharp, calculating. 

“You owe me some answers. You said you knew me.”

You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. After hundreds of encounters with different Logans, it was never easy explaining to him what you were. For a long time, you didn’t even have a name for it. All you knew was that your consciousness, all your memories, everything that you are moves across different universes and inevitably crosses paths with Logan. It always felt like an invisible string, guiding your soul to his. 

“I’m a temporal nomad.”

Logan’s eyes narrow as he glares at you. “A temporal what?” His tone is laced with skepticism. 

You take another sip of water, giving yourself time to gather your thoughts and push away the throbbing at your temples. “A temporal nomad. I don’t die, not in the way you think, anyway.”

Logan doesn’t move, but you see his grip tighten on the bottle in his hand, his knuckles going white. “You tellin’ me you’re immortal?”

“No, not immortal,” you reply, exhaling slowly. “When I die, my consciousness moves. I reincarnate in a different universe. Eventually I regain everything—my experiences, my memories, my feelings. It’s why—” you pause and take a deep, steadying breath. “It’s why I always find you.”

Your words hit their mark and Logan’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher—shock, disbelief, maybe some anger. He sits up straighter, tipping the whiskey bottle to his lips without breaking eye contact. “You always find me?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. “We’ve met before?”

“I’ve lost count of how many time, actually,” you admit softly. “But in every reality, every universe, I find you. And we’re not just friends, Logan.”

Your words linger in the air between you and your heart pounds loudly in your chest. Logan stands suddenly, the now empty whiskey bottle clattering to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair before scrubbing it down his face, his jaw clenched as he paces within the small space. A mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. “This smells like bullshit, sweetheart.”

Your heart aches at his use of the word sweetheart. It’s one he’s always preferred for you, usually spoken with reverence, like a prayer falling from his lips. Except now it’s casual and cold, something with a sharp edge instead of softness. 

“I know how crazy it sounds. Believe me, Logan, it took me several lifetimes to wrap my mind around it.” You stand, your legs wobbly with the effort and you wince against the pull in your spent muscles. “But I know you.”

His expression hardens. “Yeah? Well, I don’t know you. And if you really knew me, you’d know to stay the fuck away from people like me.” Logan’s pacing grows more hurried, his hands clenching into fists. 

“I can’t,” you say softly, taking a tentative step closer towards him. “And I don’t want to. While I might not know the Logan in front of me or the nuances that make you different from the others, I know you.”

His nostrils flare and he lets out a low growl. “Stop.”

“I know the way you fight,” you continue, ignoring his warning. “I know the way you carry your pain as if no one else can possibly shoulder that weight. I know—”

“Stop!”

“—how you push people away to protect them, but that deep down you hope someone will push back. You may carry a lot of self loathing, Logan, but even you know you’re not heartless.” 

Logan’s fist slams into the wall behind him, the sound reverberating in the small room. He stands there, chest heaving, his knuckles bleeding from where they made contact with the rough wooden planks. You watch as the raw skin knits itself back together, his head hanging low. 

His jaw clenches as he wipes the blood from his hands, his breathing still ragged and posture rigid, itching for a fight. He glances over at you, his expression softer but still rough. 

“We’re done here,” he growls, but his voice soft, more broken than angry. 

Logan turns without another word and all you can do is watch him leave.

+++

You spend the rest of the morning dozing in bursts of fitful sleep, your confrontation with Logan taking its emotional toll. Your eyes burn with unshed tears and for the first time in your life, you feel as if you’re destined to wander this universe alone. 

But you can’t think about it. 

Not now. 

Ignoring the ache in your limbs, you pack up what supplies you can and ready yourself for the walk back to your cabin. The sun is a couple of hours from setting, the world bathed in golden light, when you set out. Walking down the steps, you pause at the distant crunch of boots on the gravel. You feel your pulse thrum in your chest as the sound gets closer and then he steps into view, his eyes locking onto yours. 

Logan. 

The sight of him standing there fills you with a rush of conflicting emotions. Relief, angry, anxiety and you’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak first. He looks the same—tired, disheveled, but steady and strong all the same. Neither of you moves, unspoken words hanging between you.

“I shouldn’t’ve left,” he says finally. 

For a moment you say nothing. Because it’s exactly what you want to hear from him. Except, because you’re beyond exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally, you say, “No, you fucking shouldn’t have.” 

There’s definitely more bite in your tone than you intended, but the release of some of your pent up anger feels so good you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Logan’s eyes narrow as you move past him and keep walking. “Wait, so I come back here to apologize,” he begins, following close behind you, “and now you’re gonna just walk away?”

“You know, you never even thanked me for saving your ass,” you say, side stepping a downed log. “Just started demanding answers and then tucked tail and ran when you didn’t like what I had to say.”

He grabs your wrist and you stumble into his grasp, your breath hitching in your throat as you stand almost chest to chest. “I didn’t fucking ask for any of this!”

His anger bleeds into you, curling around your skin where his fingers press into your pulse point. You feel your nostrils flare and you’re itching for something to hit as you stare up at him, his jaw clenched. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you know you need to reign in your emotions or you’ll ignite the fuse between you. 

“You think I did?” you ask, pulling your arm from his grasp. Your voice is calmer, but just as sharp. “You think I want to relive the grief of mourning you over and over while also finding something new to love about you? You think I wanted to be banished to the Void all because my soul just can’t die when I do?”

Logan’s expression softens and he scrubs a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’ve had a shitty coupla days here. And you’re saying a lot of shit I don’t understand.”

He seems weary, then, and any remaining anger you harbor towards him dies in your veins. You take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. “You don’t have to understand right now. Just—just trust me. Please?”

You hate how your voice breaks just a little.

Logan nods then, the barest tilt of his head, but it’s enough.

He continues to follow you through the woods back towards the cabin and for a while neither of you speak. It should feel awkward, especially now, but it doesn’t. You’re so used to his brand of stubbornness and reluctance to see what’s right in his face that this is the most at home you’ve felt since you got here. 

“So,” you start after a few minutes of silence, “how did you end up here?”

Logan huffs. “Some asshole in red spandex dragged me here and I said I need to help save his universe.”

“And can you?”

His step falters and you pause to look a him, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the trees. “I couldn’t save mine.” The weight of his words linger, heavy with a burden only he alone has been shouldering. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he brushes past you and keeps walking. 

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, catching up with him.

Logan growls. “No.”

“Alright, maybe later then,” you reply and he simply ignores you and keeps on walking. “Where’s this asshole friend of yours?”

“I left him tied up in the van.”

You had long passed the spot where you found Logan by the beat up van and the road was deserted. Based on the subtle smirk on his face, you figure Logan already knows that. Whatever his relationship is with the stranger, he seems somewhat happy to be rid of him and you don’t push him further. Although, you can’t help but wonder what happened to the van and whose hands it fell into. 

Logan’s gait slows as the cabin comes into view through the trees. He follows behind you as you clear the space, checking for any stragglers that may have come along while you were gone. Pushing open the door, you watch as he looks around, taking in the small space. 

“You’ve been living here?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it living, but sure,” you comment, throwing your backpack on the table as you sit down. You can’t help the groan that escapes your lips as your muscles relax. “You can stay here if you want. I didn’t just let you follow me for your sparkling personality, you know.”

Logan actually laughs at that as he sits down on the small couch. His face lightens up, eyes crinkling just a bit at the corners, and for the first time since you found him, he seems unburdened. A blossom of hope grows in your chest and you grasp onto it, holding tight to the one bit of light you’ve had in this month of darkness. 

“Thank you,” he says softly. 

You know he means for more than the offer to stay and you return his smile with one of your own. “You’re welcome.”

As the sun starts to dip below the horizon, you bring out some extra blankets and a couple of pillows and help Logan turn the couch into a makeshift bed. You turn to leave when you hear him ask, “You really find me in every universe?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds terrible.”

You give him a small smile as you lean against the doorframe to the bedroom. “Oh, it’s not all that bad. I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

+++

You wake in the middle of the night to the sound of low, panicked growls coming from across the room.

You quietly slip from the bed and tiptoe towards the couch. Logan writhes beneath the sheets, pain etched across his face as he wrestles the demons in his sleeping mind. Taking a deep breath, you center yourself and focus every fiber of your power in his direction, hoping the waves of calm can break through whatever battle he’s fighting deep in the recesses of his mind.

Logan growls deep in his throat, the sound guttural and raw, his claws unsheathing and tearing at the sheets beneath him in agitation. A fine sheen of sweat beads along his brow and pieces of hair are plastered against his damp forehead.

“Logan,” you say softly, trying to break through the fog of his nightmare. “You’re safe, Logan.”

Your powers are waning, the stress of fighting off Alioth having left you depleted. You push down the ache, the tug in your brain demanding that you draw back, and instead kneel down in front of him, trailing your fingers across his palm and over the pulse point in his wrist. He jerks at your touch, his claws coming close to your skin, but the contact is enough and you feel his pulse slow beneath your fingertips.

You continue to speak in hushed tones, your voice barely above a whisper. “There you go, Logan. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Logan’s breathing is ragged, his eyes squeezed shut. You can feel the tension in his body, his muscles rigid with the need for release. You keep your fingers against his wrist, your touch steady and calming, as you bring up your other hand to smooth the lines along his brow.

“There you go,” you continue to murmur, “Focus on my voice. Focus on my calm.”

Gradually, his growls subside and his breathing begins to even out as the nightmare loses its grip over him. His muscles lose their tension and relax and the frantic movements of his limbs subsides. With one final deep breath, he stills, his claws retracting and he settles back into a peaceful sleep.

You sit and watch him for a minute, taking in all of his features and simply admiring him for the first time since your last life with him. This Logan is different—they all are in their own way—but this one a little more than the others. He seems wearier, more worn down, his usual scowl lines etched deep. There’s an exhaustion in his eyes, too, you haven’t seen before and you wonder if this Logan actually ever rests. 

As you stand, you feel his fingers circle loosely around your wrist and give a small tug. You look down to where he’s touching you, his skin hot against yours, and you glance up to find him staring at you through half lidded eyes. 

“Stay.” It comes out in a low whisper and as you open your mouth to protest, he adds, “Please.”

You could never deny him in any universe.

The couch is barely wider than he is, yet he shifts to make a sliver of space for you to slot yourself into. It should be awkward, the way you press yourself between the couch and the solid warmth of his frame, but it’s not. You hitch your leg over his hip, forcing your legs to tangle, as you rest your head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and comforting beneath your ear and you find yourself quickly relaxing into his touch.

As you fall asleep, you feel his arm curl around you, tucking protectively against your ribs.

+++

When morning breaks, you’re alone. The warmth of his body is gone and you find yourself shivering. Pushing to sit, you wrap a blanket around yourself before standing up. 

The cabin is empty.

You try and ignore the sliver of panic that threatens to slip its way down your spine. 

Opening the front door, you pause when you find him sitting on the dilapidated porch, staring absently out at the trees. He glances up at you and watches as you sit down beside him. You hug the blanket closer around your shoulders and sit with him in silence.

You don’t mention last night.

“So,” you start, “what’s the plan?”

Logan raises his eyebrow. “You planning on stickin’ with me?”

“If you let me,” you reply with a smile.

You listen as Logan explains the events of the past couple of days, including Wade’s abduction of him from his own universe and how they both became to be bloodied and battered in the van. Your ears perk up when he mentions Paradox and returning to Wade’s universe. 

“You think he can actually get back?” you ask, willing yourself to not hold onto too much hope. 

Logan huffs. “Probably not.” 

“And yet you’re out here trying to think of a way to find him,” you say. “Why?”

A frown tugs at Logan’s mouth and he looks down at his hands. Eventually, he reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a crumpled Polaroid. He tilts it towards you and you look down at the group or smiling people. “He’s got something to go home to,” he says, thumbing the edge of the photo. “I got nothin’.”

There’s something soft in his gaze as he looks down at the photo, some lingering hope he’s too afraid to put words to. 

“I’m sure you have something, Logan,” you say quietly. 

His expression hardens then, jaw tightening, as he slips the photo back in his pocket. “Had. Past tense.” Logan stands then and looks down at you. “Get ready. We’re leaving in five.” 

+++

You get ready quickly, changing your clothes and splashing water on your face before making sure your pack was sufficiently stocked. You were hoping you wouldn’t be needing it for much longer, but you didn’t want to express that thought out loud. Despite Logan wishing to go back to find Wade, you knew he wasn’t convinced this would end well.

Logan’s already started down the path as you jog down the cabin steps, swinging your pack up onto your shoulders. Catching up with him, you hand him the Pop-Tart you pulled out earlier. “Breakfast? They’re unfrosted, because this is the Void, but it’s something.”

He looks down at you, a strange expression on his face, but he accepts your offer. “Thanks,” he says, taking a bite.

“So, where exactly were you headed when you both decided to maul each other silly?” you ask, keeping pace with him as you walk through the woods.

“Johnny had mentioned a resistance out in the Borderlands,” Logan answers, swallowing the bite of Pop-Tart. “Figured we might find some people who could help us get control over Cassandra.” 

You nod. “You’re not far from the Borderlands. Maybe four or so miles from he cache. I haven’t ventured out that far, but I’ve heard there’s a few outposts where others have hunkered down.”

“Then that’s where we go.”

You walk in comfortable silence, leaving Logan to his thoughts as you travel further away from safety and into the unknown. You stop at the cache briefly, pausing only snag a few water bottles before moving on. 

A couple of miles past the cache, Logan suddenly stops, sniffing the air. His posture goes rigid, on alert as he slowly moves forward, beckoning you to follow him. A few yards away, the beat up van comes into view, parked alongside a lodging that looks as if it was built into the very earth itself. 

Logan’s arm darts out, stopping you. “Stay close,” he commands quietly, stepping cautiously closer towards the structure.

You follow behind him, every sense on alert as you step inside. The place is quiet, but then you hear it—the soft rustle of snoring. And then Logan’s soft, “Ah, fuck me.”

Peering over his shoulder, you find a sleeping Wade spread eagle on the bed. Logan side steps the bed, ignoring the sleeping man, and begins rummaging through the place. Finding a bottle of whiskey, he groans in delight, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull. 

“Really Logan?”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What else would you like me to be doing?” he asks, biting. 

“You came all this way to find him and now you’re gonna just drink?” you ask in disbelief. It gnaws at you, his indifference. You can feel little frissons of indignation licking at your skin and you have to tamp down your emotions before they bleed into him. 

Logan shrugs. “He’s asleep. I ain’t draggin’ him anywhere.”

You cross your arms, glaring at Logan in frustration. “I didn’t follow you here to watch you stand around and get drunk. Wake him up.”

He gives you a sidelong glance, his brow furrowing. You don’t relent, your stare pointed as he takes another long pull from the bottle. Muttering to himself, Logan makes his way over to the bed and gives it one swift, forceful kick. 

Wade jolts awake with a loud, exaggerated snort. He looks between you and Logan, his eyes finally settling on you. “Who’re you?” he asks, looking around as if expecting an answer. “When did the script get rewritten?”

You look at him quizzically, your eyebrow raised. “Who are you talking to?”

Wade huffs. “The audience,“ he says, gesturing towards the wall.

“Does he do this often?” you ask Logan in a whisper.

“Hasn’t stopped since he fucking dragged me here,” Logan replies. 

Your attention is diverted as Wade suddenly rolls from he bed, crossing the room and two large strides. He unsheathes one of his katanas, pressing himself against the wall and then he’s pinned on the ground as a woman pulls a blade of her own. After a moment, she lets Wade up and two more people follow into the room behind her. 

Logan eyes each one with suspicion as introductions are made and you can feel the tension growing within him as he continues to drink.

You jump as Gambit uses one of his playing cards to burst the bottle of whiskey in Logan’s hands. Logan ignores your pleading look and Wade’s admonishment as he grabs another bottle with a soft, “Boo boo boo.”

When Laura enters, you feel Logan’s interest pique, something heavy weighing on him. They both look towards one another, taking each other in and you don’t miss the recognition in Laura’s eyes.

“Do you know her?” you ask Logan, sliding closer to him.

Logan shakes his head. “No. But Wade’s Logan does.” He takes another long drink from the bottle, eyes still trained on her.

Wade continues to talk with the group, recapping their time in the Void and how they managed to escape Cassandra’s lair. Logan punctuates the conversation with vitriolic quips of his own, drinking more as Wade tries to get the group to form a team.

You try to send your power Logan’s way, trying to bleed into him some calm, but he shakes his shoulders and brushes you off. “Don’t fucking bother, sweetheart.”

“I can help you, Logan.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it.”

As Wade rallies the group into a cohesive unit, gaining their support in taking down Cassandra, Logan huffs a bitter laugh. “You’re all fucking dead.”

“Oh, my god, read the room,” Wade chides. 

+++

Logan storms off, one bottle of whiskey fisted in each hand. You want to follow after him, but Wade stops you. “Let him go, cupcake. Peanut’s in a fragile state and you’re too pretty to become mincemeat.”

You shoot a glare at him and brush his hand away from your shoulder. “No, he only seems to sink his claws into you,” you bite back, but the anger leeches from your voice. 

“Spicy,” Wade comments, “I like you. The script editor worked overtime on you, I can tell.”

“Yeah, well the jury’s still out over here,” you say, but you can’t help the twitch of a smile tugging at your lips. 

You glance over at the door and feel Wade sidle up beside you. “Seriously, cupcake. Chasing after him is like trying to catch a raccoon with rabies. Might be fun, but it’s not worth the bite.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, peering over at him, “And how long have you known him?”

Wade pretends to look down at his wrist and taps a non-existent watch. “Four days, six hours and thirty-two minutes,” he says with a smirk, “but I don’t really like to put a timestamp on friendship."

With a groan, you plop down on the bed and rub at your temples. “Is everything a joke with you?”

“Mostly,” he chirps with a grin. He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms as he watches you. “But I have been known to press pause occasionally.” Wade regards you for a moment, a slight tilt to his head. “Honey badger does it for you, huh?”

Sighing, you lay back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “I have followed Logan through millennia, Wade. I can’t remember a time anymore where I haven’t loved him.”

“His mutant dick that good, huh?”

You half laugh, half snort and shoot him a pointed look. “Not everything is about sex, Wade.”

“Agree to disagree,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve all got emotional baggage, mine is definitely over the free to fly limit, but that guy? Literal mountains. Centuries worth, even.”

“Exactly,” you say, sitting up. “I’ve helped him carry more than you can imagine. Logan may push people away, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need someone to stay.”

Wade cocks his head, considering your words and his expression softens. “You know running after him isn’t going to fix him.”

“I’m not trying to fix him,” you reply. “He just needs to know someone is there for him.” 

“Well, it’s your funeral, cupcake,” he says with a sigh. “I promise I’ll give a really moving eulogy. But, I do think if anyone is gonna convince tall, dark and brooding out there to join us, it’s you.”

You give him a soft smile as you stand. “Thanks, Wade.”

“And just so you know,” he calls after you, “I’m open and willing to being your mutant dick rebound.”

You roll your eyes and walk out the door.

+++

You step outside and see Logan sitting by himself in front of a fire not too far from the lodging. Walking quietly, you stop when you see Laura approach him and sit along side him. You’re close enough that you can hear their words—hear Logan tell her about the suit, about how he found the X-Men, his friends, dead. 

The anger, the loathing, this Logan carries comes into focus and you can’t help but wonder how long he’s lived with this weight upon his shoulders. Suffering alone with only the bottom of a bottle to quiet the thoughts that scream in his mind.

As Laura eventually leaves, she catches your eye and gives you a small nod.

You feel a strange kinship with her. She too has memories of a Logan who no longer exists and who is radically different from the one she has now. You wonder what she’s thinking and have half a mind to follow after her when you hear Logan call out, “I know you’re there.”

You turn back towards where he remains sitting in front of the fire, the whiskey bottle now more than half gone. Closing the gap between you, you sit down alongside him and watch as he continues to stare down into the fading fire.

“How much did you hear?” he asks, taking a large swig from the bottle. 

“Enough,” you answer simply.

Logan grunts and takes a long pull from the bottle, his lips glistening as his swallows get sloppy. “Well, now you know. I’m the worst Logan,” he almost spits, his tone dark and bitter. “You drew the short straw with me, sweetheart.”

“You know I don’t think that,” you say softly. 

Logan doesn’t respond and instead finishes the rest of the whiskey, tossing the bottle somewhere behind him. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he looks over at you. “You actually gonna join them tomorrow?”

“Are you?”

“It’s a fucking suicide mission,” he answers. “You want to walk up to your death, be my guest.”

“If you’re so convinced this is a suicide mission, why don’t you want to go?” you counter, his ire beginning to bleed into the space between you and creep uncomfortably along your skin. “You afraid you might come face to face with actual death and realize that’s not really what you want?” 

Logan’s gaze flicks up to your face, his eyes dark, dangerous. “You’re fucking pushin’ it.”

“Good! Someone fucking should be!” you exclaim, standing from the fallen log. Maybe Wade was right—maybe this was futile. In every universe Logan could be a stubborn ass, but this one was particularly obstinate. “Do you really believe you’re so unredeemable, Logan? That you’re just a vile mutant who doesn’t deserve sympathy after his friends were brutally murdered?”

You can feel his rage boiling just under the surface of the thin veneer of calm. His eyes pierce into you, pinning you in place as he stands to his full height, his fists clenched tightly. 

“You don’t know shit about me, sweetheart,” he growls. 

Anger simmers in your veins, threatening to burn you from the inside out. “Oh fuck you, Logan.”

He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a cruel smile. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me sinking into your cunt while you picture whatever version of me you think I am.” His voice is a low rumble, adding to the tension threatening to suffocate you. 

