#like i couldn’t sleep because of how worried i was.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Chosen p.t 2 || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader love island au

Summary: read part one here

Warnings: angst

Word count: 1,173

A/n: help i forgot i had this in my queue LOL mb!!!

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, Rafe’s absence a hollow ache beside you. You’d grown used to the warmth of his arm around you, the gentle rise and fall of his chest that lulled you to sleep each night. Without him, the bed felt colder, lonelier, and you couldn’t shake the memory of Kayla’s confident words as she chose him, as if she held a secret you didn’t.

Leah rubbed your arm in comfort, her eyes softening. “Yeah, must be tough after last night. The whole situation was shit. I don’t know what Kayla was thinking.” You managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Neither do I, honestly. Rafe said there was nothing to worry about, but then she just… picked him. It just doesn’t make sense.”

You caught Sofia’s gaze, and she gave you a small, reassuring nod. “Maybe it’s not as deep as it seems,” she offered. “Maybe she just picked him because he looks good on paper—he’s confident, attractive, all that. She probably just wanted attention.” You nodded, trying to take comfort in her words, but the unease still simmered.

You nodded, trying to find comfort in her words, but the uncertainty still twisted inside you. Rafe had reassured you last night, had looked you in the eyes and held your hand with that steady, familiar touch that always made you feel seen. But now, with the memory of Kayla confidently choosing him and the doubt simmering beneath, it was harder to trust that feeling.

Leah’s voice broke the silence, softer now. “Have you talked to him about it?” You sighed, closing your eyes briefly as if that might ease the knot in your chest. “He tried last night. But I… I couldn’t. I was too hurt, too angry. I didn’t even know if I could believe him.”

Sofia’s hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think he’s probably feeling the same, People make decisions that don’t always make sense because they’re worried about what everyone thinks.” You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to steady your breathing.

Maybe they were right—maybe it was all just the game getting in your head, Kayla’s pick a calculated move, an attempt to create drama or stir things up. But the memory of Rafe looking away as Sophie announced your single status felt too raw to ignore.

~

Later that morning, as you sat in the makeup room, humming softly to yourself as you applied your skincare, a knock sounded at the door. The other girls exchanged glances, then called out, “Yeah, we’re dressed!” The door creaked open, and Rafe peeked in, his gaze instantly landing on you. He lingered in the doorway, holding a tray with coffee and breakfast.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his expression somewhere between hopeful and tentative. “Brought you breakfast.“ You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. “Thanks,” you replied softly, surprised at how sincere he looked, how he seemed to truly want to make up for the night before. He set the tray down beside you and took a step back, as if unsure whether he should stay.

“Could we… talk?” he asked, his gaze flickering to the other girls, who quickly exchanged sympathetic glances. Leah gave you a small nod, then ushered everyone else out with a quiet, “Alright, let’s go, girls.” You sent her a grateful look as they slipped out, leaving you alone with Rafe.“Can I sit?” he asked, watching you closely, his eyes searching for any sign of welcome.

You nodded, and he pulled up a chair, watching you as you took a sip of coffee. It was exactly how you liked it, and that little detail twisted something in your chest. Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to meet your eyes.

“I need you to believe me,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I swear, I didn’t think she’d actually pick me. I thought I’d made it clear I wasn’t interested.” You looked away, biting down on the emotions that threatened to spill over. “Rafe, you don’t understand. You were there, comforting me, telling me everything was fine… and then she chose you. It felt like a slap in the face.”

He nodded, his expression pained. “I know. And I’m so sorry. I tried to make it clear to her, but I should’ve done more. I shouldn’t have let her think there was even a chance. I just… I don’t want to lose you over this.” For the first time, his words began to chip away at your hurt. His eyes held that raw sincerity, the vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see.

And as much as you wanted to cling to the anger, to shield yourself from the fear of being hurt again, a part of you knew he was being honest. You bit your lip, studying his face as he spoke, trying to gauge his sincerity. He looked back at you, a hint of desperation in his gaze that you couldn’t ignore. “You have to believe me,” he continued, voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want anyone else. It’s just you.”

Your shoulders relaxed, the anger ebbing slightly, though the doubt was still there. “Okay, Rafe,” you said finally, your tone soft but uncertain. “But actions speak louder than words. If you really mean it, you’ll have to prove it.” He nodded earnestly, relief flickering in his eyes as he reached for your hand.