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and it isn’t desire that courses through you, but rage. Your skin prickles and his vitriol ignites something deep within you, something hotter and brighter than you’ve ever felt before. 

“After all this time and everything I’ve told you, you honestly believe that’s all I want from you? You’re a fucking pathetic asshole,” you snap, your voice sharp and laced with venom. 

Logan’s expression darkens, the smirk slipping from his face as his jaw clenches. “You got some balls sayin’ that shit to me,” he spits. 

A small part of you is terrified of him, afraid that he might actually snap. Might actually unsheathe his claws and send you onto your next life without ever having truly lived this one. But you know him, you know him. His pain and rage isn’t towards you, but himself. 

You risk a step closer to him, narrowing the space between you and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, mingling with your own fury. “Yeah, well at least one of us has a pair.”

Logan doesn’t have time to react before you channel your powers towards him, unleashing an explosive burst of energy that sends him staggering back. And then you smother him, smother him in thousands of years of memories, thousands of years of every single feeling you had ever felt for him in every universe you’ve known him. 

The weight of your emotional onslaught brings him to his knees, but you keep pushing, switching from your feelings for him to his feelings for you. All the affection, all the love, all the comfort the two of you shared in every version of your coupling across space and time floods his mind. 

You watch as his expression melts from anger into one of overwhelming vulnerability and pain. His hands, still clenched into fists, tremble beneath the weight of your power surging through him. He looks up at you then, his eyes pleading and your resolve breaks. Tears burn in your eyes and trail down your cheeks, wetting your lips as a scream rips from your lungs.  

Your hold on Logan dissipates as you reign your emotions back under control. You stagger on your feet as your power diminishes, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and broken sobs. You can’t look at him, not yet. If you do, you might actually break. So you do something that you never thought you would do—you leave.

+++

Night in the Void is cool, almost bordering on uncomfortable like everything else in this godforsaken place, but for once it doesn’t bother you. You gaze up at the sky, the haze of distant stars and planets blurring together the more you try and focus on just one. 

You’ve always loved looking at the stars. There was a comfort in knowing you could look up at the sky and see the same constellations in every universe, that there was always one constant among all the variables. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting before you hear the crunch of his boots on the earth, dried leaves and twigs snapping under his heel. Logan joins you on the ground, sitting with a heavy sigh. The maelstrom of emotions swirling within him bleeds into the space between you and you can feel it, thick and heavy and suffocating. 

You risk a glance at him and he looks…defeated. His eyes are red-rimmed and raw and you see something in those hazel eyes you rarely see—fear. Not fear at you, although your guilt would rather have you believe that, but fear of himself, fear of feeling what you’ve shown him. Logan’s breath is slow, controlled, but you can hear the slight tremor in it. 

“I promised myself I would never use my powers on you” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know what it feels like to experience that onslaught. It feels like drowning.” Your voice cracks and you fight to keep the guilt burning in your chest from consuming you whole. “And that was just a fraction of what we’ve felt across lifetimes, Logan.” 

Logan stays silent but gazes at your face, eyes flicking across your features, drinking you in. The scrutiny makes you shiver. Before you isn’t The Wolverine, the X-Man people in his universe loathe, but a man left raw and vulnerable. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says slowly, his voice rough as the words are pulled from him. “You shouldn’t have shown me that.”

You flinch, the weight of his words are a punch to your gut. “I know,” you whisper, wiping tears from your eyes. “I know and I’m sorry, I—”

Logan cuts you off with a shake of his head, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I already knew, sweetheart,”he murmurs, his voice low. “You feel like—you feel like home.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest and for a moment you can’t breathe. The words hang between you, heavy and raw, the sound of them something you’ve been craving to hear. 

“I am your home,” you reply softly. 

Logan shifts beside you, closing the space between you as he slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you in. His mouth crashes to yours, his kiss urgent, rough and desperate. 

You reach for him, gripping his shoulders as you kiss him back, the Void slipping away. There’s only the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his beard against your skin, the way his other hand tugs at your waist in an attempt to pull you closer. 

It’s messy and intense and you don’t want it to end. Logan kisses you like a man starved, like you’re his last breath of air. 

A whimper falls from your lips as he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You’re both breathless, his nose softly nudging yours. 

“Please come with us tomorrow,” you whisper against his skin. “Let me take you home.”

He nods once and that’s all you need. 

+++

The morning comes quicker than anyone would like. 

Nervous energy bleeds through the group, everyone knowing they’re on the precipice of life or death, that this may be the last day they ever inhale air into their lungs or feel the warmth of the sun on their skin.

Logan’s quiet, already tucking into Gambit’s liquor, as you sit down beside him. He looks down at you briefly, taking a long long pull before offering you the bottle. You take it from him and take a swig of your own, the amber liquid burning a path down your throat. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask, handing him back the bottle.

He stares down at his feet, swirling the liquid around in the glass. “I honestly don’t even fuckin’ know.”

You reach for his hand and give him a comforting squeeze. He stares down at you for a moment and then drags his gaze up to your face. “Whatever happens Logan, I’ll be right there with you.”

Final preparations complete, everyone piles into the van, you tucking alongside Logan in the hatchback. The ride is mostly quiet, punctuated only with the few occasional quips by Wade just to ease the tension. You brace yourself, gripping Logan’s calf as Blade sends a rocket launcher through Cassandra’s front gate and Elektra floors it through the explosion. 

The others leave the van first, forming a line of defense. You look up at Logan and lean forward to press the faintest of kisses against his lips. His fingers curl around your neck and pull you closer, deepening it just enough to taste your mouth. 

“Let’s go,” he murmurs, pulling back. “Stay by me.”

You swallow hard, loathe to let him go, wanting to stay in the perceived safety of the van, but you simply nod and follow him to join the others.

Fighting erupts all around you and you stick as close to Logan’s back as you can. It’s a symphony of chaos—rage, fear and determination all swirling heavily in the air. You feel your power thrum underneath your fingertips as you channel those emotions back towards whoever Logan is fighting, hoping to disarm them—even if temporarily—with their own vitriol in an attempt to give him an advantage. 

The air burns in your lungs as you move through the fight, your mind spinning as you gain distance towards Cassandra’s lair. You can see the others move around you—Elektra and Blade slicing down enemies with their blades; Gambit disarming others with his explosively charged playing cards; Laura fighting in a style all her own, yet so much like Logan’s; and Wade cutting down others like he’s having fun.

A clear path opens up to the ramp leading up to Cassandra and the others swarm behind you, allowing yourself, Wade and Logan to break free from the melee. Logan looks back at you just long enough for you to see the fear in his eyes. You try and remain stoic, even though your mind is racing with all he the ways this could go wrong, and give him a small nod of encouragement. 

You stop short in front of Cassandra as she sits sipping tea, seemingly disinterested in the battle happening just outside her stronghold. “You two escaping I could live with, but coming back willingly…” she trails off, “Boys are so silly.” Her eyes dart towards you. “And you brought a friend!”

“I just need to get home,” Wade says, his tone serious. 

“I’m afraid that’s not an option.”

Cassandra flicks Wade aside effortlessly and Logan’s instantly on alert, claws extended at his side. You attempt to direct your powers at her, trying to defuse the anger simmering below her surface. She rolls her neck and glances at you, intrigue in her eyes. 

“Oh, aren’t you interesting,” she says, effortlessly flicking your powers aside. “I wonder what treats you have hiding in that mind of yours.”

Cassandra steps closer to you, her calculating stare flicking over your face. She lifts one hand up to you and from behind her, Logan growls and moves to attack. You watch, powerless, as she pins Logan to the ground with his own claws. 

She tsks and looks down at him, “That’s enough out of you.”

And then, she’s in your mind, every nerve ending in your body on fire, ready to consume you whole. 

You’re standing in a library, Cassandra at your side. Shelves extend as far as the eye can see, fading into an infinite distance. You walk aimlessly along the shelves, pausing at the entrance of a room simply titled “Logan”. 

“Oh, now this is something,” you hear Cassandra say from beside you. “This is quite the collection you have.”

Your fingers reach out and touch the spines, the briefest flickers of memories emanating from their covers. “I’ve known him for so long,” you murmur. “Been with him through so much.”

You pause in front of one book, the urge to open it nearly overwhelming. Pulling it from the shelf, the pages flutter open and you gasp, the memories of that life flooding your brain. 

You and Logan were married in this life. He worked a simple job, construction. There were no X-men, no missions, no danger. He kept his mutation a secret, showing only you when the memories got too rough, too unmanageable. You were his anchor. You had two kids—girls. And oh, how he loved them. Both of them wrapped effortlessly around his heart from before they were even born.

Tears spring to your eyes as the warmth of those memories flood through you. “I loved that life,” you whisper, putting the book back on the shelf.

“And who wouldn’t?” Cassandra agrees, placing her hand on your shoulder. “So effortless his love for you. So different from now.”

You glance over at her, confusion drawn on your face. False empathy tugs at Cassandra’s sympathetic smile. “Are you even sure he cares for you now? This Logan is so broken, more broken and unloveable than all these other Logans, hm?”

Shaking your head, you try to resist her efforts to batter you, to convince you your soul’s purpose is not worth it. Not worth him. “That’s not true. They’re all worthy. All capable and deserving of love,” you say, your fingers trailing along another spine. “Even this one. Especially this one.”

Cassandra’s face contorts then and…

She’s wrenched from your mind and you fall to your knees, blinking up as you see Wade holding Cassandra from behind, one hand holding Jaggernaut’s helmet to her head. 

Your mind still spins as Logan and Wade confront her, their conversation a jumble in your mind. But you don’t miss her saying either they kill her, or she kills them. Finding the strength to stand, you rise and place your hand on Wade’s arm.

“If I stay,” you start, focusing only on Cassandra and ignoring the press of Logan’s gaze into your skin, “Will you let them go?”

Logan reaches for you and you pull your gaze from Cassandra long enough to press your palm against this chest. You meet his eyes, silently pleading with him to let you continue. 

“Will you?” you repeat, unable to keep the pleading out of your tone.

Cassandra laughs bitterly. “You love him that much? To sacrifice yourself to save him? That Logan, out of all of them?”

You nod, feeling the tears burn in your eyes. “I love him that much,” you reply softly.

Logan grabs your hand then, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t,” he chokes out, voice thick with unspoken emotion, “Don’t do this.”

You smile softly as you reach up and cup his cheek, his beard rough against your palm. You don’t miss the way he briefly nuzzles into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he sighs. “I love you, Logan. In all my lives, in this one and in the next one, too.” The first tear slips down your cheek as you look up at him. “I promise I’ll find you again, Logan. I always do.”

You press a kiss to his mouth, soft and gentle. It lingers for a moment, a desperate, bittersweet exchange as Logan tries to memorize the feel of you. His hands grip your waist, clutching almost hard enough to bruise, but you relish the pain. 

Wade stands beside you both, uncharacteristically silent, his hands still holding Cassandra in place. His usual banter is gone, the weight of the moment not lost on him. “This is the worst fucking idea anyone has ever had,” he mutters, but his tone is soft. “And I’ve had some pretty terrible ideas.”

Cassandra regards you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “If I let them go, you’ll stay here with me in the Void. Be my ally.”

You nod, “Yes.”

Cassandra’s eyes narrow, calculating, weighing her options. Finally she sighs, “Fine. But you know…no one will remember this little sacrifice of yours. The next Logan won’t even know you.”

Logan growls and you squeeze his hand in gentle reassurance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice finally breaking. “I’ll remember enough for the both of us.”

You step away from Logan, your heart shattering with every step. Wade lets go of Cassandra and you feel the weight of your decision settle heavily against your shoulders. 

Cassandra pulls something from her pocket, slipping it onto her fingers. Before you, a portal opens up, just outside the boundaries of the room. Outside, the raging storm that is Alioth grows near and in that moment, you realize Cassandra was playing a game of her own.

“I figure,” she says, straightening the lapels of her jacket, “that they have approximately four seconds before they’re through.”

Your eyes flick to Logan and you memorize every detail, every emotion written across his face. With one final nod, he tears his gaze from you and he runs towards the portal, Wade alongside him.

And then, darkness consumes all.

+++

You’re unsure how long you’ve been out. The last thing you remember was Alioth screaming towards you, giving you barely enough time to cocoon yourself from his rage.

Cassandra is gone.

Wade is gone.

And Logan—Logan is gone.

You open your eyes and find Remy standing above you. He offers you his hand and helps you to stand. “C’mon, chère,” he says, nodding towards the open portal behind him, “Let’s go home.”

You’re not sure where home is any more, not without Logan, but you don’t have the strength to argue. From the moment you wound up here in the Void, you’ve been looking for a way out. Now that you have one, you know you need to take it. 

Accepting Remy’s hand, you join him through the portal.

You stumble into a familiar room and are greeted warmly by a smiling TVA agent. She’s unlike the first TVA agent you met, her presence comforting as she says your name. “We heard you’ve had quite the adventure.” She looks over towards Remy. “Mr. LeBeau, if you’ll follow this agent here.”

Remy leaves with he other agent, turning towards you with a wink. “Enjoy your man for me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters in your chest and you look towards the agent, trying to suppress the hope you feel in your chest. She smiles and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. From her pocket she pulls out a small device, pressing a few buttons on the pad. Before you a different portal opens and she gestures towards it.

“Welcome home.”

+++

You stand in front of the apartment door and hesitate before knocking. Your nerves flutter uncomfortably in your belly even though it’s been less than two days since you last saw Logan in the Void. But you’re out now—you both are—and the fear nags at you that maybe this isn’t what he wants. That you aren’t what he wants. 

You stuff that thought down with a shake of your head. Raising your hand, you rap against the door three times and let out a shaky breath. When he opens the door, you feel as if the air has left your lungs and you forget to breathe. Your heart aches at the sight of him. 

Logan stops short, his face falling into one of pure disbelief and all he can do is stare at you.

“Is that my stripper?” you hear Wade call from farther into the apartment. Logan continues to stare at you as Wade pops up behind him, his face lighting up in surprise. “Oh, hey cupcake! Didn’t expect to—“

“Get out,” Logan growls, turning his head slightly in Wade’s direction, his eyes never leaving yours. 

From over Logan’s shoulder, Wade wiggles his eyebrows. “Ah, looking for some afternoon delight?” he coos, slinging his arm over Logan’s shoulder and patting his chest. “This guy has been jerkin’ it constan—“

You hear the sknit of Logan’s claws as they unsheathe into Wade’s thighs. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!” Wade curses. “You’re supposed to be penetrating her, not me!”

“Get. Out,” Logan repeats, retracting his claws. 

“Fine.” Wade pushes past Logan’s frame, limping slightly as his wounds heal themselves. “You’re lucky Blind Al’s already out playing Bingo. Or selling herself for blow. I don’t actually know her schedule,” he comments as he walks down the hallway. “Glad you’re home, cupcake.”

Logan barely waits until Wade is out of sight before tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling you towards him. Your gasp dies on your lips as he drags you inside, shutting the door with his foot and pushing you up against the rough wood. Then his mouth is on yours and it’s warm and wet and wonderful. 

His hands cup your face, fingers moving to tangle in your hair and you feel him everywhere. You whine as he nips lightly at your chin before trailing his lips back up your jaw, licking into your mouth as he kisses you deep. 

Your fingers scramble for purchase, fisting themselves into the fabric of his button-down flannel. 

There’s a desperation and urgency bleeding from him, as if he can’t drink you in fast enough, or hard enough, or long enough to satiate the longing that’s within him. And you’re feeling it too, an ache growing deeper in your belly, a need to be consumed by him fully and you whine into his mouth because he’s not nearly close enough to you.

A thigh slips between your legs as he kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, a moan falling from your lips as you greedily seek friction. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Logan husks against your shoulder, pulling your hips harder against his clothed thigh. 

Your hands cup the sides of his face, your fingers scratching lightly against his beard. You force him to look at you, his pupils blown wide. “I always come to you,” you say softly. “I always come home.”

He kisses you softly then, his mouth slow over yours and he drops his thigh from between your leg. You whine at the loss and he pulls back. “C’mere,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you further into he apartment. “I’m not fucking you for the first time against a door.”

You follow him to the bedroom, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and you can feel the prickle of anticipation along your spine as he turns back to look at you. His eyes never leave yours as he shrugs off the flannel and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes trace the lines of his chest, the strong definition of his muscles, following the line of hair that leads to the top of his jeans. As you bite your lip, you hear his chuckle, “My eyes are up here.”

“Mmm, yeah they are,” you start, tugging your shirt off and shimmying your pants over your hips, “but the view down there is nice, too.”

Logan reaches for you, his large hands skimming over your hips, over the flesh of your ass and under your thighs, lifting you up and forcing your to wrap your legs around his waist. With an easy flick of his fingers, he’s unclasped your bra and you toss it aside with the rest of your clothes. 

Kneeling on the bed, he lays you down, kissing his way down your stomach, his nose nuzzling along the top of your panties. “Do you have any fucking idea how sweet you smell?” His mouth is hot against your skin and he laughs as you tilt your hips up towards him. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue? Lap at you until you’re seeing stars?”

Molten desire shoots down your spine and you can feel the slick between your thighs. God, the mouth on him was going to be the death of you. 

You prop yourself up onto your elbows and look down at him. “Just fucking touch me already,” you whine, and you hate how desperate you sound. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

He presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his nose along the center of your clothed cunt. You inhale sharply as he kisses over your clit before trailing his fingers along your hip bones and pulling the fabric down. His warm hands palm along your thighs and he opens you up, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes. And then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a hot stripe through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as his mouth continues to lap at you, pleasure tingling low in your belly and spreading through your limbs.

Logan hums. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart.” His tongue dips down, collecting the arousal at your entrance. “I could die happy between these thighs.”

You trail your hands down over your chest, briefly palming each breast before you continue down and sink your fingers into Logan’s hair. His groan rumbles through you and you don’t miss the way his hips start to rut against the mattress, seeking friction. 

His mouth and tongue continue to move over you, long, slow licks punctuated by gentle sucks and flicks over your clit and you can’t stop the grind of your hips against his face. You feel his smirk against you as one thick finger finally sinks inside your walls, nudging that spot deep inside that makes you squirm.

Another finger slips inside you and a low whine spills from your lips. 

“You’re beautiful like this, you know that,” he says, voice rough, thumb replacing his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue pumping. “All blissed out and needy and desperate to come on my fingers.”

His words zip through you as he fuck you with his hand and you bite your lip. “C’mon,” he purrs, “let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.”

Soft whimpers spill from your throat as he continues to work you, that pull in your lower belly growing stronger and stronger. His hand never stilling, he kisses his way up your body, pulling a nipple into his mouth and then you’re coming, cunt clenching around his fingers. 

Logan licks into your mouth to steal your cries as he continues to work you through your orgasm. Your thighs clamp around his forearm, the pleasure overwhelming. 

He finally stills, pulling his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. You watch through half lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean of your slick and you feel that flame reignite in your belly. 

“Take your pants off,” you demand, breathless, pushing at his chest. 

Logan laughs, but allows you to push him onto his back. “You always so bossy after you come?”

You fumble at his belt, undoing his buckle and unzipping his jeans before shoving them down his hips. “Make me do it again and find out,” you taunt as his cock springs free.

He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and you sit back on your heels and admire him for a moment. Your eyes trail from his broad shoulders, down the contours of his chest and follow that line of hair down his stomach to between his thighs, where his cock stands, thick and ready. 

“I will never get tired of looking at you,” you sigh, raking your nails down his thighs, deliberately not touching him where you know he wants it the most. “You’re so beautiful, Logan.”

Whatever response he has, dies in his throat as you finally wrap your hand around his cock, giving him one long, firm stroke. He’s hot and heavy and you’re aching to feel him inside you. But not yet. Leaning down, your eyes meet his and you trace your tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting the salt on his skin.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Logan curses, unable to stop the thrust of his hips, chasing your mouth. 

You wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the slit and collecting the precum there before taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. Logan hisses through his teeth, fingers winding their way into your hair to help guide your movements. 

“You’re so warm and wet, sweetheart,” he groans. “But I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

You give him one last stroke as you release him from your mouth and climb up to sit on his thighs. Logan pulls you forward by your hips and you gasp as your cunt slides across his cock. 

“Line me up,” he instructs and you obey without hesitation. 

Gripping him in your hand, you guide him to your entrance, notching him inside before slowly sinking down atop him. A sob chokes in your throat at the thick feel of him inside you, stretching you, making you feel complete. Your entire existence boils down to where he’s joined with you and you relish the burn.

His hands are everywhere as you start to move, caressing your thighs, your hips, up to your breasts and back down, tracing a map on your skin only his fingers can read. Praise falls from his lips in an almost nonstop litany, telling you how wet you are, how tight, how warm, how good you’re making him feel.

“Do you want to know how you make me feel?” you ask, breathless. You look down at him through half lidded eyes and find him just as flushed and wanton as you. “How you’ve always made me feel?”

You continue to rock back and forth on his cock, slow, deliberate movements that leave you wanting, needing more. Logan shifts his hips and finds the leverage to fuck up into you, the deep drag of his cock against your walls making you throw your head back and moan. 

“Fuck,” he growls, his fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of your hips, pulling you somehow impossibly closer. “Show me, sweetheart.” 

You brace your hands against his chest, raking your fingers through the damp hair there, feeling his heart beat beneath your palms. Leaning down, you capture his mouth with yours, the kiss sloppy as he continues to thrust up into you. You move your hands up his neck, your fingers collecting the sweat along his jaw and then, “Feel, Logan.”