“I will,” he promised. “I’ll prove it every single day if I have to. Just… give me a chance.” You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, then smiled—a genuine, soft smile that reminded you of all the moments that had made you fall for him in the first place. “Finish your breakfast,” he murmured, nodding toward the tray. “I’ll be right here.”

[goblin-jr]

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you.

part 5 of 12

Synopsis: Morning confrontations bring afternoon coffee showers? Dealing with the aftermath of the bonfire

Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader

Warnings: luke being a shitty dad

masterlist

----

The morning sun filtered through the wide-open windows of the Chateau, casting lazy golden beams over the worn but welcoming space. Y/N had woken up early, unable to sleep much after the emotional rollercoaster of the previous night. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was distant but soothing, a sharp contrast to the unease she still felt in the pit of her stomach.

She had wandered into the living room of the Chateau, the place the Pogues often gathered, now quiet after the chaos of the bonfire. The remnants of last night's party—the beer cans, half-empty bottles, and scattered towels—were strewn across the floor, evidence of the good times they’d shared. But the joy from last night felt distant now.

Y/N settled into one of the couches, looking out at the ocean. She was lost in her thoughts when she heard the soft creak of footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Kiara walking in, wearing her usual calm expression, though Y/N could tell her friend had already sensed something was off.

“Hey,” Kiara said gently, taking a seat beside Y/N. She looked out at the water, then back at her. “You alright?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to start. She had been so caught up in her emotions last night, trying to laugh it off, but now, in the quiet aftermath, the weight of it all was harder to ignore. She bit her lip, looking down at her hands.

“I just… I don’t know,” Y/N started, her voice quieter than she intended. “Last night, the way they all were talking… I mean, it’s nothing new, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Kiara’s expression softened. “The jokes about you not hooking up with anyone?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. It’s like, they don’t see me as a girl at all. Just one of the guys. And I know I’ve always been… the bookworm, or whatever, but it’s different now. I don’t know why, but it just hurt last night. I wanted to be seen, you know? I’m not just ‘one of you.’”

Kiara let out a sigh, clearly understanding the struggle Y/N was dealing with. “You’ve always been one of us, Y/N. The Pogues, we’re a family. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated like more than just the ‘girl version’ of one of the guys. You’re allowed to feel that way.”

Y/N turned to Kiara, her eyes searching for reassurance. “But why does it feel like I’m always in the background? Like no one really notices me for who I am, just… who I’ve always been to them.”

Kiara gave her a small, knowing smile. “Because it’s easier to see you as the bookworm, the one who’s always steady and reliable. It’s easier than admitting that you might want something more. But you deserve that, Y/N. More than anyone else.”

Just as Y/N was about to respond, the door to JJ's honorary bedroom opened, and JJ walked in, his hair still messy from the night before, his signature carefree grin on his face. He paused for a moment when he saw them, then sauntered over to the couch, plopping down beside Kiara with a playful look.

“Good morning, ladies,” JJ said, his voice light and teasing. “I see we survived the bonfire chaos.”

Kiara rolled her eyes. “You look like you survived a tornado.”

JJ chuckled. “The waves were rough last night. But I made it through, don’t worry.”

Y/N couldn’t help but give a small laugh, but the knot in her stomach tightened again when she remembered the night before. She glanced at him briefly, her heart still doing that strange flutter whenever she saw him, even though she’d tried to shake off her feelings for him.

“Did you have fun last night?” Kiara asked, her voice casual, but Y/N could sense there was a little more to it.

JJ grinned. “Yeah, met a tourist. She’s cool. Gonna show her around today.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt a sudden pang of jealousy that she couldn’t ignore. Of course, JJ would find someone else to hang out with. He always did.

She didn’t say anything, though. Instead, she glanced out the window again, her mind racing. As if on cue, the door to the spare room opened, and a girl Y/N didn’t recognize stepped out. She was smiling, stretching as she made her way toward the kitchen, clearly in no rush to leave.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed instinctively. That was the tourist. The one JJ had been flirting with last night. She felt her chest tighten as the reality of her situation hit her harder than before.

Kiara must have noticed the change in Y/N’s expression because she shot a quick glance between her and JJ. “Everything okay?” she asked softly, but there was an underlying understanding in her voice.

Y/N didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she just nodded, trying to hold back the hurt and confusion she was feeling. JJ was already looking toward the door where the girl had gone, clearly not noticing the subtle shift in Y/N’s mood.

But then, he turned to her and noticed her distant expression. He gave her a questioning look, and for a moment, their eyes met. Y/N wasn’t sure what to do with the way his gaze lingered on her—whether it was concern or curiosity—but it only made her feel even more unsure of where she stood.

The awkward silence was broken when Kiara spoke up again, her voice a little firmer than before. “You should talk to him, Y/N. If there’s something you need to say, now’s as good a time as any.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. The words Kiara had just spoken hung in the air, and she felt a surge of emotion bubbling up inside her. She didn’t know what had changed in her since last night, but it was like something inside her had cracked open—something she had kept buried for a long time.

She glanced at Kiara, whose expression was a mix of concern and encouragement. It was like Kiara could see right through her, and in that moment, Y/N realized she didn’t have the luxury of keeping things in anymore. She had to say something. She couldn’t keep playing along like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stood up, the muscles in her legs tense. She turned to JJ, who was still lounging on the couch, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing in the room. She had to get this out, had to make him see.

“JJ,” she started, her voice shaky but determined. “Can we talk?”

He looked up, his grin faltering slightly as he met her eyes. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Outside. Now” Y/N and JJ made their way out to the hammock. Taking a step closer, her eyes narrowing as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “What the hell, JJ?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, her frustration and hurt now spilling over.

JJ blinked, clearly taken aback by her tone. “What are you talking about?”

“The way you act like you’re in love with Kiara, but you’ll hook up with anyone who’s not her.” The words were sharper than she meant, but she couldn’t stop them. “It’s like you get to keep her on this pedestal and pretend that she’s the one, but you don’t treat her like that. You treat her like… like she’s just another girl to play with.”

JJ, who had been about to make a joke, suddenly went silent. He straightened up on the couch, his expression turning more serious, but Y/N didn’t let up.

“I’m sick of it,” Y/N continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “I’m sick of being the ‘good girl,’ the one you all forget is… well, a girl. You make these jokes about me, like I don’t care. But I do. I just don’t understand why you keep doing this—acting like you’re so into Kiara when you’re out there with anyone else who shows up. What about her? What about me?” Her breath hitched, the words coming out in a rush.

JJ’s expression shifted from confusion to defensiveness. He leaned forward slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. “Look, Y/N, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, don’t,” Y/N cut him off, her voice rising. “I’m not asking for an apology, I’m asking for you to think for once. Maybe stop acting like you don’t have feelings for Kiara when you clearly do. And maybe, just maybe, think about how I feel when I see you with someone else, acting like I’m just… background noise.”

There was a heavy pause. JJ’s eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might say something—anything—to try and fix it. But then he stood up quickly, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he pushed past her toward the door.

“Look, I’m just trying to have a good time. Maybe you’re overthinking this,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the intensity of the conversation.

Y/N’s heart sank. It was like he didn’t even understand what she was saying, like he was so caught up in his own world that he couldn’t even recognize the hurt in hers.

Without another word, Y/N turned on her heel and stormed off, her pulse racing. She didn’t want to be in this space anymore. Didn’t want to feel like this anymore.

As she made her way back to the house, JJ called after her, but Y/N didn’t stop. She needed air. She needed to get away from all of this for a moment.

The front door swung open just as she stepped onto the porch, and she stopped, breathless, seeing the girl from the night before leaving the kitchen with a carefree smile. JJ’s tourist. Y/N felt a bitter sting in her chest as the girl waved goodbye to him before heading out, not even sparing a glance at Y/N.

The jealousy coursed through her, but it was more than that—it was the feeling of being unseen, of not being enough. And in that moment, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

—

Later, Y/N started her shift down at the country club. The rhythmic clinking of glasses and soft hum of the lunch rush kept Y/N focused, the kind of steady routine she needed to distract herself after everything that had gone down last night and this morning. Cleaning the bar, wiping down counters—anything to keep her mind from wandering back to the bonfire and the sting of the Pogues’ comments.

But just as she was about to grab a fresh cloth to wipe the countertop, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Rafe Cameron.