It starts slow, an almost faint heat spreading from your fingertips as they ghost over his skin, your power beginning to pulse in time with your heartbeat. Logan gasps and his rhythm falters as the first wave of emotion hits him. You slow, too, your hips barely moving as you run your fingers down from his jaw, over the column of his throat and back to his chest. 

Your palms rest against his ribs as you continue to pour into him all the love and passion he’s ever shown you over centuries. Logan stares up at you in reverence, his face soft as he runs his hands up your sides, over your breasts. He tugs you down towards him, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Do you feel, Logan,” you ask, your breath hot against his lips. “Do you feel how much you love you have in you?”

He draws your bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly once, before capturing your mouth fully, kissing you deep. You hum as his tongue swipes against yours and his fingers tangle in your hair. 

A gasp pulls from your throat as Logan wraps his arms around you and flips your position, forcing your legs around his waist as he begins to thrust into you again in earnest. You feel him deep in this position, each thrust of his cock against your walls hitting that perfect spot inside of you. 

“It’s too much,” he groans into your skin. “Never…never felt like this.”

You rake your nails along his back, relishing in the growl that falls from this throat. “It always feels like this,” you gasp, drawing your power back. 

His arms slide under your shoulders, anchoring you in place as his hips continue to thrust into you. It’s lewd almost, the slapping of skin against skin and the wet noises from where you’re joined. His breath is hot and damp against your skin where his mouth hovers over the pulse point in your neck. 

Your fingers snake into the short strands of hair at the back of his neck and your other hand slips in between your bodies, reaching for your clit. 

“That’s it,” he moans, “use those fingers to get yourself off on my cock.”

You can feel where he’s sliding thickly into your cunt, the wiry hairs at the base of his cock damp with your arousal, and you begin to rub in time with his thrusts. Pleasure zips along your spine, every cell in your body afire at his touch. You feel that telltale tug low in your belly and you know you’re not going to last much longer. 

He slides his hands down from your shoulders, following the curve of your spine, forcing you to arch your back. Taking the opportunity before him, he swirls his tongue over one nipple, then the other as he palms the flesh of your hips in his hands, angling your hips further up into his. A keening whine falls from your lips as he somehow thrusts deeper into you, making your legs shake. 

Logan nudges your hand away from your clit, replacing your fingers with his own as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes are focused on the sight of his cock thrusting into you and the slick smeared across your thighs. 

“Logan,” you gasp, “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, dragging his gaze up to your face, “I got you. Takin’ me so well, so tight. Gonna spend the rest of my life tellin’ you how fucking good you are.”

His words tip you over the edge, your orgasm rolling through you as you spasm down on his cock, his name falling from your lips. He fucks you through your orgasm, each thrust of his hips sending aftershocks of pleasure along your limbs as he chases his own release. Logan’s thrusts grow erratic and you reach for him, grasping at his forearms, pulling him down to you. 

“Come for me, Logan,” you murmur in his ear. “I wanna feel you come.”

With one final thrust, he comes with a groan, forehead pressed against yours as he spills himself deep within you. You can feel cock spasm as he lazily thrusts through his orgasm, using your body to wring out the last of his pleasure. You hold him close, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw as he finally stills within you. 

Careful not to crush you, Logan pulls you to him as he rolls onto his side. He doesn’t pull out, tugging your leg over his hip to keep you close and full. 

You smile up at him, brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. He sighs at your touch, a content sound that tugs at your heart. 

“You really love me in every universe?” he asks softly, brushing his nose against yours. 

“Yes.”

“Even this one?”

“Especially this one.” 

You don’t know what the rest of this life holds, but you do know one thing—wherever he goes, you’ll be right there with him. 

[autumnscribbles]

truth part 2 | rc

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader

summary: rafe finds out about sofia’s betrayal, and tries to come back and apologize for his previous words

part 1

warnings: swearing, angst, unhappy ending lol

wc: 1.8k

a/n: thank you SO MUCH to everyone that showed love on the first part😭 i appreciate it so so so much!! i kept this one pretty angsty because i think we all wanted to see rafe not be forgiven! so it is open ended for a part 3 👀 if you guys wanna see it! lots of love 🫶🏻

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

You were sitting on your wraparound balcony, book in your hand as you felt the sun warming your bare skin. It was another beautiful day out, and you wanted to take advantage. Your sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose as your eyes scanned the novel in front of you.

You were taken out of a trance when you heard a commotion going on nearby. It sounded like it was coming from the Cameron house, which sat next to yours. Sofia had been staying in it, so you've heard, despite Rafe being in Morocco. You placed your bookmark between the pages, setting it down before rising to your feet. You walked to the edge of the balcony, placing your hands on the railing to lean over it slightly.

You saw Sofia, walking outside with a suitcase dragging behind her. What was she doing? She went in and out a few times, each time returning with various different items that all must have belonged to her. You wanted to ask her what was going on, if it had anything to do with Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him since the fight you got into at his house, and he was gone now. In Morocco doing god knows what with the Pogues. You didn't care anymore.

A car pulled up in front of the intimidating large property, Sofia disappearing inside of it as it drove away. The house was empty now. The house you spent years walking over to, sleeping at, drinking at, now sat there vacant. Simple as that. Everyone gone. You reflected on how quickly things change, how easy it is for everything to fall apart so quickly. You had cried about your conversation with Rafe after it happened, but since that night you hadn't shed a tear. You loathed him for what he said to you, for blaming his own emotional damage on you. You had always supported him, been there for him even when he was a complete mess. Goes to show none of it mattered in the end, anyway. You didn't know when he would return, and you couldn't be bothered to try and find out.

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

Rafe busted through the front door of his house, being met with nothing but deafening silence. The air sat heavy around him. It was just...empty. Sofia had actually left. He knew he told her to, but he was hoping deep down that he had been wrong. Maybe she'd stay and tell him Groff was full of shit. Her absence was confirmation that you had been right all along. He accused you of lying, of jealousy, and now he was eating his words.

"Fuck!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the counter in front of him, dropping his head in his hands. Everything was ruined. His friendship with you, his relationship, the deal. Everything slipped through his fingers so quickly, he couldn't keep up.

He decided he needed to talk to you, to see you again. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed you. When he was in Morocco, all he could think of was you. He was too proud to admit that, though.

"Please be home," he muttered under his breath as he turned back around and out the front door.

He walked up to the entrance of your home, banging his fist on the door loudly. He continued repeatedly until you finally swung the door open.

Your eyes met his, fighting to hold back a gasp. You weren't sure you would ever see him again, and here he was. He looked anxious, his eyebrows furrowing and his gaze roaming all over the place. His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly as he looked at the floor.

"You were right," he practically whispered, his stare remaining off of you.

"What was that?" you asked, cupping your hand to your ear. You heard him, you just wanted to hear him say it louder.

"I said you were right, okay? About Sofia," he admitted. "She took the money from Hollis and convinced me to take the deal. I kicked her out, we're done."

You had to admit the words were good to hear. You already knew you were right, but it felt good to hear him admit it. You were starting to wonder if the truth would ever come out, or if Sofia would just keep going on like everything was fine. Rafe almost never admitted when someone else was in the right. It wasn't that easy, though. He had a lot more to admit wrong than just not believing you. Sofia wasn't even the issue anymore.

"Great," you said sharply, starting to shut the door. He stuck his arm out, holding it open.

"I said you were right, y/n," he repeated. "I should have believed you."

"Good for you," you said dryly. "I told you not to come crying to me when she fucked you over. That remains true."

Rafe let out a long sigh, frustrated at how difficult you were being. In the past, a simple apology would make everything go back to normal. Clearly, that wasn't going to be how it goes this time. He knew you could be stubborn, and it drove him insane. His arm remained extended, stopping the door from shutting. He saw movement going on behind you, and craned his neck to get a better view.

"What's going on?" Topper asked, appearing behind you.

Topper had dropped by this morning to bring you breakfast. You hadn't asked him to. You think maybe he felt bad for you, pitied you. You were alone in a big house, your family gone. Rafe was gone. You didn't need his cheering up, though, you were perfectly happy on your own.

Being alone for so long allowed you to be comfortable and even content in your own presence. You liked the quiet mornings, the long walks, and never having to ask anyone for anything.

"You-," Rafe stuttered. "You're hanging out with Topper?"

"And?" you asked, your jaw set as you blankly stared at him.

"You don't even like Topper," he whispered harshly, leaning towards you.

"Says who?" you said. "You don't know me anymore, Rafe."

He scoffed and took a step back from the door. He took a deep breath before speaking, knowing that maybe he should think a little bit more before he speaks.

He wasn't wrong, you didn't like Topper. He was arrogant and honestly kind of a baby most of the time. He was always whining about Sarah, or John B and it was getting old. You had been spending too much time alone, though. You knew people were talking. People were always talking. Hanging out with Topper would put out a good word, and he'd tell people you're fine. Maybe then people would stop asking. There wasn't anything going on other than friendship, but you didn't mind the company here and there.

"Are you just trying to make me jealous?" Rafe asked, his eyes finally fully meeting yours, reaching you.

"Are you serious, Rafe? Again?" you asked. You took a step outside, pulling the door shut behind you. You didn't want him in your home, especially not with Topper there.

Topper probably thrived on the drama, probably couldn't wait to go run to the other kooks and tell them Rafe showed up at your door. That aside, you had to give him a piece of your mind at this point.

"I am serious, y/n!" he exclaimed.

"Rafe, when will it get through your brain that not every decision I make is about you?" you asked. "Are you seriously so selfish and self absorbed that you think every move I make has to do with you?"

Rafe's mouth stayed slightly agape, his feet pacing back and forth on your walkway. He ran his hands over his head, his jaw clenching. His brain was going a mile a minute, and he couldn't find the words anymore. He was overcome with emotions, unable to regulate them.

"Do you not remember what you said to me, Rafe?" you asked, your voice raising.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said. "I was an asshole, and I should have believed you about Sofia. I shouldn't have said those things."

"What did you say again?" you asked, taking a step closer to him, your head held high. You would not back down this time. You wouldn't let him get away with it.

You tapped your chin with your index finger, looking upwards acting like you were trying to remember his words. "Oh yeah, that all I do is fuck with your head? That I want attention? That I use you for my benefit? That I'm a jealous liar? I almost forgot."

Rafe went to speak, but you cut him off again, immediately.

"Oh and I almost forgot," you sneered, sarcasm dropping from your voice. "That all your problems are because of me?"

"Y/n," he breathed, taking a visibly deep breath.

"Don't even say anything, Rafe," you said, putting your hand up to stop him from speaking. "If I ruin your life so much, and mess with your head, I don't need to be part of it. I'll live my life, and you live yours. You can do whatever you want, I don't care."

"I care, y/n!" Rafe exclaimed. "I didn't mean those things I-I was just angry. You know I can say stupid shit when I get mad."

"You can't just say awful things and take them back," you explained. "That's not how this works. You don't get to hurt me and then show up at my door thinking I'll forgive you because you 'didn't mean it'."

“Y/n, please,” Rafe begs, his eyes turning glossy. “You have to forgive me, I need you in my life.”

“Clearly you don’t, Rafe,” you sneered. “You told me otherwise, actually.”

“You can’t do this to me!” he said angrily, his emotions brewing and threatening to spill over. He hated when he yelled at you, but he was so frustrated. “Don’t do this.”

You couldn’t ignore the twist in your heart at the tears in his eyes. Usually you would fold, but you were determined this time. He hurt you, more than he ever had. You couldn’t let him off that easily. You were doing fine without him.

“I have to go,” you said, looking back to your house looming behind you. “Bye Rafe.”

“Please,” he repeated, his voice barely over a whisper. You closed the door, leaving him standing alone on your front lawn, exactly as he had done to you.

You still hadn’t decided if revenge was the best medicine, but it was the only way for him to listen. To truly listen. If he really cared about you, he would come back with a real apology, not excuses.

Rafe stood wide eyed, staring blankly in front of him. He bit his lip, the back of his throat burning as he tried to hold back tears. He hadn’t meant for things to happen this way.

You were all he had, the only person who really cared about him, and who he cared about. Now you were gone, and it was all his fault.

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

taglist: @evermorx89 @glenpowellswifee69 @xxbirkindoll2 (🫶🏻🫶🏻)

[honnelander]

go fish!

so i fell in love with Sanji just like everyone else. i've never seen the one piece anime or read the manga so i'm solely going off of the live action. i had fun writing this and plan to make this a series of some sorts where it's a fem!reader x Sanji moments of awkwardness, fluff, and mutual pining because i love reading that stuff myself. if anyone has any suggestions or requests for this series please leave a comment or send me an ask!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 1.3k

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: reader and Usopp are playing a card game when Sanji finds them. teasing ensues.

prequel part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

“Care for a refreshment, Madam?” a smooth, deep familiar voice asked to your left, breaking your concentration on the card game in front of you. 

“Hm?” you looked up from the cards in your hand and saw the Going Merry’s own chef looking down at you with a crooked, charming smile as he held a chilled glass bottle of water in his hand. “Oh, hey Sanji,” you greeted quickly with your usual smile as you looked back down at your hand. “What’d you say? Go fish Usopp.” 

Your opponent across the barrel from you grumbled as he took the top card off the deck sitting between you both. 

“I was just asking if the lovely madam sitting here would like a nice, cold refreshment on this particularly hot day?” Sanji asked again with a hint of amusement, his crooked smile deepening as he watched you study your hand once again. 

“’Lovely madam’?” Usopp repeated sarcastically, his eyebrows pulling together. “What about offering her super buff, brave, and heroic opponent an ice-cold beverage instead?” 

“Nope,” Sanji corrected, popping the 'p'. “Ladies first Usopp. Always.” 

Even after knowing Sanji for a couple of months now, his consistent chivalry always managed to make your heart flutter.  

You laughed lightly and couldn’t help but smirk as you said with a matter-of-fact, teasing tone, “Just say you wish you were a girl, Usopp. No judgment here.” You paused for a moment before asking, “You got the five of spades?” 

“Now even though I would make an extremely attractive, gorgeous woman, I am a man through and through.” A grin broke out on Usopp’s face as he glanced at his hand and triumphantly called out, “Go fish, y/n.” 

“Fair enough,” you hummed as you reached for a card. “And yes Sanji, I would love a glass of cold water. Thank you.” You shot a quick look of gratitude the chef’s way as you took a card from the deck. 

Sanji placed the two glasses onto your makeshift barrell-table top he was holding in his left hand and started filling up the glasses with water. “Of course. Anything for the missus.” 

Missus. Ugh. It made your heart skip a beat to hear him call you that. But you knew he didn’t really mean anything by it. It was just how Sanji spoke, forever the gentleman. 

“Oof. If you keep sweet talking like that Sanji, you’re going to even make me blush, just like y/n,” Usopp joked. 

Your eyes widened as your eyes snapped to look at your dumbass crewmate and friend sitting across from you. “I- I am not blushing Usopp!” God, if you both were using a real table instead of a barrel right now you would’ve broken his shine with your foot. You really weren’t blushing before but Usopp’s stupid comment definitely made your cheeks heat up now. “It’s the heat,” you hissed.  

“’Heat’,” he mocked with air quotes and snorted. “Right.” 

“I-” before you could defend yourself, Sanji spoke up. 

“Actually,” the blonde chef chimed in with a light laugh as he filled the second glass, “that’s why I came over in the first place. You were looking a little flushed y/n, so I thought you guys could use a cold drink.” 

Sanji’s words caused both you and Usopp to look up from your cards simultaneously, making eye contact with each other. A mischievous grin started to form on Usopp’s face as he saw the blush deepen on your face. You quickly looked back to your hand, suddenly finding the eight of clovers card extremely interesting.  

Sanji saw you looking flushed? He saw you? From across the deck? From inside the kitchen’s window? He was watching you play cards? The thought of Sanji watching you when you didn’t expect him to made your stomach erupt in butterflies, and it certainly didn’t make your stupid little crush on him go away. Just the opposite. In fact, it just fueled your delusional fantasy even more.  

And it certainly didn’t help that the only person who knew about your crush on the head chef just so happened to have a big mouth and loved to tease you about it any chance he got. And that he was sitting right across from you right now, watching all of this unfold right in front of him. 

“Oh? So you were watching y/n and I play cards out here?” Usopp innocently asked his blonde crewmate, but you knew better. There wasn’t an ounce of true curiosity in his tone whatsoever. 

“Yeah, from the kitchen,” Sanji answered casually as he recapped the glass water bottle. 

“Usopp,” you warned. 

“And you said that she looked ‘flushed’?” Usopp asked, quirking a brow at the end of his question as he turned his gaze from you to Sanji. 

Sanji blinked in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together for a second before looking down at his crewmate. “Yeah...” he said slowly before continuing, “Her cheeks looked a little pink so I figured-” 

“Oh?” Usopp asked, his voice becoming louder. “You noticed the color of her cheeks, from that far away?” 

“Usopp,” you hissed louder but it fell on deaf ears. Once your friend got on a roll, there was little anyone could do about it. Especially when it came to teasing you about your feelings for Sanji. 

“Yeah,” Sanji replied to Usopp’s question with a confused smile. “What are you-” 

“GO FISH!” you blurted out loudly, cutting Sanji off and having both men turn their eyes towards you.  

“Huh?” Usopp blinked his eyes at you, suddenly remembering the game in front of him. “But I didn’t even ask you anything y/n. And you just drew a card, so it’s your turn to ask me.” 

You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that Usopp stopped grilling Sanji with all of those embarrassing questions right in front of you....even though you couldn’t help but perk up at the fact that Sanji in fact had been watching you from the kitchen, and that he was sweet enough to bring you (and Usopp) some water.  

“Well, I tried,” you shrugged and lied, “but you just kept yapping so you didn’t hear me. Do you have the Queen of hearts?” 

Usopp studied you for a brief moment before looking at his cards, smirking to himself. “You know y/n, it’s funny you asked about the Queen of hearts,” he said as he plucked the requested card from his hand and reached out to give it to you, “since you make heart eyes yourself whenever you look at-” 

“GOOD game Usopp!” you practically yelled as you threw your cards down onto the barrel and stood up, hoping your outburst drowned out the name Usopp was about to so stupidly blurt out. You shook his free hand with both of yours as you said, “You totally win my friend.” 

“What?” Sanji laughed slightly as he watched you and Usopp shake hands. The poor guy was as confused as ever. “But the game isn’t over.” 

You looked Usopp dead in the eye as tightened your grip on his hand. “Oh no, it’s over. He definitely won.”  

Yeah, he won alright. He won the game of making your life a living hell and embarrassing you in front of Sanji. He won the gold medal in that game. 

“I sure did,” Usopp agreed triumphantly, putting his cards down. 

You dropped his hand and took the glass of cold water that Sanji had so generously poured, the cold glass making you feel better already. “Thank you for this Sanji. I think I’ll go enjoy this on my hammock inside.” 

You couldn’t bear to look at Sanji, feeling humiliated for no reason with your face on fire, you stepped away from the barrel sipping your water as you made your way across the deck towards the ship’s living quarters.  

“Yeah, that’s a good idea y/n!” Usopp called, giddy from the high that could only come from successfully teasing a friend. “Maybe that’ll help calm down your flushed face!” 

Before stepping inside, you flipped off a laughing Usopp, completely missing the brief look of disappointment in Sanji’s eyes as he watched you go. 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Moon Boys Sleeping Headcanons

Rating: PG •  Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged? • ko-fi •

Warnings: some fluffy fluff, mentions of reader, not beta read

Word count: 861

Steven:

I firmly believe that this man constantly moves in his sleep.

He’s rolling around all over the place.

One of those people that hold their arms/legs up in their sleep in the most uncomfortably looking positions. 

There has been more than one occasion where you wake up and see Steven sitting up in bed, fully asleep, and you have to coax him back into lying down.

He is taking up all of the space, then hardly any. 

He’s got all the covers and then none. 

Side and back sleeper, for sure. Loves to be the big or little spoon when going to bed and will twist himself into the most uncomfortable positions for himself if it means you're comfy. 

There is normally at least some part of him touching you, even if he is out of it. 

You have woken up to him holding your hand or your arm in his sleep. Or curled up into a ball and snuggled into your side. 

His feet are always warm, no matter how cold it is.

Delights in eating in bed, watching TV cuddling with you. (Will tell Marc he never eats in bed with a completely straight face.) 

Once he knows about Marc and doesn’t worry so much about sleepwalking he has the ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime. Literally his eyes are closed and a second later it’s lights out. 

Mumbles in his sleep. It’s never actual words, just little sounds. You video him sometimes to show him in the morning. 

He laughs about it for ages. 

Remembers his dreams in vivid detail. 

Always wakes up with messy hair, no matter how hard he tries or what material his pillow is. 

Prefers to sleep in pyjamas even when it’s burning hot, because it doesn’t feel right otherwise.

Marc:

Back sleeper. Literally lays down like he’s going into his coffin, so stiff it should be uncomfortable. 

However if you’re in bed with him he will snuggle up and lay all over your chest and tummy, and please play with his hair while he goes to sleep. He needs it. 

Doesn’t talk in his sleep, but flinches and twitches. The movements are usually small, like a mini electric current runs through his nerves. 

Pulls a face at eating in bed, will get the handheld vacuum cleaner out and hoover the sheets. “Steven, why are there crumbs here?” 

“I don’t know mate, don’t ask me.” 

“They're those stupid seaweed chip things you eat, you’re the only one of us that eats them.”

“First, they're crisps Marc, say it with me crisps.”

“Steven-”

“Secondly, Jake eats them too.” 

“I know it was you Steven, you always eat in the bed-”

“I’m the only one who changes the bloody covers, aren’t I? I think I’ve earned it.”

“That’s not-”

“I changed the covers last week.” Jake chimes in. 

“You’re right, you did mate, sorry about that.” 