Her eyes widened slightly. Rafe was looking like he’d just had the worst day of his life—frazzled, hair a little more messed up than usual, and his eyes wide with some mix of panic and annoyance.

“Y/N!” Rafe’s voice was a little too loud for the low-key atmosphere of the club, and he made a beeline for the bar. “I need your help. Like, right now.”

Y/N leaned back slightly, trying to hide her grin. “Cameron, here? What’s up? Your dad cut you off already?”

He shot her a look that was somewhere between exasperation and helplessness. “I wish. No, listen, my dad invited me to sit in on some huge business meeting today, right? It’s a big deal, but I—” he glanced down at his pants and then back up at her, “—I spilled coffee all over my pants. It’s bad, Y/N. Really bad.”

Y/N couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, the image of the Kook prince—immaculate and untouchable—standing there with a coffee stain on his fancy pants was just too much. “You spilled coffee on your pants? Really?”

Rafe scowled, clearly embarrassed but too proud to admit just how serious he was about the whole situation. “This is a huge deal, alright? I’m meeting with some important people, and I can’t go in looking like this. I need help, please.”

Still trying to stifle her giggles, Y/N nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you. But you owe me one.” She grabbed a towel and motioned for him to follow her. “Come on, we’re going to the bathroom. We’ll try to clean them up. Don’t get too hopeful.”

“Anything,” Rafe muttered, following her through the back of the club.

The bathroom was quiet, and Y/N could already feel the light tension between them as they stepped inside. She motioned for him to wait by one of the stalls. “Alright, take a seat in there. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Rafe shot her a doubtful look but did as she said, squeezing himself into the stall. Y/N was left with his coffee-stained pants, feeling both amused and slightly sorry for him. The stain was big, but not impossible to fix with some elbow grease.

As she worked on scrubbing the stain out, the silence between them stretched on, and after a while, Y/N broke it with a quiet sigh. “You know, I took your advice last night,” she began, her tone soft, almost uncertain. “The whole ‘don’t hold back’ thing. But… it kind of bombed.”

Rafe’s voice came from the stall, more serious than she expected. “What do you mean? I thought it was good advice.”

Y/N shook her head, her hands still moving over the fabric. “I mean, I told them exactly what I was thinking, and it didn’t go over well. They just made fun of me more. I thought maybe it would feel good to get everything off my chest, but instead, it just made things worse.”

There was a long pause before Rafe finally spoke, his tone softer than she had ever heard it. “I’m sorry. I was drunk, and honestly, I didn’t really think through what I was saying. I guess it’s not as easy as just throwing everything out there without consequences.” He let out a small, almost rueful laugh. “I wasn’t really thinking, was I?”

Y/N smiled slightly, feeling the weight of her own frustrations lift just a little. “No, you weren’t. But it did feel good to be honest, even if the timing was… well, off.” She looked at him over her shoulder, finding him still in the stall, his face partially visible, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“You know, I never really thought about it that way,” Rafe admitted, his voice quieter. “Like, yeah, I’m always the one telling people to do whatever the hell they want. But sometimes you gotta be careful what you say. Especially when it’s about people who matter.”

Y/N felt a flicker of understanding between them—something unspoken but real. “Yeah, I get that.”

She finished cleaning the pants, carefully checking to make sure the stain was almost gone. “Alright, I think we’re good. You might still look like you’re working overtime at a coffee shop, but it’s better than it was.”

Rafe finally emerged from the stall, straightening up and looking down at his pants. He sighed in relief. “You saved me. I owe you one, big time.”

Y/N shrugged, brushing her hands off and turning to face him. “Don’t worry about it. Just—next time, maybe don’t go around giving relationship advice while drunk.” She grinned, teasing him.

Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, after a beat, he added, “But seriously, thanks. I didn’t think you’d even care to help me with this.”

Y/N smiled back at him, feeling lighter than she had in days. “What are friends for, Rafe?”

—

The evening sun was beginning to fade, casting an orange glow over the island, but Y/N’s shift at the country club wasn’t over just yet. The events of the day had played out in such a whirlwind—Rafe’s unexpected visit, the heart-to-heart they’d shared, and the awkward tension that still lingered between Y/N and the Pogues. It was a strange mix of emotions she couldn’t quite shake off.

She wiped down the bar one last time, scanning the room. The club was quieter now, the steady flow of people dying down as dinner hour approached. She could already feel the exhaustion setting in after an emotionally charged day, but it wasn’t over yet.

The phone behind the counter rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She answered it quickly, as she always did in the quiet moments.

“Hello?” she asked, her tone soft from the fatigue she’d been carrying all day.

“Y/N?”

Her heart skipped at the familiar voice. It was JJ, and there was something in his voice that made her stomach tighten.

“JJ? Everything okay?” she asked, glancing around the bar to make sure no one needed her attention.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice shaky and strained, like he’d been holding something in for far too long. “My dad… he—he had another outburst. And it was bad, Y/N. Really bad.”

Her chest tightened as she set the rag down on the counter. “JJ… are you alright?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then a sharp, almost hollow laugh. “I’m fine, I guess. Just… it’s the same shit, you know? But this time, I… I don’t know. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

Y/N’s heart ached for him, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. She had seen him at his worst, but she knew how much it meant when he opened up like this.

“I’ll be there in a few,” she said without hesitation. “Just… stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”

“Thanks,” JJ muttered, the relief in his voice barely audible. “I knew I could count on you.”

The line went dead, and Y/N immediately grabbed her bag, rushing to clock out. She wasn’t about to let him go through this alone, not after everything he’d confided in her before. Even if she didn’t know what to say to fix it, she’d be there.

When Y/N arrived at JJ’s house, she wasn’t sure what she’d find. The atmosphere felt different, heavier, as she stood at the front door, glancing at the dim lights flickering through the windows. There was no sign of movement from inside, but she knew he was there. He had to be.

She knocked softly on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet of the evening. The door creaked open, and there stood JJ, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair messy, and his eyes were bloodshot.

Without a word, he stepped aside, letting her in. The silence that followed spoke volumes—no words needed to be exchanged, as Y/N understood exactly how he was feeling. She had seen this before, the way his father’s outbursts left him fragile and raw. She just didn’t know how much longer he could keep holding it all together.

“Where is he?” Y/N asked, glancing around.

“Out,” JJ muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He left after… after everything. I don’t even know where he went. Doesn’t matter.”

Y/N nodded, understanding that he was just trying to hold himself together. She stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, JJ.”

He looked down at her hand on his shoulder, then back up at her, his eyes searching hers. “I know. I just… I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” she replied quietly. “We’ve been through too much for me to walk away now.”

JJ let out a shaky breath, then nodded, his eyes lingering on hers for a beat longer than necessary. “I don’t even know how to thank you for always being here. You… you’re the only one who gets it.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. She had always been there for him, but sometimes, it felt like she was the one who needed to be saved. She gave him a small smile. “It’s not about thanks. I’m here because I want to be.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Y/N said, breaking the silence. “You’ve been through enough today.”

JJ didn’t argue. He simply nodded, allowing her to guide him toward the small couch where he’d likely been sitting alone, stewing over everything that had happened.

–

The air in JJ’s house was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Y/N had helped him clean up, patched up the immediate mess his father’s outburst had left on him, but the emotional damage was still raw. JJ, sitting on the worn-out couch, looked every bit like a kid who’d seen too much too soon. His shoulders were slumped, his face shadowed by exhaustion, but Y/N knew better than to push him. They’d both been through enough for one day.

She sat down beside him, the room quiet except for the occasional hum of the old fan in the corner. No words were needed right now; sometimes, silence was the best comfort. They didn’t have to say much to understand each other.

Y/N glanced over at him, her voice gentle when she finally broke the silence. “You know, when we were kids, I never imagined things would turn out this way.”

JJ shifted slightly, his eyes downcast. “Yeah, me neither,” he muttered. “But I guess the world doesn’t give a shit about what we imagined, huh?”

Y/N let out a quiet, sad laugh, knowing that was the bitter truth. “Nope. We get what we get, and we have to figure out how to make it work.”

They both sat in the quiet for a moment longer, the weight of everything they’d been through growing heavier. She’d known JJ for so long, seen him go through so much, but tonight it felt different. There was a certain vulnerability in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, something raw and unspoken.

“Did you ever think about leaving?” Y/N asked suddenly, the question hanging in the air before she could stop herself.

JJ met her eyes then, his expression guarded. “I think about it all the time. But I know I’d never make it far. It’s just easier to stay and pretend like it’s all fine.”