“No problem.” Jake gives him a mental thumbs up.

Marc is just like !!! Where is my apology for eating in the bed? !!!

However, if Marc wakes up before you he will bring you breakfast in bed and purposefully ignore Steven when he playfully calls him a hypocrite.

Sleeps in pyjamas if it’s cooler, but will also sleep naked if it’s hot. 

Falls asleep quickly and doesn’t remember his dreams at all. (He prefers it that way.)

Deep, but light sleeper. Goes into a deep sleep very quickly, but is awake and alert if something sounds ‘wrong’. You once stubbed your toe on the bathroom door and let out a little yelp and he was up and by your side before you’d even realised.

Likes to put lavender and eucalyptus sprays and oils on his pillow. 

Jake: 

Very good at sleeping sitting up and power naps, but prefers you to be laying on top of him if you're in bed. 

It makes him feel grounded to have your weight on him. If you’re happy to lay completely on him he is so content, it doesn’t matter what weight you are, he just loves wrapping his arms around you like you’re his own weighted blanket. 

You buy him a weighted blanket for a gift and he wraps himself up in it constantly. 

Often complains about the cold when sleeping, even when it’s hot his feet are still freezing. He has taken to always wearing socks in bed.

Which leads to a rather amusing sight in August when it is boiling hot, so he’s sleeping naked, but his feet are still covered in fluffy socks. 

He calls them his ‘sexy socks’, and has pairs in a variety of colours. He prefers ones that have loud patterns and colours. 

(I headcanon Jake as a kniter, so I think he would definitely make some for himself as well.) 

Doesn’t usually eat in bed, but does on occasion to affectionately annoy Marc. 

Remembers his dreams, and remembers Steven’s and Marc’s as well. 

Likes to dramatically push you into bed, and throw himself in after. 

Doesn’t move around a lot in the night, but occasionally talks. 

Never wakes up first if he can help it, usually stays asleep while Marc and Steven are up. 

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[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers ( 2 )

synopsis: putting an end to everything, drea thinks she’s totally and completely done with paige bueckers. that is until the blonde is finally honest with her.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: angst and smut. they’re so toxic but also like made for each other.. alcohol use, scissoring, fingering, lots of paige’s hands.

notes: another long one so there wasn’t any major cliffhangers, hopefully this makes up for the wait.. :) also a paige & flau’jae feature because i love them sm.

The morning sunlight filters through the hotel curtains, and she’s sitting at the edge of the bed. I can feel the space next to me where she was lying, still warm but empty now. She’s moving around, getting dressed, and I’m fighting the urge to reach out and pull her back into bed. But I know I shouldn’t.

“You don’t have to go yet,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s more of a plea than an offer, and I hate how desperate I sound. I can see her hesitate, her back to me as she fiddles with her shirt. For a second, I think she might stay, but then she turns to face me, and I can see the determination in her eyes. Why was it so difficult for me to just say it?

“Except I do. We never actually talked… if you missed that part,” she says, and I try to ignore the slight raise in her voice.

In attempt to busy myself, I grab my shirt from off the ground and pull it over my head. “The whole point of last night was to avoid that, Drea. We ain’ gotta talk about it.” I respond, and I’m only half joking, but I still wince at how much of a dick I sound.

She’s serious, and instead of agreeing or starting an argument, she ignores it. “Look,” she starts, and I can see her struggling to find the right words, her eyes glued to the bedsheets. Not me. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to say anything, that I get it, she deserved an explanation. But I don’t want to make it easy for her. Not when I know this is probably the last time we’re going to be like this.

“Last night.. it shouldn’t have happened.”

I furrow my eyebrows. "You don’t gotta say that. It’s not like we didn’t both want it,” I huff out.

She looks at me a certain way, and I can tell she hasn’t put much thought into what she’s saying. But she’s saying it anyway. "That’s not what I mean," she says quickly, like she’s trying to fix it. "I’m not saying I didn’t want it. I just… I shouldn’t have let things get so deep between us. How things ended.. it’s my fault.”

Her fault? She shouldn’t have let things get so deep? Theres no way she means these things, right? She stands there, biting her lip, and I know she’s waiting for me to say something. My throat feels tight, and my mind is a mess. I’m caught between wanting to shout at her, to tell her how wrong she is, and just shutting down completely.

This is Drea. The one person who’s always known how to get under my skin, in ways both good and bad. And now, while she’s standing right in front of me, telling me she regrets how deep we got, that basically, she thinks I cut her off because she caught feelings, I can’t help but feel like a fool. I spent so much time convincing myself that she didn’t feel the way I did, that I’d imagined the whole thing. Now it turns out she was in it too. And I don’t know what to do with that.

I wanna tell her to stop, to not say anything more. But I can’t let myself be that vulnerable, not when I’ve spent so long trying to protect whatever pieces of myself I have left. This is, like, the biggest joke of my life, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

When I finally do speak, my voice comes out quieter than I expect, almost detached. “So, what now? We just pretend none of this ever mattered?”

Drea’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them—regret, maybe, or doubt. It seems like this is the most straightforward conversation we’ve had about the way we actually feel, and everything’s coming to light and an end at the same time. Just as quickly, she pushes it away, her expression hardening, and it makes every dot in my mind connect. “I’m not saying it didn’t matter. It did. That’s why we need to stop.” She’s trying so hard to be the rational one, to be the one who ends this cleanly. But nothing about this is clean.

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” God, I even sound bitter.

She looks at me like she’s searching for something—maybe a reason to stay, or maybe just confirmation that this is the right choice. But then she sighs, her shoulders sagging with the weight of it all, and I know nothing, at least in this moment, would change her mind about me.

“Please take care of yourself.” She kept me grounded when I couldn’t find my footing, and those words just feel so cruel. It sounded like we’d never be speaking again, and I hated that thought.

I nod, unable to trust my voice, and then she’s gone. And just like that, it’s over. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

A few days pass in a blur, and my time in Phoenix is slowly coming to an end. It’s safe to say the events of the city had only temporarily kept my mind off of everything, and now I’m sitting in a bar with Flau’jae, trying my best not to let the rain cloud over my head poke out. She’s talking, animated as ever, but I’m only half-listening, my mind drifting back to Drea more often than I’d like to admit.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I blink, forcing out a smile. “Sorry,” I apologize, stretching my arms out in a way to reset. “I’m listening now. Promise.”

Flau’jae narrows her eyes at me, clearly not buying it. “Nah, you’re not,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “What’s got you so deep in thought? You’ve been acting like you’re here, but not really here, y’know?”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess. Been a long week.”

She studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp. “Uh-huh. And this long week wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone, would it?”

I bite my lip, trying to stay cool. Flau’jae doesn’t know about Drea and me—no one does, really. We made sure of that. But if anyone’s gonna pick up on something, it’s her. I should’ve known better than to think I could just sit here and pretend everything’s fine.

“Maybe,” I say vaguely, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her curiosity. “I just got a lot on my mind, I’m fine,” I reassure, furrowing my eyebrows as if it was nothing to worry about.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning in like she’s about to uncover some big secret. “Stuff, huh? Girl stuff?”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “You’re too nosy for your own good, you know that?”

She grins, laughing a little. “Paige! Come on, spill. Who is she?”

I hesitate, and for a second, I consider telling her everything. But that’s a slippery slope, and I’m not ready to go there. So instead, I won’t reveal too much. “It’s complicated,” I sigh.

Flau’jae crosses her arms, fully intrigued. “Complicated how?” She could be a detective.

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “Just... complicated. Things didn’t end the way they were supposed to. And now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to do next.”

She nods slowly, taking that in. “So, you and this girl… y’all were close?”

“Yeah,” I huff out, nodding as I press my lips together. “Real close.”

Flau’jae gives me a knowing look. “Thats who you was texting last night at the game?”

“Maybe,” I drag out, a shit-eating grin gracing my face. Then I slip up. “I was jus’ too scared to say anything to her face.”

Her eyes widen, and she brings a hand up to cusp her lips. It takes me a bit to realize, and as soon as I do, she cuts me off. Damn it. “Thats why you was hugging her a little too long after the final buzzer.”

“Hey! I ain’ even say a name,” I say quickly and louder than intended, trying to backtrack.

She leans forward, eyes wide with amusement. “You didn’t have to! You gave me everything I needed to know. Paige, what the hell? You and Drea, for real? I didn’t know you had game like that.”

I jerk my head back, scrunching my face up at her. There was no doubt that Drea was one of the prettiest faces in the game, and the fact that she can ball too just really adds to it. “I can show you what these rizz hands can do,” I joked momentarily. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a thing, though. We kept it on the low for a reason.”

Flau’jae shakes her head, holding her lips a little tighter now. “You know what Twitter would do with this? You been out here sneaky-linking and didn’t even give me a heads-up?”

Sneaky-linking? Was that really what it was? “Can we stop talking about this?” I say, half-laughing despite myself.

“And y’all met in high school, too. That’s some next-level soulmatism or something.”

I chuckle, licking my lips as I lift up my drink. The clinking of the ice fills the silence, and I’m able to put a close to the conversation. “It’s over now, anyway. Doesn’t matter.” It’s a lie. We’d clearly went over that it did matter.

Flau’jae studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she can see right through me. But then she lifts her hands up in surrender, a smirk playing on her lips. “Alright, if it’s really over, how about you find someone tonight? You could use it if I’m being honest,” She retorts, referring to the mood I’ve been in the entire night because of my situation.

“Chill!” I laugh, shaking my head as I lean back in my chair myself. “You make it sound so easy.”

She shrugs, and I hesitate, taking a second to let my eyes wander around the bar. A couple of eyes meet mine, lingering longer than what’s considered normal. I’m not sure if they might know who I am, or just think I’m attractive. Or maybe both.

Flau’jae seems to notice too, shooting me a wild and bright smile. “See? you still got it. Just make a good choice.”

The car hums beneath me, the city lights flashing past as I sink into the leather of the backseat, my head leaning against the window. I can still taste the alcohol on my tongue, and my mind is replaying the past few hours like a hazy, disconnected reel. All I can think about is her.

You’d think after a night out I’d at least be able to get the mass of Drea off my mind, but I think it just made everything worse. No matter how hard I try to push her out, physically and emotionally, she’s always there, right on the edge of my thoughts.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovering over her contact. I know I shouldn’t text her. I know it’s a bad idea. But our last conversation on repeat and the emptiness from earlier are making my judgment untrustworthy, and before I can stop myself, I’m typing out a message.

Yo, you up?

I stare at the screen, the words staring back at me. It’s a weak attempt, but I’m past caring. A part of me almost hopes she won’t respond, that she’ll leave me to deal with the consequences of my choices alone. But then I add another text, like I can’t help myself.

Idc if you’re not

It feels like a challenge. Like I’m daring her to ignore me, to stay out of it. But I know that’s not what I want.

I swallow hard and send one last message, my fingers trembling slightly as I type.

You still in Phoenix, right?

The words hang there, waiting for her response. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s from the countless amounts of dirty shirley’s or the anticipation of hearing from her. Or both. I really hope I don’t throw up in this car.

I lean back in the seat in attempt to relax, but I can literally hear my heart beating. I wonder if the driver can, really. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, but I know that if she’s still here, if she answers… I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist whatever comes next.

The minutes stretch out in silence, broken only by the occasional sound of the car’s tires hitting a pothole. I keep my eyes glued to the screen, watching the three little dots appear and disappear. I should put my phone away, maybe even go back to the hotel and sleep this off, but I can’t. I’m too far gone for that.

The Uber turns down another quiet street, and I feel the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. It’s not just about tonight. It’s about all the nights that led up to this, every bad choice that brought me to this moment. The thought of facing it alone is unbearable, and I realize that’s why I texted her. Not because I want her to come over, but because I don’t want to be alone. Or that I do, just with her.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I almost drop it in my rush to check the screen.

Why?

A single word, blunt and to the point. She’s guarded, as usual. But the fact that she responded at all makes me happy enough.

I just… I hesitate, staring at the blinking cursor. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, but I settle on honesty.

Just wanna see you. Is that so bad?

I hit send before I can second-guess myself. My fingers hover over the screen again, and then I add another message.

I don’t wanna stop seeing you fr

It’s more than I planned to say, more vulnerable than I planned to be, but it’s the truth. And I’m too tired of pretending otherwise.

The reply comes quickly this time, and I can almost hear her voice in the words.

Are you drunk texting me right now?

And no, you mean you don’t wanna stop fucking me

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I just stare at the screen, the bright light from my phone casting harsh shadows in the dark car. I can feel the truth in what she’s saying, but it’s only part of it. Yeah, we’ve been physical, and I’m not denying that’s been a big part of this whole thing, but it’s not just that.

No, Drea. It’s more than that. We both know it always was.

You said it three days ago.

I hesitate before hitting send, but I know I have to. I can’t keep hiding behind the bullshit. She deserves better than that even if she won’t appreciate it.

The reply doesn’t come right away, and the silence feels like it’s pressing in on me from all sides. I shift in my seat. This whole thing—this whole night—feels like I’m balancing on a razor’s edge, and I’m terrified of falling off.

When her response finally comes, it’s short.

It’s 2am.

Ok, it’s not ideal. but I can’t stop thinking about everything you said.

And everything I didn’t say.

There’s another long pause, and I can almost picture her on the other end, trying to figure out what to say. We’ve been dancing around each other for so long, caught up in this push and pull, and now it feels like we’re on the verge of something, but neither of us knows how to take the next step.

Then, her next message comes through, and it’s enough to make my chest tighten. It’s hesitant but willing.

Where are you?

Outside your hotel.

Her reply is instant this time.

Come up.

I shove my phone into my pocket and step out of the Uber, my mind on a million as I make my way to her room. Every step feels heavy as if I’m walking through mud, but there’s a part of me that knows this is where I need to be—where I’ve always needed to be.

When I reach her door, it swings open almost as soon as I knock, and there she is, standing in front of me. Her eyes are guarded, just like her text messages, but I can see something softer underneath. Something that tells me she’s just as scared of this as I am.

“Paige,” she says, her voice a little wistful as she fiddles with the door knob. She looks me up and down, almost as if I’m being examined before I’m allowed in.

I don’t know what to say, so I just step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m not drunk,” I state, shooting down her concerns from a few moments ago. She wouldn’t proceed if there was a chance I wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.

She looks at me for another long moment, like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. Then, with a sigh, she steps aside, letting me in. The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I lean against it. Suddenly we’re alone in her room, the reality of the situation settling around us.

“I know I shouldn’t have texted. But I did, and I’m glad I’m here.” I ramble, although still stern.

She sighs, and the curls that fall perfectly over her shoulders bounce a bit. Shes in a pair of short pajama shorts and a long, grey Nike tee-shirt that could’ve been mine. Correction, it definitely is mine. “You’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. We can make it less complicated.” I try to reason.

She stiffens, her breath catching as she looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “I—“

“I’m serious,” I cut her off, my voice low as I step closer to her. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking. “I don’t know when I’m gonna see you again. And I can’t… I can’t leave tomorrow without letting you know how much I care.”

I don’t say it out loud, but the words are there, hanging in the air between us. I love you. And I’m sorry. But I can’t bring myself to say it. I don’t know why. Instead, I just hope she can feel it, hoping she knows without me having to spell it out.

“You can’t keep doing this,” she says quietly, her back turned to me as she walks further into the room. “Running to me when you’re feeling lost. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” I admit, taking a step closer. “But I’ont know how to stop. I’ve tried, but… since you’ve been apart of my life it’s been hard to let you go. I don’t wanna lose you—“

“You already did,” she cuts me off, turning to face me, and it scares me how serious she sounds. There’s pain in her eyes, but there’s also something else—something that makes me hope, even if just for a second. “We both did.”

I close the gap between us, and I can tell it catches her by surprise because of the look she gives me. My hands gently cup her face. “Then why am I here? Why did you let me in again?”

She glances down at my lips, and despite being angry, she doesn’t respond with words. Physicality has always been our response for everything involving each other. It’s all we know. She leans into my touch, and it feels like a birthday gift. Her eyes flutter shut before she opens them again, and it’s enough to make me lean in, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that’s more desperate than anything else.

She kisses me back, her hands finding their way to my shoulders as she pulls me closer, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away. It’s just us, tangled up in each other, trying to find something solid to hold onto.

But then she pulls back, breathless, her hands still resting on my shoulders. She’s looking down, like she’s fighting some internal battle. “Oh my God,” she whispers, shaking her head. ��You are drunk.”

“I told you I’m not,” I murmur, trying to find her eyes and pull her back to me by the waist, but she resists, her fingers gripping my shoulders tighter. Her resistance is strong, her fingers digging into my shoulders as if she’s trying to push away the intensity of the moment. “Please, Drea.”

She shakes her head, eyes still averted. “I can taste the alcohol!” She brings her thumb up to brush over my lips. “I knew it, why the fuck would you lie?” She’s trying to walk away at this point, but my grip is too tough. I won’t let her go.

“No, listen,” I say, more eager and clear. “What I said, what I meant—none of that has to do with being drunk. I’m here because I need you. Because I want you. This isn’t just about tonight.”

Drea’s resolve falters, her eyes flickering back to mine with her perfectly arched eyebrows crinkling up just a bit. “You’re saying all the right things, but I can’t just ignore—”

I cut her off by pulling her closer, my grip firm but gentle on her hips. My thumbs move beneath her shirt, stroking her skin and feeling the muscle. “I know.” My lips are ghosting over her ear. “But please, just for tonight, let’s not think about it.” I press a kiss right below it. “Just be with me. Let’s just be here.”

“Paige..” she starts again, her voice softer this time, and I love it when she says my name. I lean in, silencing her with a kiss that’s both insistent and tender. She melts into it, her resistance breaking as she wraps her arms around my neck. Shes quick to sneak her tongue in, the movement making me wince, furrowing my brows at how good she tastes.

I guide her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she falls onto it with a soft thud. I follow her down, my body pressing against hers as our kiss grows more fervent. My hands explore her curves, skimming over the fabric of her shirt as it rides up, and I feel her shiver beneath me.

“Is this mine?” I breathe against her lips, the warmth of her hands on my cheeks making my face flush a vibrant red. Drea nods, her breath hitching as she catches the look in my eyes. Without another word, I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it up over her head, tossing it aside. The shirt hits the floor, and she starts giggling like a school girl, her chest now fully exposed and daunting.

The sound of her laughter makes my stomach flip, and I can’t help but grin, leaning down to capture her mouth in another kiss. This time, there’s no hesitation, no holding back. Our bodies press together, her skin warm and soft against mine, like it was made for me.

My hands begin to wander a bit too much, all the way down to her shorts. Slipping my hand in, I can already feel how wet she is. She lets out a soft gasp as I trace slow, deliberate circles against her clit firmly. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I whisper, my breath fanning over her neck.

Her body has always reacted to every touch, every word. She’s trying to stay composed, but I can tell she’s barely holding on. Her hips instinctively push against my hand, silently begging for more, but I keep my movements steady, torturously slow and sloppy. I want to hear her say it.

“You,” she breathes out, her voice wavering. She’s antsy, I can feel it—the way her muscles tense, the way her breath comes in shallow pants.

“C’mon,” I murmur, nipping at her earlobe. “You can do better than that.”

She whimpers, her hands gripping my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as she tries to find the words. “Please… I need—” She breaks off, a soft moan escaping her lips when I press harder, right where she needs it most.

But then she grabs my wrist, stopping me just before she can fall over the edge. Her eyes lock with mine, and they’re low, dark, and daring. Three words that are very Drea. “Stop,” she says, her voice firmer now, even though I can tell it’s taking all her willpower. “I wanna feel you.”

The way she says it—so raw, so desperate—it’s enough to make me slip into a trance. I pull back, my gaze lingering on her as I strip off the rest of my clothes, watching as she does the same. Every inch of her is so perfect to the point where it should be a crime, and I want to touch every part.

I lay back on the bed, and she climbs on top of me, her movements deliberate and careful as she positions herself right over the bottom half of my body. I let my hands slide down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist before coming to rest on her ass. I tilt my head slightly against the pillows, mouth slightly agape. I can’t resist giving her a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft noise from her. I smile, and my hands linger there, holding her close as she settles into place. We’ve done this countless amounts of times, and every single time it feels different. Better.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, you know that?” I pull her hips down, aligning our bodies perfectly, and the feeling of her heat against mine makes my breath catch, but I’m still focused. “Could stay like this all night.”

Drea licks her lips, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she adjusts herself, the friction and jolting of our bodies a whole whirlpool of pleasure. “You better,” she whispers back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as her hands grip my legs so she can find herself.

Slowly, she starts to move, her hips grinding down against mine in a smooth rhythm. Every slide of her body against me is agonizingly perfect, and I can’t help the groan that escapes as she finds a pace that makes my whole body push up against her.

My eyebrows furrow as I take sight of where we meet, her pussy flat against mine. The squelching of our juices together fills the room, and I lose it. Maybe the alcohol is accentuating the feeling for me, or she’s just this good. “Fuck…” I breathe out, my hands roaming up her back, feeling the muscles flex and move beneath her skin. “You feel so good. Always so good.”

Her response is a soft moan, her head falling forward slightly as she loses herself. I let my hands slide back down to her ass, guiding her movements, making sure every grind, every brush of our bodies, hits just right. I can feel her trembling, her thighs shaking as she picks up the pace, chasing that high.

I can’t resist teasing her a little, my hands kneading her ass as she rides me, my fingers brushing just along the edge of her entrance, close enough to make her squirm but not enough to give her what she really wants. She lets out a frustrated moan, hips moving harder, trying to get more.

“Paige!” she groans, voice full of need and just the right amount of anger, her breath coming out in ragged pants. “Stop playing with me. I can’t take it.”

My grip tightens, and I keep her exactly where I want her, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, my fingers lingering as I brush my thumb gently along her cheek. “You can take it, baby,” I whisper. “I know you can.”

She looks at me with those pleading eyes, her breath hitching as she adjusts herself, arching her back more. The movement pushes her even closer to me, our bodies pressing together, and the feeling almost sends me over the edge.

Without warning, I dip two fingers into her entrance, the sight too pretty to resist. It makes her gasp, her body collapsing forward against me. Our skin sticks together, warm too from the sweat, and her chest is pressing against mine as she struggles to catch her breath.

Before she can lose herself entirely, I slide my hand to her lower stomach, pushing her back up, guiding her into place. “Nah, stay up w’me, ma.” My voice is shaky with the effort of holding it together. Out of breath, mouth wide open. “Hold that shit.”

She whines out, her voice high and so pornographic. “Mm—oh, I can’t…” Her words trail off into a desperate moan, her body shuddering as my fingers move in that come-hither motion, curling inside her just right. The feeling of her slick is almost too much to bear, making my head spin.

I push through, keeping her steady even as I feel myself starting to lose control. “You can,” I pant, my breath coming out in ragged bursts. “So close, I know you can do it.”

She’s trembling, her thighs shaking as she tries to follow my command, but I can see the strain on her face, her dilated pupils, the way she’s fighting to keep herself together. My fingers work faster, deeper, and she bites down so hard on her lip I swear it might bleed.

Finally, when I feel her body tighten around me, right on the edge of breaking, I tap her ass lightly with my palm and pull my fingers out just enough to catch everything. “Now, baby. Come for me.”

The moment I say it, she lets go, and we come together, our bodies moving in sync, the room filled with strangled noises. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and I cling to her as we ride it out. She’s finally able to fall on top of me comfortably, hand resting on my chest.

We stay like that for a moment, tangled together, both of us shaking with the aftershocks, until we finally start to come down. I press a soft kiss to her temple, my heart still racing (for more than one reason I’ll admit) as I hold her close.

I can feel her hesitance, scared to move or say anything. But I can also feel her tiredness, the way her body sags against mine like she’s too worn out to keep up any walls.

Gently, I shift, moving my body so I’m laid up next to her, our limbs tangling together naturally. My arm stays draped around her, holding her close as she nestles her head into the crook of my neck, her breath warm against my skin. It feels good—too good—like maybe we could stay like this forever if we didn’t know better.

“I want you to mean what you said. All of it.” 

Her words hang, and I can feel her hesitation, the fear that I’m just saying things because it’s easier than dropping the bomb or just straight losing her. I swallow, pulling her closer.

“You’ont think I did?”

“Paige.”

“Drea, I do.”

She doesn’t respond right away, just presses herself deeper into me, like she’s trying to believe it, trying to let herself see us being more than what we are right now without it turning into shit. I know how hard that is, how many times we’ve proven we aren’t made for each other.

“Then prove it,” she finally murmurs, her voice a little stronger now, like she’s challenging me, daring me to back it up.

I nod against her, not sure if she can even feel it, but I know what she means. It’s not about words anymore—it’s about what comes next, and whether we can make it work. “I will,” I promise, and for once, I really believe it.

[viviennevermillion]

oooh what if vidyadhara reader with draconic feature just like dan heng (or feng) who's trying to hide the fact that they're jealous but the tail just gives it away by thumping on the ground like it has a mind of it's own and no matter what the reader does it just won't stop unless you grab it

but like, if the tail didn't exist they would actually believe it cuz their expression is actually very convincing

i was thinking of blade, dan heng and jing yuan back when they were still a high cloud quintet cuz i believe they were so popular back then

With a Vidyadhara Reader

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: thank you for the request! i went with present time for this because i feel like i still don't know enough about their past to feel confident in portraying them accurately.

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: dan heng, jing yuan, blade

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: obvious — taylor trensch

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none

Dan Heng, being a Vidyadhara dragon himself, immediately knew what was up with you when your tail started indicating exactly how he made you feel. Yet, because he wasn't open about his past with the other members of the Astral Express Crew yet, he kept silent, simply observing you and wondering what would become of your friendship if one day you decided to be honest about your feelings.

Dan Heng loves you too, but he's hesitant about putting you on the spot and forcing you to share something about you, that you weren't ready to share with him yet. And besides, that would mean bringing up the whole High Elder thing and he wouldn't know how that would affect your opinion of him. His memories of the past are hazy and he doesn't know who you were back then and what that would mean for you now. Whether it would make you see him with different eyes.

So when he comes back from the Xianzhou Luofu with dragon horns and a tail; the resemblance to High Elder Dan Feng undeniable; your eyes fall on him and you immediately know there's quite a lot for you to talk about

At first it's all about what happened on the Luofu and how Dan Heng felt about the whole thing. But he eventually decides it's time to talk about how your tail had been giving away your feelings for him for months now.

You're understandably flustered, still a little shocked from the realization that he likely knew the whole time. You had always brushed your agitated tail off as "things your nerves just do sometimes" so finding out Dan Heng was always aware you were lying about it was quite awkward

However, Dan Heng is happy the cards are finally on the table. He confesses that he feels the same for you and you decide on just burying the past for a while and enjoy your life together now.

You receive a text message from him the next day to enter his room and you find that he has built something akin to a dragon nest / pillow fort for the two of you to cuddle in. Dan Heng lays down with you in his arms and he places a kiss on your horns; a silent promise to stay by your side and love you forever; his tail intertwined with yours.

Blade is... hesitant about falling in love with a Vidyadhara dragon considering how his last close bond with one went.

Blade actually is completely oblivious to your tell-tale signs of having a crush on him. He'd be entering the room and your tail would swish back and forth and he's way too caught up in his own head to notice. His thoughts are spiraling around what happens if you want him to be immortal too and what it means when you reincarnate or whether you will bring ruin to his life like his friendship with Dan Feng did.

Meanwhile you're just like,,, happy to see him

Kafka actually has to slap some sense into him by telling him about your feelings for him and your desire to love him and take care of him that is obvious to literally everyone BUT Blade. This man is DEEP in denial and half the time he spends with Kafka is her trying to convince him that you're not out for making his depression 10 times worse and that since he feels the same; he should just give the whole thing a chance and enjoy your time together

But these interactions made you wonder whether Blade wasn't into Kafka instead.

So your tail smacks onto the ground in an unnerved motion and Kafka chuckles, leaning over to Blade and whispering in his ear about how you're obviously jealous and he should just give in to his feelings already.

This in turn makes your tail act up even more.

This continues until Kafka one day decides to put you out of your misery and just tell you that Blade has a huge crush on you that he's trying to deny and that he mumbles your name in his sleep while snuggling a pillow, which makes you almost choke on your cereal.

Blade enters the room not long after that, finding your tail completely still from the shock of the information you just received. He turns his head to Kafka, speaking in a slow but annoyed tone. "What. did. you. do?"

This incident ultimately marked the moment you two got together but Blade still thinks Kafka is a horrible wingwoman.

Jing Yuan is the only one out of these three who is not conflicted in the slightest.

Rather, he's having the time of his life watching you talk to him with a completely straight face while your tail is having a solo dance session behind you; something you were unfortunately very aware of. You try desperately to stop it from moving while Jing Yuan just stands there with a subtle smile on his face.

He'll subtly tease you about it as well. Asks you if everything is okay whilst he knows full well what is happening here.

When your tail thumps on the ground out of jealousy, Jing Yuan leans close to you and tells you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, this is before you start dating. He knows what he's doing to your poor heart by teasing you about this. He hopes it finally prompts you to be honest about your feelings.

Even after you get together, the tail is definitely a big help in showing Jing Yuan how you're feeling at the moment, so he can reassure you when he needs to and give you attention when you crave it.

He often pulls you into his lap and runs his fingertips over the tail, marveling at the scales and how you react to his touches. When he notices your tail is sensitive, he chuckles lightly and presses a kiss to your forehead.

Everytime he sees jealousy or a need for attention in the movements of your tail, he makes a mental note to take some time off to spend with you and pamper you with affection as soon as possible.

[rieamena]

wipe my mind, i'd still be stuck on you

kenji sato & baseball critic!reader

contains: fem!reader, established relationship (5 and a half-ish years), going public, petnames, reader and ami are close friends & spend time with her and chiho (ami's daughter), singing, kenji being whipped for you and vice versa, championship baseball game, children mention!!!, emi mention!!! (she's at kaiju island!!), proposal, engagement, fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint hard, lowercase intended!!! !!!: the song in the second part is stuck on you by grentperez wc: 3.4k

people always wondered how you managed to get the most in-depth and provocative interviews with ken sato. without fail, each and every one of your published articles presented the baseball star in a new light. "mr. sato, i'm sure your fans are wondering just how you were able to overcome your slump. some are even saying that you had special help from someone significant to you. so tell us, is there someone significant to you right now?" your eyes captured ken's as you spoke into your recording device. both of you sat cross legged on your shared bed, free hands intertwined, sharing a dopey smile. you moved the device closer to him, squeezing his hand when he just stared at you lovingly instead of answering the question. "i'd say that significant isn't the right word to describe her. actually, there aren't any words to describe just how much she means to me. she's my everything. my sun, moon, sky, and stars." ken pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, his words soothing your heart. "and i'm sure she feels the exact same way about you." drawing circles into his hand, you looked at the gold ring attached to a matching chain around kenji's neck. "eyeing my necklace, are you?" you scoffed and rolled your eyes, "well, what does it symbolize?" kenji fiddled with the ring, twirling it between his fingers. "it's a promise ring. if i'm being fully honest, i cried when she gave it to me. i never thought i could be so close and intimate with someone. i didn't fit in back in LA and i'm still struggling to fit in here, but none of that mattered to her. for once, someone saw me for me. no matter what happens, i'll always stand by her side and i'll always love her." before you knew it, ken's lips were hovering over yours, his hand delicate on your face, as you subconsciously leaned into his touch. "i'll always love you too." it was a kiss full of passion and love. it managed to convey kenji's innermost thoughts and feelings to which you shared yours as well. pulling away from your boyfriend's lips and settling into the crook of his neck, small, blinking digital numbers stole your attention. a quiet giggle escaped your lips as you stopped the recording, "guess i'll be keeping this for myself." ken pressed a kiss to your forehead, whispering softly, "or you could show the world how much ken sato loves his pretty girl."

you sighed, "we've talked about this, love. i don't want to go public because—""you're scared about the public's opinion." kenji cut you off, recalling the numerous times he's had this conversation with you. "ken, its not just that! i could lose my credibility as a baseball journalist!" you professed, separating from the warmth of his body, "people would think that i got interviews from pure favoritism. and some would think that i… offered you favors. …going public might ruin my career and i don't know how i'd be able to…," your words died down as your head returned to kenji's chest, your lips taking in a shaky breath, "i love journalism and i love baseball and doing something that bridges the gap between those two is one of the best things in my life right now." laying your hand flat against his chest, rubbing softly, you continued, "please ken, believe me when i say that i really do want to take your last name, i want to walk down the aisle to you, i want to do it all and i want to do it with just you, but right now," you looked up at kenji, whose eyes expressed deep apologies, "we're both doing so well. i don't want a single thing to knock us off our highs." a couple moments of silence passed before ken responded. "i understand… sorry for upsetting you." you shook your head, "don't apologize. you wanted to know the whole truth. nothing wrong about that…" rubbing the side of your arm, kenji repositioned both of your bodies to be laying down. "let's take a little rest," he whispered, bringing your body closer to his. you hummed in response, snuggling even closer to your lover, wanting to feel his warmth mix with yours. "mmm, i'd like that…" your voice drifted away, body entering a state of slumber in kenji's arms.

"honey?" ken's voice called, "i brought the stuff you wanted!" "i'm in the kitchen!", calling back, hands occupied with coating and frying some pork loin. your nimble hands dropped the meat into the pan of hot oil, watching it sizzle and crisp. "hi baby." ken dropped the bags of groceries on the kitchen island, wanting to wrap his hands around your waist instead. "tonkatsu?" kenji perched his chin atop your head, peering down at the frying pork. "yeah, we haven't had it in a while, and i know how much you love it." ken smiled, one that you could feel. "you know me so well." you smiled back, flipping the pork cutlets to ensure they cooked evenly. "how was your day?" "a bit busy, but it's better now," ken said, his hands moving to gently massage your shoulders. "can i help with anything?" "actually, could you start on the salad? the veggies are all washed and ready to go." kenji moved to the counter, grabbing a knife and chopping board. the two of you worked in comfortable silence, the sound of sizzling oil and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables filling the kitchen. "feels like we're missing something…", you put in the last pork chop, "mina, play some music please." a soft drum beat escaped from the mini speaker kept in the kitchen for times like this. almost instantaneously, kenji looked at you, tossing a wooden spoon from the utensil vase, picking up one for himself as well. "you could wipe my mind, i'd still be—", he sang into the spoon before pointing at you. like clockwork, you finished, "stuck on you." "i climbed the highs, nothin' i—", you pointed back at him, the man in question already belting the rest of the lyric, "wouldn't do~" your bodies got closer, "i'll be holdin' up to every word, every promise that you ever heard." kenji takes your hand in his and spins you around, hugging you close. "i'm makin' up for all the days that passed us by." it was a part of the song but he whispered it instead, giving your lips a quick peck after. bringing your hands up to his face, your thumbs continuously caressed ken's cheeks, a soft smile on your features. a small whine escaped ken when you suddenly stopped your ministrations, your eyes blowing wide. his followed suit, realizing what the problem was. both of you looked at the pan full of hot oil, a deep brown pork chop forgotten at the expense of the impromptu concert. "oh shit, it's burning!"

you walked through the front doors, slipping off your shoes and setting down your bags. entering the elevator, you shot a quick text to ami, letting her know that you got home safely. walking through the curve, you approached kenji, his body sprawled out on the ridiculously large couch staring at his phone intently. sitting up as soon as he felt your presence, ken quickly threw his phone out of reach for the both of you, waving you over. "eventful day?" you nodded, glancing at his phone before looking back at him. "have something to tell me?", you questioned, causing your boyfriend to smile, patting his lap. shuffling over, you laid your head on kenji's thighs, reveling in the plush firmness of them, "nothing my pretty little journalist needs to worry her head about." his hands poked and pinched your cheeks teasingly before being swatted away by yours. "what did you do today with ami and chiho?" ken's voice was light, unsure if concealing his plans caused you to be annoyed. "we went to the mall to get chiho some new clothes—," you took one of his hands in yours, playing with his fingers as you recalled your day, "—i got you something too. it's on our dresser." kenji's hand playing with your hair, occasionally massaging your head relaxed you as you continued speaking, "then we went to a cafe and had some desserts. i had a strawberry cream cake—that's in the fridge—ami had tiramisu and chiho had the cutest mini ice cream. wait." you pulled out your phone, muttering that you had to remember to send these pictures to ami. finding a photo you took of the table adorned with desserts, you handed your phone to your boyfriend, telling him to swipe to see the rest whenever. "after that, ami had to pick something up from a nearby shop so chiho and i just chilled until she came back." ken swiped to numerous pictures you took with chiho, smiling softly, imagining that you were taking photos with your child instead of ami's. peeking over at your phone, you squealed, "isn't she sooo cute? ken, you don't understand!!! she's like emi! …but smaller. and she's so full of energy!" "baby fever?" "...maybe." putting your phone down, ken relaxed his arms on the top brim of the couch, body on full display. "i could give you a chiho of our own." he looked down at you, a smirk on his face, causing you to choke on air, "you—! you!" "[name] sato does have a nice ring to it, don't you think?" "kenji!" "i meant it, you know."

"[name]? i've been calling you for—" kenji opened the door to your study, stopping in his tracks. you were passed out on your laptop, blue light glasses falling off and your favorite pen — the one he gave to you as a 'just because' gift — threatening to slip from your fingers. letting out a quiet sigh, ken walked over to you, taking shallow breaths as he slowly packed up your things and set them at the side of your desk. when you stirred in your seat, he froze, not wanting to wake you up from your nap. gently pulling the laptop from your grasp, kenji looked at the screen. an article titled 'inside the mind of ken sato: an exclusive interview' was scheduled to post at eight the next morning. shutting it closed, ken moved over to your limp body. bending his knees, he laid your back against one of his forearms, his other hooked under your knees. walking over to the loveseat you kept, ken's eyes never left your sleeping figure. he laid you down softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek before draping a nearby blanket over you. getting his laptop and putting on those blue light glasses of yours, kenji settled himself on the floor, occasionally looking back at you as he scrolled through pinterest, saving various images to his 'us' and 'wedding plans' boards. when he felt a hand on his head, rubbing softly, ken switched to a new tab. turning around, he whispered, "you're awake." he didn't expect your eyes to still be closed, realizing that you've been playing with his hair habitually rather than purposefully. "thank you ken…" your voice had the post-nap drowsiness but managed to convey your gratitude. "don't sweat it, princess."

opening your eyes slowly, kenji's face was the first thing you saw, causing you to sigh in delight. "god, you're stunning." ken's lips curved into a small grin, his head tilting. "thank you...?" "no no, i meant it like—" you sobered up after being drunk off sleep, collecting your thoughts, "when you get to re-experience something life changing as if it was the first time. thats what it felt like, like i was seeing you for the first time all over again." ken turned away from you, covering his face with his hands, feeling it heat up. "hey, don't do that! i was still admiring you," a groan escaped kenji's lips as you pried his hands away, "damn, can't a girl call her boyfriend pretty nowadays?" you slid off the loveseat, placing yourself right next to ken. "i like to think i look better from the front angle." he smirked, moving the laptop from his lap to the sofa. "you look good at all angles," you repositioned yourself, your core pressing into kenji's as you straddled his hips. by routine, his hands gripped your waist, squeezing and massaging slightly.  "but i'd be lying if i said front angle kenji wasn't one of my favorites." kenji kept a hand stationed at your waist, the other moving down to grope your ass. low and heavy moans broke from him as you rocked your hips back and forth, giving you both the friction you've been waiting for. "you gotta get on top of me more often, baby. 'can't believe i was missing out on this." his eyes scanned over your figure, drinking it in. slowing your motions, your hands found home on kenji's shoulders. "keep acting like that and i'm gonna have to start going dress shopping." ken laughed at your comment, the implication not fully registering yet. "wait, what?"

the roar of the crowd filled the air as the yomiuri giants claimed the championship title. the atmosphere was electric, a whirlwind of cheers and applause. kenji, bathed in the triumphant glow of victory, made his way through the sea of elated teammates and ecstatic fans. his eyes locked onto yours, and in an instant, he was in front of your premium best view stadium seat. without a word, he pulled you close and kissed you deeply, the world around you fading into oblivion. the force of your embrace caused you to topple over the railing, crashing into Kenji with a fervent hug. "ken! ken! oh my god, you did it! you did it! you were so cool!! you hit the ball like wapow—" you rambled, your excitement bubbling over as you mimicked his winning hit. "huh? where did he—?" your eyes darted left and right in the search for him, only to find him behind you, down on one knee. the prettiest ring you had ever seen rested in a small black velvet box, glinting under the stadium lights. kenji looked up at you, his usual confidence giving way to a nervous chuckle. "you found me…" he muttered, his voice tinged with vulnerability only you got to experience. kenji took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't know how i lived before i met you," he confessed, the words heavy with emotion. the stadium seemed to hold its breath, the noise of the celebration fading into the background as the moment unfolded. your heart pounded in your chest as kenji's words hung in the air. the world seemed to stand still, every sound and sight melting away except for him, kneeling before you. "[name]," he continued, his voice trembling slightly, "from the moment i met you, my life changed in ways i never thought possible. you've been my rock, my partner, and my biggest supporter. every day with you has been a gift, and i can't imagine facing any challenge, celebrating any victory, or living any day without you by my side." he paused, taking a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "you have this… incredible… ability to make everything brighter," he looks away, choking on his words, tears welling and slipping from the corners of his eyes. "to turn ordinary moments into extraordinary memories. your laughter is my favorite sound, and your smile, my favorite sight. you've shown me what true love is, and for that, i am forever grateful." kenji's voice grew softer, more intimate, as he continued. "in the highs and lows, you've been there. you believed in me, even when i didn't believe in myself. you've given me courage, strength, and a love that I know will last far beyond a lifetime."

tears were already streaming down your face, each word leaving ken's lips caused your waterline to fill up and spill over. your body shook, as you took in the view of your boyfriend, wiping away his tears with your hand. "i want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you've made me. i want to be the reason you smile every day. what i'm trying to say is…, [name], can i have the honor of being your husband?" even if you had spoken any quieter, kenji still would've heard you, at that moment, the only thing he focused on was you. "yes, kenji. let's get married." he pushed back a sob, rising to his feet and taking your left hand in his, slipping the ring on your finger. "wait…", you spoke, voice hoarse from all the crying. hands trailing down ken's neck, you felt the dainty chain he always kept on him, pulling it out from underneath his uniform. the promise ring laid on his chest as you unlooped it from the chain and pushed it onto his ring finger, as he did with your ring. flashing your signature smile, albeit more tired, you exclaimed, "there…! now we match!" the sob kenji previously choked back resurfaced as he picked you up and spun you around, your laughter mixing with his. as he set you down gently, your foreheads rested against each other, the world around you forgotten. in that perfect, intimate moment, everything felt just right. "what a way to tell everyone, ken. you never cease to amaze me…" "i'll have you on your toes. no way the marriage is getting boring with me around." "please, it wouldn't be boring either way."

extras —

you dragged yourself into the living room, dropping your bag and collapsing onto the couch with a heavy sigh. "i'm so tired… that article took everything out of me. and he was being so unnecessarily difficult!" ken looked up from his book, concern etched on his face. "you should—oh, i don't know—quit your job." "ken," you replied, giving him a pointed look. "hey, i'm just saying. i have more than enough to support us both and then some. no need for you to overwork yourself like this." he set the book aside and moved closer, taking your hand in his. "how about this? once the season is over, we take a couple weeks off for vacation. we'll travel anywhere you wanna go!" you smiled, the idea of a vacation sounding like a dream. "and if japan needs saving?" ken fell silent, embarrassed that being ultraman completely slipped his mind. "oh right. can't forget about that." you both laughed, the tension from your long day starting to ease. ken's thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand. "but seriously," he continued, his tone softening. "i hate seeing you so stressed. you're amazing at what you do, but you deserve a break too. we'll figure it out together, okay?" you nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "okay. a vacation sounds perfect. and maybe i will think about taking it easy for a while." ken leaned in and kissed your forehead. "that's my girl. now, let's plan this vacation of ours. we’ve got the whole world to explore."