Y/N nodded, the truth of his words cutting deeper than she expected. She’d always admired JJ’s ability to keep going, even when everything seemed to be falling apart around him. But she knew, like he did, that sometimes the hardest part was pretending it didn’t hurt.

“I’ve thought about leaving too,” she said quietly, her gaze falling to her hands in her lap. “Not for the same reasons, but… sometimes I wonder if there’s more out there for me than this island. Than everything that’s tied to it.”

JJ’s lips twitched upward in the smallest smile. “You’re one of the only ones I know who can get away from this place, Y/N. You could actually make something of yourself, get outta here.”

Y/N chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. “Maybe. But every time I think about leaving, I remember that everything I want is right here. Even if it’s all a mess.”

“You really think that?” JJ asked, leaning back slightly, a new kind of curiosity in his voice.

Y/N met his gaze, her tone steady. “Yeah. I think I’ve spent so much time thinking about leaving, I forgot what it means to stay. To fight for something that matters. Even if it's messed up and broken, at least it’s real.”

JJ looked at her for a long moment, his eyes softer than they had been all night. “I get that. I think… Maybe I just don’t know what it means to stay. Not with how things are.”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the words. She’d known about Luke’s temper, the violence that simmered beneath the surface of the man JJ had called father for so long. But she was the only one who knew how bad it really got. The others saw the bruises, the scars, the broken things, but they didn’t know how much of it was a product of a man who couldn’t control his rage.

She sighed, her voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, JJ. I’m here. You know that, right?”

JJ glanced at her, the walls he’d built up over the years starting to crack. He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he just nodded, as if the weight of everything was finally getting to him. He let out a breath, a shaky laugh escaping him.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N smiled, though the ache in her chest didn’t fade. She knew she was the only one who truly understood what he was going through. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what kept her coming back—being the one person who could hold the pieces together, even when everything seemed to fall apart.

JJ shifted slightly, his tone quieter now. “You ever wish you could’ve had a different childhood? A different family?”

Y/N let the question sit for a moment, knowing it wasn’t easy to admit. She leaned back against the couch, thinking back to her own complicated relationship with her parents. It wasn’t as bad as his, but it had never been simple either. They’d always been distant, more focused on their own lives than on her. She shrugged, her voice soft.

“I think about it sometimes. I wonder if things would’ve been different if they’d been different. But then I remember… you and me, and the way we survived this island. Maybe that’s all we need. To survive.”

JJ let out a dry laugh, the humor in his voice soft and weary. “Yeah. We’re good at surviving.”

The silence stretched between them, and Y/N realized they were both carrying the weight of things they couldn’t change. But at least they had each other. At least they had someone who understood. And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

Eventually, JJ shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of them. He laid back, his head resting against the worn fabric, while Y/N curled up beside him as they’d done when they were kids. The tension in the room, in both of their hearts, started to ease as they settled into the familiar rhythm of being together—no words needed, just the warmth of shared history and unspoken understanding.

Eventually, JJ shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of them. He laid back, his head resting against the worn fabric, while Y/N curled up beside him as they’d done when they were kids. The tension in the room, in both of their hearts, started to ease as they settled into the familiar rhythm of being together—no words needed, just the warmth of shared history and unspoken understanding.

As the night grew darker, Y/N felt the weight of her eyelids heavy, the exhaustion from the day, from everything, creeping in. It had been a hard day, a hard week, but for now, in the quiet of JJ’s house, with him by her side, it felt like they were just two kids again—no worries, no pain, just the comfort of each other’s presence.

“Hey, Y/N?” JJ whispered into the stillness, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah?” she murmured, her eyes already half-shut.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N’s lips twitched into a sleepy smile, her voice soft as she responded, “Same, JJ. Same.”

And with that, they both drifted into a peaceful, familiar sleep, the kind that only comes when you know, deep down, that no matter how hard life gets, you’ll always have each other.

Before fully drifting off, Y/N thought to herself, Once we graduate... we’re leaving. Together. No more broken families, no more staying behind. And with that, they both let the quiet of the night pull them under, dreaming of the future they would build away from the island and all that had hurt them.

And with that, they both drifted into a peaceful, familiar sleep, the kind that only comes when you know, deep down, that no matter how hard life gets, you’ll always have each other.

---

Next up: a return to how it was, more or less

-----

Taglist:

@hockeybabe87

----

A/N: last one for night.. wish me luck for my presentation in the morning!!!!

[vigilskeep]

there are so many things in veilguard that have made me go "wait what??? okay i guess i have to totally rethink the character i'm roleplaying now" that it's literally impossible to guess what thing you're referring to as The Thing That Happened. obviously extremely curious to hear what it is once you've detangled it

it’s kind of like that but it’s also less that and more... okay i should probably just say it, i’m being weird and unhelpful and i need to write it out anyway so i can think

MASSIVE SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT for a companion quest, do NOT say i didn’t warn you. also please don’t respond to this if you know more than me i am in distress but i still don’t want spoilers

so i just finished lucanis’ “a murder of crows” quest. and lucanis. first talon. for some reason. (this is the writing choice i’m ??? on. also i’m ??? on lucanis’ whole storyline, frankly. the writing was. well. like i said, we’re not unpicking that right now, i don’t want to get into it at this point, not the conversation i’m having.)

lifelong trauma of being in the crows and fighting to get someone in a talon’s position and keep them there -> the thing that gave sol all their diseases and made them, to be frank, fairly suicidal

viago: ultimately can handle it without them, especially with teia’s backing.

lucanis: CANNOT handle it without them. holy fuck. for like twelve hundred different reasons, unthinkable, completely laughable, that he can handle this. who is going to protect him. the only reason this could be better at keeping sol mentally stable than watching viago’s back is that they will never feel purposeless or need to go looking for an adrenaline rush, because forget crows, an ambitious blackbird could eat that man alive. he can’t scheme. he can’t even SCHEME and the very fact that he trusts sol DE RIVA demonstrates this. sol is a crow! from another house! does he have no memory at all of the fact that his own parents died in crow infighting? sol could have been playing him this whole time, it wouldn’t have even been hard, and if they were that kind of person, then right now the first talon’s house would have just fallen directly in their hands like a gift from the maker, and they can’t even say a part of themself they can’t shut off isn’t thinking about it that way! how is sol supposed to keep someone like that alive?

you see what it’s like trying to sleep while sol is having this discussion in my mind.

ahem. anyway. pathways for sol’s life assuming they indeed make it through the game:

becoming lucanis’ guard dog the way they were for viago, which (even if they could mentally handle that, which they can’t. or can they??) means switching house loyalties which would surely destroy them eventually -> bad

somehow trying to persuade lucanis to give this up, as if that wouldn’t be throwing house dellamorte completely to the dogs, which at least sol can’t imagine any crow is capable of, let alone someone so dedicated to clinging to what remains of his family that he couldn’t even kill a traitor -> bad

going ahead and leaving the crows, but sol now has to leave BOTH viago and lucanis behind and also lucanis is going to die in there because they left him to do this alone -> bad

solution: sol is back on their original “if a blighted dragon eats me by the end of this, i don’t have to experience consequences” train

and maybe they’re right and i should not worry about this because i’m painfully aware it’s VERY bold to start deciding what happens after the game at this point, when they might still get trapped in the fade or turned into paste or something. and admittedly they did know and dread the possibilities from the first moment they felt something for lucanis, which was why they so wanted it to be anyone else, because anyone else in that lighthouse could have given them a different world, and he is the one who regardless of his best or worst intentions can only tie them tighter to a burning building. and SURE, i see the solas/mythal breakup parallels of sol still leaving, i’m looking at them, that doesn’t mean i have to LIKE them

he hasn’t even kissed them. they’re doing all of this unkissed. lucanis dellamorte when i get you

again please absolutely do not respond to any of this with even the vaguest of hints if you know more about the rest of the game than me 🙏 it’s probably best if no-one responds to this at all lmao i am just thinking out loud. you can reply with a “that’s rough buddy”. for sol

[revelboo]

Just wanted to say I love the way you write Wheeljack! He is my favorite and I don’t think he gets enough love ♥️

Circuits and Wires Pt 5

IDW Wheeljack x Reader

• Part of him still has trouble really believing that you’d rather stay with him than a safer bot. One that might have more time for you, but he’s glad for it. He’ll take as much of your time as you’re willing to give him. Knows he’s distracted a lot, that he forgets things, but you give him something to focus him and he does try. He’s used to working through his recharge period or forgetting to refuel a few times, but he’s also very aware of you, your needs reminding him of his own.