"babe, can you look through my phone for something? i took a picture of something i wore the other day," you asked, tossing your phone to kenji. "alright." catching it with ease, he started scrolling through your photo app. "this the one?" he asked, showing you the picture. you nodded, finding the same clothing pieces in your closet. kenji continued to scroll through your photo app, and suddenly he stumbled upon an album named 'mine <3'. "oh, you love love me," he teased, turning the phone towards you and revealing the numerous pictures you had of him. you rolled your eyes, trying to play off the blush creeping up your cheeks. "don't flatter yourself," you scoffed, a playful smile tugging at your lips. kenji chuckled, encapsulating you in a side hug. "too late. i'm already flattered." he looked at you with those warm eyes that always made your heart skip a beat. you shook your head, laughing softly. "you're impossible." "and you love it." he said, his voice low and affectionate. you couldn't deny it, the brightest smile etched on your face as you pushed kenji away. "yeah, whatever."

whew... its been a wild four days but i'm actually so proud of myself. personally, i love how this came out and i really can't believe that i typed all of this like me??? what?!?! i hope you all enjoyed it as much as i did <33 i'll be doing requests + asks for this so if you wanna see something or know something, send me an ask! love yall <33 ps: formatting this post was literal hell. solely bc tumblr decided to stop allowing me to save in rich text.

taglist <3

@lovingyeet @yellowheartz @darlinggreenwitch @meikoo @moonjellyfishie

[msmk11]

Hiii!! I love your work so much and was wondering if you could do a poly marauders (and lily) x hufflepuff coded fem reader comfort fic 💛 maybe they are just having a bad day, being insecure and everyone tries there best to comfort her? thankyou (even if you decide not to)

Omg hi lovely! Thank you so much for the request. This is actually my first ever and I’m so excited and happy to write it for you! I hope it lives up to your standards - MK <3

Just Hold Me For Awhile

——————————————————————————

Poly!Marauders + Lily x fem!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Cw: low self-esteem, hurt/comfort, sad/anxious reader

A/n: Baby’s first request! Ngl I rewrote this like three times, but now it finally feels genuine and I’m very happy with it. I hope you all enjoy :)

There is no evidence to confirm your fears besides the incessant voice inside your head.

You’re not good enough.

You’re not smart enough.

You’re not funny enough.

You’re not pretty enough.

Eventually, they’re all going to leave you.

You are going to end up alone.

Deep down, you know none of these things are true. But reason is no match for your anxiety and the extraordinariness of each of your partners.

James- best Gryffindor chaser the team has had

in years.

Lily- number one in your class.

Remus- Casanova of Gryffindor tower.

Sirius- absolutely fearless in the face of adversity.

You- the ordinary Hufflepuff who just got lucky.

It consistently amazes you that you ended up in a relationship with these four bold, well-known, and well-liked Gryffindors. They all love you so much and you feel grateful that you get to love and be loved by them everyday.

But no matter how much love and care they give you, it cannot entirely soothe the deep-rooted feeling of inadequacy lurking within. You can’t help but sometimes feel out of place in your own relationship- not because your partners exclude you, but rather because your obvious ordinariness situates you outside their circular of extraordinariness.

It’s a feeling that’s lingered since the four first showed interest in you, but recently it’s been possessing you tenfold.

All these thoughts are racing around in your head as you sit at the foot of Sirius’ bed in the boys’ dormitory. Peter is off on a date, leaving you five with some much needed alone time. The moment is serene, with Sirius painting your nails a soft green, Lily braiding Sirius’ hair out of his face, Remus dangling over the edge talking to you three, and James on top of him, massaging his back.

The four are talking about some recent Hogwarts drama, so you’ve sort of zoned out of the conversation, only adding in commentary here or there.

“I mean, I’m so glad Pandora hexed him,” Lily says, “he totally deserved it.”

“I just never would’ve pinned her as the type of person to hex someone, with the way she’s so soft spoken and all,” Sirius replies.

“She does hang out with your brother and Junior though,” Remus reminds him.

“And Evan is her brother,” James adds with a laugh, “it’s in her blood. I just wish I could’ve seen Mulciber’s face.”

“It probably looked as dumb and stupid as always, if not more so,” Sirius jokes.

Everyone busts out laughing and you faintly chuckle through your anxiety-induced brain fog.

Someone taps the side of your cheek.

“Doll, you there?”

You jolt out of your trance and look at Sirius, “hmm? Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted anything else done to your nails.”

You briefly glance down at your perfectly manicured nails, “oh, uh, yeah. Perfect as always, my star.”

Remus reaches down and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “are you okay, dove? I feel like you’ve been awfully quiet today.”

You smile a little and wave him off, “oh yeah, fine. Just tired, Moons.”

“Wanna come take a nap, angel?” James asks sweetly, opening his arms.

Though you’re not actually that tired, it’s mainly just an excuse, you can’t pass up the offer from your cuddliest of boyfriends. You peck Sirius’ cheek as a thank you for doing your nails and then crawl onto James’ lap. You situate your head on his chest and curl up as he wraps his arms around you. His musky cologne eases the knots in your stomach a little and you try to focus on the steady beat of his heart.

“Better?” he mumbles into your hair.

You quietly hum in confirmation.

You keep your eyes closed all cuddled up with James as you listen to your partners quietly chat. Within minutes of your getting settled you sense movement on the bed. Remus shifts upwards to lay next to you and James- you can tell from the sudden increase in body heat- and you feel Sirius and Lily lay down at your feet.

Suddenly, you feel a pair of rough lips- Remus’ lips- against your forehead. Though he thinks you’re asleep, you hear him whisper, “get some rest, my sweet girl.”

Someone’s head falls on your knee and then you hear Lily’s voice, “she’s so pretty when she sleeps, isn’t she? All soft and peaceful.”

You recognize Sirius’ habitual stroking of your leg with his thumb as he adds, “I didn’t think she could get any softer or sweeter, but here we are.”

“Our angel,” James coos.

Though you suppose most would feel pretty lucky to hear these things about themselves, they only make you feel worse.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself for having four wonderful, caring, and loving partners, and you can’t even appreciate them because of your own self-loathing. You despise this nasty habit of self-sabotage, but you’re not sure how to break it.

As you lay there and listen to them say such nice things about you, you feel a lump grow in your throat and hot tears spring to your eyes. The tightness in your chest is near painful, and you need some relief.

You try to shift just the slightest- as if you’re just moving around in your sleep- to bury your head in James’ chest, out of everyone’s eyesight.

But once you let one tear drop, a whole rainstorm comes. You try and keep your sobs and sniffling quiet, but your hot, wet tears give you away to James.

“Angel?” James asks worriedly. He pulls you away from his chest to look at your face and sees the snotty, tear-stained mess you’ve become.

“Dove,” Remus pleads worriedly, “what’s wrong? What’s happened.”

Your sobs are too strong for you to respond and you can only shrug your shoulders. Your eyes are blinded by tears and you can’t see their faces, but you know they’re filled with concern and worry. To make them worry like this only causes you to cry harder.

You’re not really aware of what’s happening around you. All you know is one minute your in James’ arms, and the next in Sirius’. Sirius strokes your hair away from your face and holds you in his lap like a baby. He rocks you back and forth quietly, not saying anything at all.

It’s nice, not having to say anything and just crying. Even if you had the ability to speak through your tears, you don’t know that you could. There’s no easy way to describe your feelings of inadequacy, and no amount of ‘talking it out’ could ever just solve the problem either. So you just cry. Cry because you’re angry that you feel this way. Cry because you’re sad. Cry because you’re tired. Tired of not feeling like you’re ever enough. And you cry just because you can. Because you know that your partners will be there for you for as long as you need to cry.

And when the sobs finally quiet to a hiccup here or there, you appreciate that they give you silence to breathe and just process everything.

Lily stands and wanders off, coming back with a glass of water that she presses into your hands. You sip it gently before James takes it from you and sets it on the nightstand. Remus goes and grabs a hot washcloth, wiping your face oh so gently with a soft look in his brown eyes. Sirius hands you back to James- your most tactile partner- and settles again at your feet.

Then, with the most quiet and tender voice, Sirius asks you only one thing, “What do you need from us?”

“Just hold me for awhile.”

And so, like many days before, and hopefully every day after, you five pile into bed, reveling in each other’s warmth and security.

As you lay surrounded by your lovers, you know that even though those same lousy feelings continue to reside inside of you, you will figure it out. And when you’re ready to talk, or rant, or cry some more, your partners will be there.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign Down on Me - Part 10

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: sorry this took so long, but i hope y'all enjoy! Can't wait to hear what you think of it 💕

-🐺-

“Gaz.”

You pretended to still be watching the TV while you called on the sergeant. Up till that point he’d been scrolling mindlessly on his phone, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him look up. Meanwhile the couple that had been on the screen were still locked in a passionate embrace - giving you a perfect excuse for your question. 

“You’ve had like…girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever while you’ve been serving, right?”

At first he snorted. 

Finally you turned around and met his gaze properly, steeling yourself against the grin that was threatening to break out on his face. He quirked his lips for a moment while his eyes remained fixed on you, alight and shining at the idea of you wanting to talk about relationships. It froze you in place for a moment, tense at the idea he’d see right through your reason for asking or had overheard you and Rudy talking throughout the week. 

“I have. Why you askin’?” He finally said, actually turning his body fully into the conversation. 

“I just wondered if it was difficult. You know - to maintain a relationship.” 

“It’s not easy. Our jobs make us unreliable, not present - even if we’re in the same place sometimes, tired, grumpy. I reckon my exes could write a book with things to moan about,” he laughed. “To be fair though I could’ve tried harder with em. I think I’m just a bit too deep in the job right now to make something properly work outside of all this, you know?”

“So none of them were other soldiers then?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“Nah. That’d be a fuckin nightmare! Imagine trying to find time for each other while you’ve got two different fucked schedules, then there’s having to make sure you’re not in the same units so you don’t get hit with punishments for fraternisation and all that shit.”

You instantly turned away and nodded, zoning back in on the TV again. The couple were trading sly smiles while they passed by each other at work, the fuzzy music played softly and sent your ears flicking at the sound. It was your hope that the subject would be dropped then, but even you weren’t stupid enough to think that would be that. 

“Why the sudden interest in relationships then?” Gaz asked, leaning his arm against the couch and propping his head on his hand. 

It didn’t matter how much you pretended to love whatever the show was, or how far forward you sat, you couldn’t evade Gaz’s sites. He was there in the corner of your eyes, filling the space like a prowling jungle cat. The only way you were getting out was through the conversation. 

“Well…I’ve never really been in a relationship or had the chance to be in one. None of us hybrids really got on that well at Branhaven and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna shack up with any of the handlers. Now that I live with you guys though, I thought maybe I’d have a shot at having…something someday,” you said quietly, giving him a brief glance back.

“And I’ve just shat all over your parade,” Gaz said, raising his eyebrows. 

“Pretty much,” you answered with a faux huff. “Dick.”

Gaz’s breathy laugh brushed past your ears. It forced you to turn back to him fully, so that you could properly behold the soft brown hues of his creasing eyes. Even in the dingy space that made up the los vaqueros rec room, his eyes were so warm. 

“Have you really never been with anyone?” He asked, letting a hint of a frown settle on his face. 

“Nope,” you shrugged. 

“Ever kissed anyone?”

“Hm…does kissing someone on the cheek in nursery count?”

“Hell no,” Gaz laughed. “Who were you kissing in nursery anyway you little Casanova?”

“His name was Shawn. His family was moving away and he was the only other hybrid in my class, so he was the only one I really played with. We both gave each other a kiss on the cheek goodbye. I was far from a ‘Casanova’,” you said indignantly, already crossing your arms in protest. 

“I’m sure it was very sweet, but that’s definitely not a real kiss,” he shrugged.

“Didn’t realise you were the arbiter of kisses.”

“I don’t need to be the arbiter to say you gotta do it like them,” he said, signalling at the lovers on the TV, “to have it really count.”

“Well shit, I’ve never had that happen at my job.”

The couple were now fucking quite ferociously in the supply cupboard at their work. Paper and trays were flying and shelves were being rocked, but nevertheless they faced no interruption despite the storm they were creating. Even just breathing as heavily as they were would’ve had them kicked out in real life, you thought. 

“So you’ve never fucked anyone either then? You’re like a full proper virgin, apart from your Shawn love affair of course.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Didn’t say that,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“You shagged someone, but you never kissed?”

“It wasn’t like we were doing it because we really liked each other,” you supplied. “We both just agreed we’d scratch a mutual itch and go our separate ways after.”

It went almost exactly as clinically as how it sounded too. Even thinking back to that night where you’d both snuck off to the bathroom together, you could only remember the giddy joy you felt at actually getting off with someone else instead of feeling anything for the other hybrid. Which was a good thing too because it wasn’t like you’d ever seen him afterward. You’d never been sent back to Norway again. 

He’d shucked off his clothes and told you to do the same, confirming you still wanted to do it. He’d so nicely asked “you still want to fuck, yes?” And barely said a word more, only a few “harder”s or “no, like this”. You’d both been pressed up against that cold concrete corner, hands grasping through the dark, and trembling bodies quietly drinking in each others attentions while making sure to stay as quiet as possible in fear of waking up your superiors. He’d been more experienced, so he’d gotten you off first and then he finished, only taking a moment's breath before wiping himself off and putting his clothes back on. He’d left you alone to collect yourself soon after. 

“Well that shouldn’t count either,” Gaz said, after you’d given him an overview of your experience. 

“What? But we actually did it! We both came and everything.”

“Came and then went! Sounds shite,” Gaz groaned. “Shaggin’s meant to be fun. Not just ticking each others boxes and then walking off.” 

“Damn, you’re really not letting me have anything here,” you smirked, refolding your arms again. 

“Because you’re supposed to really want it off the person you’re with, like be able to kiss them and talk and laugh and stuff. If I’d had someone bark instructions at me and then leave me straight after I’d feel like it was part of our job or something.”

“Almost my whole life’s been this job, it’s not like I ever thought I’d get anything like you’ve probably had. When I finally got old enough to even have sex I’d already been working for years. Sex like that is the only way I get to get off with someone,” you explained, trailing off a little at the end when you thought back to Rudy revealing more about he and Alejandro. 

So what you were saying wasn’t strictly true. However it wasn’t like you were going to reveal to Gaz that you’d been picturing you and various match ups in the 141 to a degree where you were struggling to concentrate at least daily now. Every interaction with Price and Gaz had felt charged with a thousand volts of electricity where it hadn’t necessarily been before. 

Price could be shifting you out the way while he walked by you, putting his hand against your back and you’d practically melt into it. Gaz had ruffled your hair condescendingly after you’d gotten the all clear for your hip from the doctor and your scalp had tingled for the rest of the day after. Then there was the phone call you’d had with Ghost…hearing his voice rumbling down the line made your stomach do weird little flips and had your tail wagging the whole time even while he was chastising you for losing control. 

You blamed it all squarely on big stupid Rudy. Rudy who had been training with you on the matts the day before, targeting your sore hip the whole time while divulging little details of he and Alejandro’s relationship.

He’d told you about how they grew up together on the same street. Trained together. Fought together. One day Rudy had almost been killed, trying to protect Alejandro so fiercely he’d jumped in front of a bullet for him. Then after he’d had his shoulder patched up, he’d apparently gotten tired of Alejandro’s lecturing and found a creative way to shut him up. 

When Rudy had suggested you try something similar with your team, now that you were constantly getting heat for your injury, you’d gotten as hot as a lava rock before tumbling off the edge of the matt. Your distraction had been fully taken advantage of by your smarmy wise-ass opponent who’d decided to throw you from the fight. 

“So now that you’re with us, you think you’ll be able to find someone to fuck you properly then?” Gaz asked, pulling you back into the room so hard you were left blinking back at him without response. 

You tried to respond to that with anything other than a high pitched whine. Though you decided to stay silent when you realised that was impossible. 

“Jesus, your face. You’re getting all embarrassed just at the thought. You’re such a virgin.”

“I am not embarrassed! And I’m not a virgin!”

“Yeah you are, you’re doing that thing with your ears!” Gaz grinned. 

“What thing with my ears?” You whined.

“They always go lopsided when you’re embarrassed, one always points up and the other one folds back all awkwardly. Juuust like that,” Gaz said, quickly snapping a picture with his phone. 

“Hey!”

Gaz turned the phone so that you could see. The ear situation was exactly as he described, while your mouth slanted into a displeasured frown and your eyes were set hard into the screen. 

You smacked his phone from his hand so that it landed on the couch. From there you used the opportunity to snatch it up, quickly scrabbling against the old material to prize it up. Just before you could delete it however Gaz dove on top of you, easily overpowering you and prying the phone from your clawing hands. Your back was pressed flat onto the couch cushions, your body straining as his full weight sat on top of you, angled so that he could fend of your legs with his body, hold back your hands with one arm and use his one free hand to secure his phone. 

“Gaz, get off! I’ll bite you!” You protested, voice going squeaky as he kept you pinned underneath him. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed, holding his phone high above your head. “Price would go mental at you.”

“What are you doing?” You huffed, almost getting a bit of leverage over his forearm until he shunted it back fully into place and squashed your arms in the process.

“Taking some lovely pictures for Ghost. The man’s been desperate for  updates while we’ve been away, you know,” Gaz said, clearly typing something while he still fended you off. 

“Don’t send him pictures! Ah, Gaz! That’s it, I’m going nuclear.” 

You flung your head up and licked all down the length of his arm, slobbering down the full bulk of it and sending him recoiling. A satisfied grin lit your face when his phone fell down the back of the cushions. You then twisted your body, managing to use the nasty surprise and the momentum so that you could reverse the position, landing on top of him while he was squashed to the couch. Though you almost faltered when you saw him below you, you still kept a good drip. You managed to hold him there a moment, looking down at him with all your mixed feelings twisting their way through your gut. 

“That’s fighting dirty, Pup,” Gaz huffed, not bothering to struggle now that you were on top.

Both of you breathed heavily, you could feel Gaz’s heartbeat rattling quickly below you. It was pounding heavily against your legs from where you sat above him. Your own heartbeat hammered erratically, growing more wild at the compromised position. 

“I’m a hybrid! I need the element of surprise to have the upper hand,” you said, trying desperately to keep to the topic at hand. 

“Colour me surprised then.”

“And me. What the fuck are you two playing at then, eh?”

Both you and Gaz whipped your heads round at the same time, meeting the irate eyes of Price. You felt your ears lower immediately and clambered off of Gaz, awkwardly looking away while you fixed yourself. Gaz’s smile had dropped, but he didn’t worry about looking sorry. He flipped himself up and tilted his head. 

“Nothin’, just messing around. What’s up, Cap?” 

“I’ll thank you both to not get yourselves injured doing anything stupid, please,” he said sternly.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled, ears still laying flat against your head. 

“None of that,” Price grunted. “I need to send you both off today. I’ve got some contacts I’m going to get in touch with, but I trust that you two can manage some reconnaissance without me. That alright?”

“Course, Sir,” Gaz answered.

You nodded along with him. 

“Good. Go get something to eat and get ready to head out.”

“Is it just the two of us going?” Gaz asked. 

“No. Your company is waiting in the canteen for you,” he said, a sly smile beginning to form across his lips. 

Immediately you got a sense that you were going to like the group you were going out with. Your tail twitched and your ears perked up, Gaz and Price couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. Though when you shot Price a look to confirm your suspicions he leaned back and sobered, nodding his head at you as if to answer your question. 

It’s him. You thought. 

You raced up from the couch and away from the booming laughter, who’s echoes followed you down the hallway. After bolting like a wild stallion and flying past multiple shocked people you burst into the little canteen and looked around slowly until your eyes zeroed in on your target. 

It didn’t take long for you to find the black balaclava, the familiar scarred mouth below revealed so that he could eat the steaming rice and vegetables on his plate. His big body was angled away from you, talking to his mohawked companion and blissfully unaware of the presence about to attack him. 

“Ghost,” You whispered to yourself. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back. As conscious as you felt of all the other people spread throughout the room, you weren’t able to let them stop you from running up to Ghost and wrapping your arms around him and whining.  

“I’m gonna assume that’s you, Pup. Otherwise Rudy’s gotten awfully sweet on me.”

Hearing the low timbre of his voice was enough to get your tail into a frenzy. He was really there and you were getting to hug him. Even better - he soon stood up and brought you round to his front so that you could snuggle up under his chin. His scent filled your whole body, your lungs burned with him. 

“You’re here,” you sighed, adjusting into the bulk of him. 

“Jeez, I’m feelin a bit left out, Pup. I’m here too,” Soap said from behind you. 

“You don't appreciate my hugs, MacTavish.”

“Says who?” Soap said, a smile evident in his voice. “Get over here, you wee shite.”

He grabbed you then, forcing you from Ghost and wrapping his big stupid barrel arms around your body. Even while being crushed you had to admit that you loved the attention. It also meant you got to face Ghost, even if you had a silly grin plastered all over your face and a wag in your tail that wouldn’t leave. Nothing got you more excited than seeing the coy smile he wore just for you. 

“Missed you too, Pup,” Ghost said, angling his head toward your tail. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth in your ears. “Been lonely walking around without my little shadow.”

“Then you should’ve come sooner,” you huffed, finally breaking free of Soap’s arms. 

Soap flashed you a cheeky smile, his eyes glimmering brightly at you as if all his past fears had been allayed. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh. Though you didn’t get to dwell on that for long.

Soon enough you were yanked back onto Ghost by the collar, forced to sit astride his massive lap and face him directly in the eyes. The fact the top half of his balaclava was still secured only made his stare more intense, the bright pools of his eyes practically spitting off heat they focused so hard. No matter how hard you scrabbled against him, he kept you like that, pinned onto him with no other choice but to face him down. 

“You shouldn’t have taken yourself off to the kennels, naughty Pup,” Ghost said lowly, breath hot on your cheek. “The reason I wasn’t here sooner was because I was busy undoing Price’s mess these past few days. You don’t ever make decisions like that without me there again. You’re my responsibility, mine to look after - not Price’s, not Gaz’s, not anyone else's. Do you understand?”

Your mouth went dry, you were still actively squirming in place. You didn’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanour. He’d never treated you like that before. He’d never grabbed you or spoken to you with such a menacing tone. Nevertheless it felt like he was holding your collar like he was about to stick a gun to your head.

Your ears had flattened and your tail had calmed, nervously twitching as it dangled to the ground. After taking a nervous gulp, you nodded. Mood thoroughly soured.

“I just thought it’d be better if I got it over with… Price tried so many ways to get me out, I thought they’d make it worse if I fought it.”

“Yeah? Well I've Sorted it now, I was never gonna leave you in that little prick’s care so that he could hurt you and do whatever he wanted just to prove a point. This,” he said, jingling your handler tag, “means that I have a duty to you, and you have a duty to me. We look out for each other - we’re legally bound together for as long as we live. Part of that means that you don’t go off taking orders from whoever slings their rank around. Okay? Don’t put yourself in a position to get hurt just because you’re used to assuming that’s the right thing to do.”

“Ok,” you said meekly, nodding hard despite the grip Ghost still had on your tag. 

He huffed out a breath, finally exhaling after his tirade and releasing you. All the heat in his eyes died and suddenly they were back to crinkling jewels. You had to blink back at them just to know that you weren’t seeing things. He’d looked so angry…no,that wasn’t really it, was it? He was hurt, annoyed maybe. The way he’d been speaking was desperate, in only the way Ghost could sound desperate. Making sure that his point hammered home. 

Your shoulders sagged and you let your ears cautiously spring to a neutral position, finally summoning the courage to look away from him. The noise of all the other diners floated back to you, forcing you to look around to see if anyone had paid much attention to your scolding. Apparently not, Ghost had been quiet enough so as not to attract much attention beyond a few stray stares. 

“Hey,” Soap said, reminding you that he was still sitting across from you. “You know he’s only getting on at you because he was running around like a mother goose tryna keep you from those wankers in 104.”

You turned to him, grateful for an excuse for someone else to look at. Even while remaining heavy hearted at upsetting, his words had perked you up a little. You could feel your ears raise a little more above your head. 

“Mother goose?” you repeated back, a smile rising on your lips.

“Oh yeah, he was flapping around like crazy. Giving it ‘If anything happens to Pup, I’ll shoot the fucker responsible. I don’t care if its just a hair out of place, mark my words, Johnny. They’ll be bloody unidentifiable!’,” Soap said, doing one of his dreadful Ghost impressions. 

It made you laugh if nothing else. Ghost groaned from behind you, but pulled you further into him, and further into his scent. You breathed him in and sighed, nuzzling underneath his chin and into your favourite spot. Even if he had just told you off like a bad dog, you couldn’t hold it against him. All that mattered was that you were back together again and he had somehow managed to solve your little situation. 

Which did make you wonder…how the hell did he manage to pull that off? And how lastingly mad was Ghost going to be. 

“Ghost?” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“Mm?”

“How long are you going to be angry with me?”

Most important question comes first naturally. 

“I’m not angry with you. I just needed to get my point across. Somehow I’ve got to look after you, but you make it really bloody difficult when you’re always off flying into trouble,” he grunted. “First I’ve got to deal with the kennel debacle and then I’m getting a call from Price telling me you got yourself shot. Feel like I’ve hardly had a minute to breathe with everything going on.”

“Not to mention you’ve got that fuckin’ parade thing to look forward to now,” Soap snorted, pointing his fork in Ghost’s direction.

“Parade thing? What?” 

Ghost was about to explain, but Gaz and Price turned up before he could open his mouth. Gaz took his place next to Soap, setting his tray down on the table before bumping his shoulder. Price sat between you all and smiled to himself when he saw you curled into your handler. He handed you a tray of steaming hot chicken and rice after he’d set his own in front of him. 

“Happy now?” Price asked. 

“Mm, almost,” you dead panned. “Apparently Ghost has to go marching off to some parade though.”

“That’s a negative. We have to go marching off to the parade and demonstration day, Pup. Both of us.”

Your ears dropped back again and you drew back from Ghost’s side just so that you could eye him directly. What did he just say? You couldn’t work out why on earth anyone would want you in a military parade. Your tail was broken. You were awful at drilling. How on earth was this going to work? 

“Uh…say what now?”

“Time to polish up your dancin’ shoes, sparky,” Soap grinned. “Face left! Forward! Stop! Find your center!” 

Soap’s drill sergeant impression, complete with leg movements, landed like a lead balloon. Gaz elbowing him did very little to relieve its weight. You breathed out a bone weary sigh and collapsed against Ghost. 

“Just leave me in the kennels to rot.”

“Now, now, Pup. That’s not the attitude,” Ghost chuckled. “Where’s my - ‘oh thank you Ghost, you’re my hero’ speech?”

“I musta left it behind in my non-parade trousers,” you glowered. 

Price laughed a rich laugh, luckily just in-between eating. The others all sported smiles that did nothing to make up for the annoyance that was plastered all over your face. 

“What’s the big deal? All you gotta do is a little frog marching and a bit of demo on how you work?” Gaz said, trying to reassure you. 

“The ‘big deal’ is that I don’t wanna be a spectacle for the general public to gawk at,” you said sourly. “Ive seen parades, because I’m usually too beat up to be called into them mind you, and they suck for hybrids! We have to dress up all fancy in those silly little harnesses and dumb berets and then we get dragged around like animals on stupid gold rope leashes. Then as if that’s not embarrassing enough they’re gonna make me growl and bark in front of everyone to show off the ‘fearlessness of our fair British troupe in the face of agression’ - no thanks.”

“I hate the growlin’ thing,” Soap muttered, sticking a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“Well it’s still better than getting beat up by the 104 for a week, Pup,” Price said, directing his fork toward you. 

“You say that, but i bet if you were in my shoes and after doing all that drilling had a bunch of stinking civvy kids tryna touch your tail and their dumb parents tryna ruffle your ears - you’d say something different.”

“I won’t let anyone touch you, Pup. I promise,” Ghost soothed. “We just need to get through the day and then I’ll get us out of there.” 

“And how are you even gonna be in the parade when you can’t show your face?” You asked, throwing up your hands at his balaclava. 

“They’re permitting me a neck gaiter.”

“You allowed to wear a skull one?” Soap asked, his lips curling into a bemused smile

“Unfortunately not, I was told it had to be plain,” Ghost shrugged. 

“Of course you asked,” you said, rollling your eyes but smiling despite everything. 

“Well it’s only down to me asking that got you this replacement gig in the first place,” Ghost reminded you before shunting you onto a spare seat. “Now eat your lunch and stop your whining. If I have to hear anymore complaints I’ll make you wear a muzzle. I’ll find a pink sparkly one with charms on it and all.” 

You folded your ears back at that, mouth gaping at the threat. He wouldn’t dare! Or would he? You looked between him and Price and huffed when they gave nothing away behind their serious expressions. 

Only when you started shovelling food in your mouth did they both start laughing and shaking their heads between each other. It made your cheeks burn, but you kept quiet and busied yourself with the delicious canteen food that you were sure to miss on your return home. It was better to focus on that than earning yourself a telling off for glaring at your superiors over your plate. 

“I’m surprised they let you off with a little parade instead of sacrificing Pup for the week,” Gaz said thoughtfully. “Who’d you have to go asking to get that kind of trade off, LT?”

“Well it wasn’t just the parade, I was supposed to go apologise to the father and do a little grovelling too.” 

“And how’d you worm your way out of that one, ay?” Price asked, already groaning before hearing the answer. 

“Who said I wormed out?”

“You said ‘supposed to’ Ghost.”

“Well you see, Captain - the benefit of never showing my face is that no one really has any way of telling that it’s really me when I ‘reveal’ myself,” Ghost said smoothly, a smile apparent in his voice alone. “Ergo, doesn’t necessarily need to be me that turns up to apologise.”

“Oh, you bastard,” Price chuckled. “I’m not covering for you if they work out what you did.”

“No need, I got a message to say it’s all handled.”

-🐺-

The light was just starting to drain from the land, the orange glow of the sun smattered the ground with withdrawing tendrils of light. They washed across the pale dirt, stroking it with their warmth before retreating somewhere behind the darkness. Slowly and then all at once the sky went from orange to black. 

“I assume you’re excited to go home now that you’re not going back to the kennels,” Rudy said, breaking the easy silence that had fallen between you. 

You nodded an answer, but didn’t say anything back. 

The other hybrid had been relatively quiet since you’d arrived, apart from asking what the news was from Soap and Ghost, he hadn’t said much else. He’d instead made a point of exaggerating just how tired he’d been from the night before, only showing you the hickey that flamed up around his collar bone as he yawned and stretched. 

He’d been sleeping for most of the rest of the journey to the watch point. After being out and actively looking for the target for a few hours however, the two of you had gotten more restless, fidgeting and shifting how you sat every few minutes. 

Still, you kept your eyes across the horizon and your ears pinned forward. You didn’t want to mess up anything else after everything you’d been called out for so much already. You were especially aware of the fact that Ghost and Soap were only a few meters from you both as well. This was the last situation you wanted Rudy baiting you in. 

“You ever been in a parade before?”

“No,” you answered, shifting the leg you were sitting on and flicking your eyes out over the ground. 

“They’re not too bad. The ones here anyway, you do a little showing off and then you get some free food..” 

“Do they make you guys walk on a harness and bark at the men too?” You asked dryly. 

Rudy threw his head back and laughed. The sound caused a small smile to break out on your face and you shook your head at him for the disturbance. Nevertheless the smile stayed on your face while you continued to keep watch. 

“You British hybrids have to put up with a lot, hm?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said sourly. 

“I know enough…” Rudy replied, seemingly trailing off as he spoke. 

You looked away from the spot you’d been boring a hole into with your eyes only to glance at Rudy’s face. It took on that serious hard look again, his lips stony and his eyes cast far away. 

“You’ve worked with a lot of us then?”

“A decent amount.”

“Take it you’ve not met anyone half as charming as me, yknow - since you were all grumpy about working with me the first time.” 

He snorted at that.

“None of them have been anything like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have some life about you, it’s a good thing,” you saw him shrugging in your peripherals. “Most of them are quiet, angsty. Half of them look like they’re glad to die when their superiors send them off just to protect themselves. The other half just seem dead already.”

His words stole anymore words from coming to your lips. You knew exactly what he meant - that used to be you after all. The old you would never have done anything like you’d done on your last mission for any of your previous superiors, would never have let the beast inside you rage. You had to be clear enough to protect yourself. You spited them too much to be willfully suicidal, you’d rather see them die instead of you. 

Now that had all changed. Ghost had only just reprimanded you because you put yourself in harms way, but even still you knew you’d rather die for any of your team than have them go instead. With that thought in mind, your back prickled with a chill that shivered through your whole nervous system. 

“You don’t have to tear yourself apart just to be a good soldier, Pup. I hope being with the 141 for any amount of time has taught you that all that doesn’t even matter. We get to have lives too, you know? Get your job done and keep yourself and your boys alive, fight so that you get to come home and actually live. Find out what makes you happy and do things that you like because there’s so many of us hybrids that are used like bullets and so many humans that are so happy to discard us once we’ve hit our targets. Fuck anyone that tells you you’re disposable. We have just as much right to be here as anyone - remember that.” 

You blinked back at him. A faint buzzing rang through your ears, a shrill little hum that tried to force tears from your eyes while it snatched at your heart. A low growl threatened to loose from your throat, bark at the enemy, fend off those pesky emotions. 

No, he wasn’t attacking you. He was just speaking the truth. 

“Do you wanna take over as my therapist?” You muttered, having to clear the lump from your throat before you could spit even a word out. 

He laughed wryly at that and muttered something under his breath.  “I’m just saying… you could’ve ended up like anyone else you got trained up with, but you didn’t. Don’t waste your new life stuck on what things were like. Make something good out of it.”

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Have you had enough?

Targaryen reader x Aemond Targaryen x Aegon Targaryen.

Your husband and brother, Aemond, have been taking everything that belonged to Aegon. You're tired of it, the drop that spilled the glass was Aegon's incident. Your brother, the one who you actually love, badly injured, that was the end of your patience.

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to, I took them from the Tumblr blogs: bbygirl-aemond / Winterswake/ tarth. Grammatical and spelling errors, I haven't watched this chapter of HOTD yet, I just needed to take the idea out of my mind so I can continue with a new chapter of the story (By fire and heart).

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Everybody running and walking from one room to another, you didn't understand at first why all the scandal until you saw a group of guards carrying your brother.

Aegon and you were close, spending much time together which your mother clearly didn't see with good eyes, you loved him in the way you couldn't love your husband.

Aemond took you as a wife and treated you with respect but not love, he never loved you, he simply took you because both were single and your little brother was far away from home to save you from that terrible unhappy marriage, it was only you and him, when he heard about your little secret romance with Aegon, he made you his wife before you could dishonor yourself that was his argument, but the truth was he did it for the simple fact to not give Aegon the satisfaction to also be the owner of you, or your body, silly Aemond never thought what actually mattered it was your heart, Aegon was deep inside your heart. A thousand men could be between your legs but only one could have your heart, loyalty and devotion.

You walked behind the guards questioning what happened. None of them could answer you, once they're in the king's chambers, one of the masters asks you to not interfere and wait out of the room.

- My princess, please you have to wait and let us work. In your conditions the least you need is stress.

You're going to respond when you see Aemond walking inside, he doesn't even stop to see you, you're sure he didn't listen to what the master told you, he walks directly to Aegon's bed. You walk and stay behind him, your tears falling as soon as you see your beloved brother, his precious face now half burned as much as the rest of his body, you're sure Aemond was behind all that, you left the room looking for Ser Criston, you found him on the way to your mother's chambers.

- What happened?

- My princess, I don't know, everything was fast, I just saw the king and his dragon falling.

- Don't dare to lie to me. Did my husband have something to do with this?

He doesn't talk but silently nod at you. Your body is burning with rage, you're furious you would love to burn your husband alive. His thirst for... power? Revenge for the traumas of childhood? Whatever it was, has taken it too far. Your nephews death and now your brother fighting for his life, Rhaenyra claiming the throne, dealing with a war and the pain of her newborn and Lucerys deaths, the poor Helaena trying to accept her son's death too and now carrying with a husband who probably will end as your father ended, in that bed looking the days and nights go until the gods have mercy and let him die.

You've been avoiding Aemond since they arrived, you spent much of your time with Aegon, Helaena doesn't complain, she's okay with it, she always knew your feelings for her husband, she's glad you're taking care of him and occasionally visit the king's chambers to help you or at least to talk with you. Even your mother visited Aegon, but there were no signs of Aemond.

Until one evening, you were holding Aegon's hand, whispering something close enough to him hoping he somehow could listen to what you were sharing with him, when the doors of his room opened, you did not see him but you were sure it was Aemond for the sound of his boots on the floor, you know his way to walk by heart.

- Ao spend olvie jēda kesīr (you spend much time here)

- Se ao spend olvie jēda sitting va zȳhon dēmalion (And you spend much time sitting on his throne)

You don't Even look at him, you're still holding Aegon's hand, contemplating what once was his face.

- Perhaps my wife could support me as much as she's supporting our brother. Your devotion to him is admirable, but it's what I'm expecting you to give me, not to him.

- Why would I support you? All the atrocities you've been causing and you expect me to congratulate you, to love you?

- Are you accusing me of something, wife?

His jaw tensed, his eye looks at you full of anger.

- Don't pretend you're innocent, I know you. You always wanted to take Aegon's place. You always take what is not yours, tell me husband, have you had enough? What else do you want?

Before he can argue again, Aegon opens his eyes, with the few strength he still has, he squeezes your hand.

Aemond notices it and pushes you aside, he starts to talk with Aegon, asking him what he remembers, he insists it wasn't his dragon who attacked him. Aegon simply says he doesn't remember anything, but you know he's lying, Aegon always has been good to keep himself safe, his facility to preserve his own survival and right now his only chance to survive it was to pretend he did not remember what happened.

Aemond was not going to leave the discussion in the air. He left but you're sure he will be back to try to make you regret your accusations.

Just as you predicted, At the hour of the owl, he appeared in your chambers, you were awake, looking through your window, you know how much he hates your indifference against him.

- So, what else will you take from our brother this time?

You say without any worry. Aemond walks until he's right behind you, you can feel his jaw against your head.

- What he expected to claim too. You.

He whispered while placing his hands around your waist, you couldn't contain your laughing, Aemond confusion made it harder to keep. You laughed loudly on his face, you are now face to face with your husband, he has never seen that look, your eyes darkened and your smile was full of evil, giving him a small kiss on the lips, murmuring almost whispering.

- Oh Aemond, do you seriously think I was still a pure untouched little princess?

He stepped back, his face doesn't show any emotion but you can feel his blood boiling.

- I am pregnant.

- Liar. I made everything to be sure he would not put a finger on you.

- Ask the master, I'm waiting for my first child.

Seeing his body tensed and full of anger brings you a new kind of feeling, it's an addictive pleasure you didn't know could exist.

-You know what makes it funnier? Even if one day I have your child, he will be just like you.

- What do you mean?

- A Second son who will not inherit anything. Or even better you will never have a child with me because I will prefer to be burned alive before giving birth to your children.

He quickly takes you by the neck and slams you against the wall, pressing his body against yours, even with the lack of air in your lungs, the pleasure of seeing him frustrated makes you feel alive, excited. He released you and left the room without saying more.

Once you take some air, you smile to yourself, your husband and his poor try to keep you away from Aegon, expecting to have you all for himself, but not even your body belongs to Aemond, he never thought he would be so frustrated about such a little thing like that, not having your love or your respect was the last thing he thought he would care about, the last thing he would desire to have more than anything else.

[kismetlotts]

Kinktober 🎃 day six: Period Sex!

cw: period sex, talk of menstrual blood, public sex, use of 'Good girl', degrading talk, mentions of being owned you and Johnny, mentions of submissive and dominant Johnny, use of 'wearing your blood in honour', mentions of fem receiving oral sex during menstruation but no actual oral sex, creampie, mentions of aftercare and hinted aftercare, mentions of noncon and dubcon, mention of you having his kids, mentions of marriage/wedding

Johnny eagerly dragging you to the toilets of this local pub everyone around work was at. The captain and others were hosting a Halloween party, in hopes to get everyone together and chill outside of the stressful work environment you knew well. Decorating the interior with fake blood splats on the wall and luminous tape printed with the words ‘Do not enter.’ It was clear they had put a lot of effort into the little gathering, special Halloween cocktails and drinks being served, music- but none of that mattered as soon as Johnny set his eyes on yours.

The bathroom door slowly closed after being slammed open and Johnnys mouth slowly withdrew from yours. Ripping off the stupid store-bought black vampire cape, which was a poor attempt of making an all black outfit a costume, before dropping to his knees. Your flustered waffling and poor attempts to drag his face away earning nothing but a sick chuckle from his throat. He wasn’t listening to anything you were saying- he didn’t really care because he’d wanted you for so long and now nothing was stopping him.

Your body shuddered at the cold skin of his fingers, watching as they hoisted your white nurse costume up and over your thighs revealing the pretty little padded up underwear you were wearing- making his coy devilish smile grow an inch as he tugged your panties down. Oh, that’s why you were so embarrassed of him touching you, that’s why you were telling him no. It was that time of the month, wasn’t it?

He figured there was a deeper reason than you just not wanting him because he saw it in your eyes. The way your legs crossed at work whenever he’d walk in for a ‘check up’, the way you bit your tongue when he’d compliment you.

Resenting the urges you got to let him fuck on the job, you were a good girl and followed the rules tightly. No sex during work hours or in the work place. Tonight there was no rules, no work, no colleagues, just people getting together for a Halloween party. Johnny and you were both free to do whatever you wanted and Johnny definitely was not wasting anytime. He didn’t give a fuck about the party, he only came because he knew you would.

“Babe-,” He started but truly he didn’t know how to finish, the embarrassed look on your face making his heart melt. He wasn’t scared of blood, working in his department it would be ridiculous for him to be scared of blood and to be honest, it turned him on. Knowing no matter what your pink little pussy would leak it so shamelessly, it was adorable. Knowing you would paint his dick so nicely and let him wear your blood as a symbol of love and honour; honour to finally fuck and perhaps keep you as his gorgeous girl forever. The girl he’d been admiring for months.

He wasn’t scared of your blood, he was more scared of it not feeling good for you but knowing it would be extra warm and extra fucking wet it was getting harder for him to place your pleasure above his own. I mean, did you even deserve it? From the amount of times you’d pushed him away and told him no? Maybe somewhere deep deep down he liked the fact you were bleeding because his brain would trick him into believing he was the reason behind it. Hurting you and your pussy so much you were crying for him to stop. Pouring with blood he’d caused because you were a stupid, selfish little cunt. He had needs too and he was prepared to go to great lengths so they were being met. He’d fuck you through tears and screams, moans and whines- He just needed to fuck you at least once.

He’d kiss up your legs starting from your delicate ankles, kissing up your thighs and up the rest of your unclothed body until he reached your neck, quickly unbuckling his plain black jeans. His dick already so desperate to bury itself inside of you he felt if it took any longer he’d just have to bend you over and ruin you now. Fucking you rough and doggy due to his own impatience.

“Baby, it’s okay. A little blood don’t scare me- in fact please. Please let me inside you. Please let me make you feel good because you deserve it so much baby- oh yes you do bonnie. C’mon, please.” His voice, his whispers, the pure need and desperation of his begging made your eyes close.

“Please. Help me out, I know you want this.” And when that small nod left your head, eyes meeting his rushed, that was all the confirmation he needed to have his fun. Feeling his rough hands digging into the back of your thighs lifting you up against the wall and aligning himself to your hole greedily.

He was such a pathetic, dirty little loser. A dirty sod for letting you bleed all over him- a dirty sod for fucking enjoying it but after all, you were one too. He should be ashamed, should be disgusted at how his eyes stung with tears at how good you felt.

How loose and fuckable you were- sliding in so easily and creating the most erotic wet noises he’d ever heard. Your blood coating his cock, balls, pubes and thighs, the floor a mess with drips he’d obviously clean up later and he was so glad your eyes were shut right now- you would be horrified at the sight. The white rim of your dress caught in the mess and dyed red which feasted to his arousal- to his thirst.

All vampire jokes aside but Johnny was getting dangerously close now. His orgasm slowly building the more he pounded you against the wall, the urge to fall to his knees again and lap his tongue around your clit. Letting your vulnerable pussy coat his chin and face, reminding him that he’s yours- you own him. Nothing would be better than that but he couldnt bring himself to stop or to slow down.

He couldn’t resist his thrusts and mindless praises that were spewing out of his mouth and into your ears, cumming in deep and filling you up with his warm semen. His legs going weak as his body pressed you against the wall. Orgasm so good he almost dropped you. He’d look down at you, a cute panting mess as you covering your face, your little pussy swollen and probably aching. Your feminine tummy all bloated as you finally settled back to your feet, legs a little like jelly from how good he pounded you and an irreplaceable smirk present on his lips.

Thinking to himself about what a fucking woman you are before tidying and wiping you up, slipping his baggy t-shirt over your blood-soaked dress before grabbing your wrist and taking you home. One day you will be having his kids, whether you knew that now or will find out later. You were having his kids and you will be walking down the aisle and into his arms. You were Johnny's now, Johnny was yours- and neither of you were complaining.

[another-random-paradise]

The future awaits

bringing up the future while you're together

characters: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim

Format: Headcanons

warnings: None that i can think off

Riddle

-You'd probably bring it up while drinking tea together

-He'd go quiet for a moment, deep in thought

-He is so caught up in making sure everybody follows the rules and studying, that he never really had the time to think about it

-He'd be very serious about it 

-He wants to marry you in the future, that's for sure 

-Probably wants a kid or two

-Honestly wants a very typical future, a house, a stable job, ect.

-I'm not really sure what Job he would want/have. Maybe he'd take after his mother and become a doctor, or maybe something to do with politics. I could also see him as a judge, due to his ability to memorise rules, or in this case laws, and his tendency to punish rulebreakers accordingly

-i feel like he wouldn't have preference about wether you work or not

-ALSO, If you are the one to bring up kids and marriage, especially if you start describing it in detail (Like your dream wedding, or what your kids could look like) he'd grow very flustered, very quickly

-Poor guy still isn't used to affection, even if you two have been in a relationship for quite a while already 

-all in all, he'd take the question very seriously. He wants a typical, almost stereotypical, future

Leona

-You'd probably bring it up while he uses you as a pillow cuddling

-He'd scoff 

-"Why are you worrying about that now??" or something along those lines.

- He most likely brushes you off in favor of sleeping

-or at least, that's what he'd tell you

-the question might actually keep him up a bit longer, he's seriously thinking about it

-In his dreams, of course, he'd be king and you'd be his consort, as you rule over the land together, admired by all. But that will sadly remain just a dream, and he knows it

-Instead he opts for wanting a quiet live, where the two of you can just laze around all day, everyday 

-He probably doesn't want to live too close to his brother and sister-in-law, either on the opposite side of the palace, or in some sort of estate a bit further away (idk how moving out as royalty works tbh)

-I don't think he would want kids, too much work

-all in all, a quiet life where the two of you won't be bothered

Azul

-Immediately flustered, no matter how long you have already been dating

-I don't think he'll ever get used to affection

-another one that gets really serious, but this one is really flustered while he talks 

-He'll definetly will want to continue the mostro lounge buisness, just outside of school. Maybe one day take over his mothers buisness too, so she can retire.

-He won't even realise it, but he might just start talking about your wedding, about wether you'll get married on land or in the sea, ect..

-tease him about it, and he'll put Riddle's hair to shame

-tbh he wouldn't want much to change from now, he wants to be with you, keep running a successful business, and stay close with the twins

Kalim

-Immediately gets excited 

-If you're on the magic carpet, you'd have to hold onto him so neither of you fall off-

-Immediately starts rambling about all the things he wants to do with you in the future 

-He wants a VERY big wedding, like the type that continues over multiple days, he just  really wants to spoil you and show the whole world how much he loves you

-He most likely wants a big family, the man has like 40 siblings, he wouldn't be used to anything else

-He's already planning hundreds of party's you two will could hold in the future!!

-He probably won't shut up for a good few hours. Good luck

-You'd have a very annoyed Jamil the next day, because after you brought it up, he would not shut up about wedding plans and stuff. Jamil had to force him to sleep.

-He'd be even clingier than normally after this 

First time writing and posting headcanons, kinda nervous-

Feedback is welcomed, just be nice please!! hope you enjoyed and have a nice day :)

[just-a-creep-babe]

Are your requests still open? I'm not sure about your time zone so I hope it's ok if I ask how would you think relationships with the creeps would be realistically? Like how would Jeff, Masky, Ej, and Ben act if they were real and actually interested enough to date someone? I was just interested in your interpretation since I really enjoy how you write them! ✨

I feel like I’ve maybe gone over a few of these points before but I can’t remember for certain 😬

Either way, I hope none of these were too repetitive!! And tysm!! 🥰🫶

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Jeff the Killer

It’s no secret this guy’s crazy egotistical

So as soon as he sees someone he’s interested in, it's like he just needs to have them

They’re an ego boost; a prized trophy that further proves he’s better than everyone else

He almost doesn’t see them as a full person, but more of a commodity

Really, it doesn’t matter whether or not they want the relationship—as far as he’s concerned, he knows what’s best for them

And, coincidentally, what's best for them is him

He's a super controlling partner

Literally the embodiment of your body, my choice

Part of him expects his s/o to pliantly conform themselves to his every whim and desire

But the other part secretly thinks it’s super hot when they talk back to him

He's always liked the feisty ones, and it gives him the perfect excuse to put them back in their place~

In terms of emotional intimacy, his partner really shouldn't expect much

Jeff mentally blocks all of that kind of stuff out, and he thinks people who are open about it are weak

At best, he'll ignore his partner's efforts to connect with him on a deeper level

And at worst, he'll belittle them and use their vulnerabilities against them as a manipulation tactic

So it's overall best to keep some amount of emotional distance from him, in all honesty

The plus side to dating Jeff is that he's super protective

To the point of it being suffocating, so it isn't all that much of a positive, but I digress

Since he sees his partner as his possession, and since he's very protective of his things, he'll be damn sure nothing bad happens to them

And everyone better damn well know that they're off-limits or he will remind them by carving it into their skin

At the end of the day, Jeff primarily wants sex, first and foremost

And secondly, he wants someone that'll inflate his ego; either by being a pretty piece of eye candy by his side or by constantly gushing over him and blowing smoke up his ass

Deep down, he does want someone to care for him—someone he could love and trust, and who would protect him as much as he'll protect them—but he's way too emotionally damaged to even admit he wants that

He definitely doesn't make it easy to love him

BEN Drowned

Honestly, a relationship with him would be relatively chill

All he really wants is someone to fuck and hang out and game with

He does have a dark side, which manifests as possessive/obsessive behaviors and manipulative tendencies, and a good dose of neediness to top it all off

But it's to be expected

And, really, if his s/o just behaves and gives him all of their love and attention, then it's not like they have anything to worry about, anyway

As long as they game with him every night for at least 3 hours, have sex with him a minimum of 4 times a week, answer his texts within 10 minutes, and never spend more time with someone else, then everything's fine

He's prone to spying on them through their devices, especially if they don't do the above-mentioned things to his liking

And he'll use anything in his arsenal to ensure that they stay wrapped around his little finger

Like I said, super needy and manipulative

He'll fuck with their self-esteem, their worldview, their perception of the people around them until they can't imagine living without him

He'll become their world; he wants their life to revolve around him and him only

And if things don't go his way, it'll only get worse

Much worse

He's not above eliminating anyone he's jealous of, or even isolating his partner until they don't have a choice but to accept him back into their lives

He will fully turn psycho if he, for whatever reason, thinks that he might be losing his partner

But until that time comes, until the relationship reaches that point, it'll all be smooth sailing

He's smart enough to know just the right amount to push things to keep the relationship afloat for as long as possible

Which, despite being one of the chillest partners on a surface level, quickly makes him one of the most dangerous ones when things go south

He'll stop at nothing to keep the person he likes

And his partner will never be any the wiser of the darkness that lurks behind his easy-going intentions

They better hope they never reach the tipping point that reveals his true nature

Eyeless Jack

He's actually the chillest creep to be in a relationship with

Unlike the others, Jack firmly clings to those remaining scraps of humanity within him

If he hadn't been transformed, he'd be a perfectly fine and well-adjusted member of society

So a relationship with him would be like, well, any other relationship with a normal person

He has his emotional hangups here and there, and he isn't perfect; he struggles with communicating his feelings and intentions, and he can close himself off when he's following down

But that's par for the course as far as relationship difficulties go

The biggest issue that'll come up that probably doesn't have a Buzzfeed article to help you out is dealing with his demonic side

But even then, he's gotten fairly good at controlling himself, so it'll never be too disruptive—as long as his partner keeps an open mind about the whole thing

He'll be more possessive, and he'll get jealous more easily, but he'll never lash out at his partner because of it

If anything, if he smells someone on his partner, he'll just want to scent them—so all he needs is some physical contact to reassure him

He can get insecure about his nature from time to time, but again, a bit of reassurance goes a long way

Honestly, the most dangerous thing about dating Jack is probably his urge to mark his partner

Marking a human has a few... complications, to say the least

He's naturally bound to get more possessive and much more sexually needy, which could lead him to injure his partner

But, you know, that's just part of the risks that come with dating a demon hybrid

A relationship with Jack has its ups and downs, which honestly might get more intense than a regular human relationship, but even then, a lot of humans are far crazier than Jack, even despite his nature

Even though he deals with some pretty powerful entities, he'll make sure his s/o is safe at all times—no one will ever be able to hurt them

And even though he's a cannibal, he'd probably be too protective of them to take a nibble out of them

Like, sure, he'd love to taste them—and he'd be willing to bet they taste divine—but even if they'd be open to trying it, he wouldn't want to risk it

Overall? 10/10, can not recommend dating this man enough

Masky

Masky's very hot and cold in a relationship

The stress of work combined with the physical and mental strain of being in Slender's proximity all the time does not make things easy for him

He's prone to lashing out, closing himself off, abusing whatever substance he can get his hands on, and generally spiraling out of control

Which does not make it easy for his s/o

Since Slender took an interest in him when he was still fairly young, he's almost always had symptoms of the Slender Sickness, so he's not super experienced with long-term relationships

Meaning that alongside dealing with his mood swings, his partner will also have to guide him through the ups and downs of dating

Which is just a whole extra set of difficulties his s/o will have to face

Being in a relationship with Masky really isn't easy

But the thing is, when things are good with him, they're really good

It's like he only knows how to operate on extremes; his lows are incredibly low and his highs are intoxicatingly high

When he's on a high, he'll make his partner feel like they're on top of the world

Nothing can get in the way of pleasing his partner; not time or money or even the boundaries of the law

He'll shower them with attention and affection, he'll take them on once-in-a-lifetime experiences—he'll make them feel truly heard and loved

Their connection will be like none other; he'll make them feel like they've conquered the world together

But when he's on a down, honestly, his partner might just be better off ignoring him until he gets better again

Which could take weeks or even months

But ultimately the distance will likely be better than being around him when he's going through it

Because although he isn't proud of it, he may get violent and even abusive without necessarily meaning to

And once he snaps himself out of it, he'll be upset to the point where it'll make him spiral even lower

And once he's over it, he'll be right back to gift and love-bombing them all over again because it's his way of apologizing and making sure he won't lose them

As great as things could be with him, and as addictive as he might get, his partner should keep some kind of distance from him—for their own sake

[shuenkio]

Dirty Boy | ▹ Lhs

▹Paring: Heeseung X male!reader. ▹Genre: soft smau.

▹Cw: mentioned masturbate, cum, dirty, cursing, public masterbation.

▹Synopsis: Your buddy wants your help.

▹Non proof read|▹wc:1.6k

▹Eng is not my 1st lang | do not copy.

▹Aln: I'm still improve how to write a good SMAU one, so I'm making a way to make it please don't expect too much :').

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Been a buddy for life ever since you were young together with Evan Lee or Ethan Lee. That's what everyone called him.

Whenever there's a party or hangout, even if it's not related to you, he'll still ask you to invite him just so you can socialize and accompany him. He just loves to awkward you with the outside environment.

Later on, coincidentally, both of you and Hee got into the same college with the same major and the same dorm. And you were glad that you didn't have to live with the new face because you were an anti-social human. To your surprise, the Heeseung you've seen every day was the half-surface of him from his inside.

He was actually the most unpredictable man you've ever met after living with him for a few months. You thought man would always be man, even though you are also a man, but politely dirty. For Evan? He was two times worse.

There was a time you saw his stained underwear splattered all over the floor, his sweaty shirts, and his unwashed pants, just like teenage kids. No matter how hard you've tried to scold him or tell him those, he was free to care about your words. Laterally, water spilled on a duck's head.

Not long after, this is getting worse. You have known that Heeseung was a gamer addicted and would play in front of the computer screen for hours; however, instead of playing games, sometimes you hear a moaning, whimpering noise echoing through the ceiling from his room to the kitchen. And it's none other than his alone time, masturbate.

It's not like you were disgusting, yet it's just bad timing whenever he faps his meat. Your mom was face-timing you while you were cutting the vegetable for lunch, but the huffing sound was so loud that your mom got suspicious of you, and in return, you had to end the call in a sec. That's one of the memories you still left traumatized.

For now, you've made up your mind to have a conversation with the growth-ass man, Heeseung. Once you finished your work, you quickly dragged your feet to his room before knocking, in case you interrupted him again.

You enter the room, and while he was sitting back facing you, both of his hands were placed on the mouse and keyboard, as his ear was covered with a headphone, blocking all the noise.

"Hey EVAN!" You yelled, holding your waist as your blood boiled in response to the silent response.

"..." Unable to wait any longer, you take off his headphones suddenly before you unplug the computer. The moment you did that, you've now gotten all the attention from him.

"M/N, what's your problem? I'm in the middle of the  game." He fired out as he spoke, almost shouting at your unexpected move.

"We need to talk!" You reply back with the seriousness in your expression, which calms the nerves in the Heeseung vein in a blink of an eye.

"Talk about what?" Exhale the deep breath out as he lay on his palm on the table, still holding on to his non-care attitude.

"I need you to change your childish behavior, Evan! Not only did you pressure me, but the whole damn dorm started to smell like you." You spoke, and as a result, you got an eyebrow raise from him.

"I live here."

"THAT'S NOT THE POINTS—ok, let's say this, you're dirty!" You implied honesty; speak out what's on your mind. Straightforward to the point this time, as he was a little taken aback by your comment.

"You never wash your laundry, your clothes, especially your damn underwear? Are you even an adult at this point? I'm telling this because it's for your own  good." You scolding, all the bad things he had done that drove you nuts, but they're still in the basket. Heeseung seemed to be quite after these; his gaze didn't even focus on you, lingering on the shorts you were wearing, probably daydreaming about something you clearly couldn't imagine.

"HEY HEY! Are you even listening? At least be guilty for your action."

"I don't know, but that short look better be off; it's distracting."

"You pervert, STFU, what got into you, ugh?"

////

A week had passed, and Heeseung started to change because of your nagging all day. And it turned out pretty well. He then began to wash his clothes, do the housework, clean his room, and do many other things. It's brought a smile to your face to see him being a good friend or human for once, maybe.

Today at the weekend, since your groceries have been out ever since yesterday, you suggest Heeseung come with you for shopping, which he can't decline.

All he did was carry the groceries and nothing else, while you were having a hard time choosing the food that both of you needed and wanted to eat for a week.

Finally, you're done with the shopping. After you finish paying for the items, you feel like you want to go to the restroom.

You then told Heeseung about it; if it's happened, he'd be looking for you or waiting for you because of you. Nevertheless, he also wanted to go to the restroom, which made it awkward.

In the bathroom.

Making your way into the room, you couldn't wait to unleash your pee, which you've been urging to release into the urinal toilet. You believe that Heeseung will give you privacy; he will pee across from you, although the next thing you know, he is seen beside you.

"Oh, for god's sake, do you not feel ashamed or embarrassed? I'm peeing!!" You claim, almost irritated by his unpredictable action, did he want to show his dick or what?

"We're friends; there's nothing to hide anyway, even this!" Heeseung responded by stepping back a little so you can see his full aroused cock, spring-free from his underwear. And it was... Dripping—

"What in the actual hell?" You are speechless at what you encounter. Is that your friend's cock? In front of you? In a public space like this? No fucking way.

The size of his full, hard cock painted a messy red blush stain on your face. His balls were round and stretched with those little hairs. Meanwhile, his mid-size cock was uncut, and the ash pink head is pecking from the foreskins, and it's twitching from your point of view. Kinda smells (all men smell from their hormones).

Fail to make any word out of your mouth, you look around before looking at his face in disbelief. Why did he blush? His eyes were half-lidded. As if he were holding on to something.

"Are you out of your mind, Evan?" We're in public!! Not at  home." You quickly look away, pin both of your visions to the entrance, having an anxiety that someone could come in, misunderstood to this.

"M/n... Could you spare me a hand? I can't go out like  this." He covered his eyes; his tone was almost desperate because he couldn't take any longer to pleasuring.

"Why can't you?"

"I would, but I want your hand instead," he finally stated, thirsting for your touch because touching yourself is not enough. You need somebody's help; it's better.

I couldn't even leave any comments. Someone is coming in as you harshly push him into the bathroom stall, with you inside too. With the rush decision, now you're stuck with him, with his distracted cock, jiggling non-stop.

People come in to do their business in the bathroom. It's normal for people to pee and poop, isn't it? On the other hand, the heat started to drive Heeseung nuts since his cocks often rub on your clothes because of how close you are to him, fearing someone might see you two inside.

The idiot heeseung he is, and the pleasure he's holding in can't be left inactive. Heeseung is then making an unacceptable dare for you in a situation like this.

If you don't jerk him off, he will moan loudly in this tight stall. You were furious at his dare as you glared at him with your piercing eye that was about to fall out.

Though it's the only choice right now, to prevent him from doing the nasty shit that could lead to misunderstood.

Biting the lower lip, you hurry take out Heeseung's cock out of his underwear, fully free to get more access.

Without further ado, you began your ritual. Taking a hold of his testicles before you spit your Silva on them, you started giving him the hand job without any warning.

The most sensitive part of man was the tip. As an experienced person, you focus on around the tip of his so he would cum faster.

The speed of your hand makes Heeseung thrust out his hip while his hands are holding on to the walls. The pleasuring almost left gasps out of his throat. His toes are curling together at the sensation of your touch.

"Right there, m/n, give it... *huff* your all, Ngh." Fap fap, the wet sounds are also making you slightly horny. Sliding up and down nonstop, holding his cock just like your own, You then increase the speed and continue to jerk him until the end.

To the point where he bit his sleeve because of the overwhelming sensation he is experiencing right now.

"Too good, I'm cumming!! Holy fuck" as you masturbate till he feels the orgasm in his cock is building, at the same time with the magic hand of yours, making him squeak. Shooting out the sticky, wet cum, stained all over your palm.

"Er—sss, I feel numb. You're too good. M/N, I'm ascending." He said it with his shallow breath, still catching on to it as he laid his head against the wall behind, closing his eyes, drained out already.

"This is unbelievable, damn it." You stared at the orgasms, that dripping on your hand as you disgusted at them. But at least he doesn't have any crazy ideas this time. This was enough to traumatize you once again.

And that's your friend, Heeseung.

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🗣️ Please mind my English! ><

🗣️Crd to all pics&dividers