• “Break time, big guy,” you yawn, laying a hand on his arm, when you really just want to sprawl on him while he works and take a nap. Your head is pounding and you feel oddly exhausted. His schedule isn’t exactly human friendly. “I’m dead on my feet, so I know you must be.” His head turns, vocal indicator panels flickering a sickly yellow as he stares at you. “Not literally,” you add before he can try to grab you and run you to Ratchet. You’d figure out the hard way already that some sayings and idioms go right over his head.

• “Sorry, got a bit caught up,” he murmurs, freezing when you lean your upper body on his arm, your cheek resting on your own outstretched arm, feeling your warmth against him. How long has it been since he took a break? Since you ate anything? It had been a surprise to find out humans are supposed to eat throughout the day normally when you’d only been eating once a day to accommodate his schedule and hadn’t said a word of complaint. He’d only figure it out because he’d overheard Bee and Bluestreak talking about their humans. Vocal indicators flickering guiltily, he gently picks you up in his other hand, venting when you just lay your cheek on his servos. “Are you okay?”

• Squinting up at him, you pat his servos. “Just tired.” The headache had been sliding toward a vague queasiness for a while now and you know it’s from going all day without eating, but you didn’t want him to have to stop because of you or to worry him. There’s a vague concern that if you bug him too much he might bring up giving you away again. You know it’s silly to be afraid of that, but you can’t help it. You’re not even really hungry anymore, anyway. Sleeping sounding like a better plan, you’re just so tired and he’s warm.

• By the time he reaches the rec room, you’re asleep in his hand, one of your arms curled around his servos, clinging to him. There’s a box on the back counter of human food that he raids as he cradles you to his chassis and grabs an energon cube for himself. Finding a table to set the cube and your strange food on, he runs a servo between your shoulder blades, rubbing. “Come on. You need to eat for me.” Making an adorably sleepy sound that hums warmly through his spark, you peer up at him as he holds you to his chassis. “We’ll rest after,” he promises as you finally straighten a bit, though your head and shoulders are still drooping. Carefully picking up your food and nudging it at you until you take it, he’s aware of the curious looks he’s getting from the other Autobots at the way he’s holding you against him as you eat, but he couldn’t care less. Let them whisper about him, it’s not like he isn’t used to it anyway. He’s always been the outsider, the one they whisper and gossip about, laughingly calling him a mad scientist behind his back. They all scoff at him, but not you. And you’re all that matters and he strokes your back with a servo as you eat, before reaching for his own energon.

Previous

[ang3lofdivinity]

Because I’m trying to get back into writing more…

Imagine: Daisuke and you on the Tulpar managing to find time to spend together doing something like.. making food for the crew. No matter what your job is, you’re always willing to help him out with baking whenever needed!

“Dai, can you-“ You immediately freeze, looking over at your boyfriend who has made a rather large mess on the counter. He had dropped the batter out of the mixing bowl somehow, enough for it all to pour out as he holds the messy, metallic bowl and spatula in his hands. His expression? Dumbfounded to say the least

You genuinely cannot contain the giggles that escape your throat upon seeing the scene before you.

“Hey!! This isn’t funny!” He immediately pouts, whipping his head around to face you before looking back down at the bowl, using the spatula to scrap whatever remains are within the bowl and slinging them at you, causing you to laugh even harder - tears falling down your cheeks.

The batter had splattered on your clothes, along with your neck. But hey! At least you got a nice laugh out of it.

Quickly, your hands swiftly grab the nearest thing, which just so happens to be an opened sweetener pack, as you launch it towards him, causing him to squeal like a mouse.

This then, continues. For nearly hours as you laugh and cry about your food fight, throwing ingredients at each other as you can’t find a care in the world for the mess you’re creating. Only caring about your boyfriend’s happiness.

Other food items, utensils (non-harming ones), and bowls were thrown. The bowls and utensils clattered as they fell to the ground, nearly causing you both to fall at certain times as you raced around the dining table in the center, trying to avoid getting hit once more.

There’s honestly nothing that can ruin this-

“What are IDIOTS doing???”

Upon hearing Swansea’s voice, you both instantaneously pause, staring over at the old man standing in the doorway.

Without a second to spare, you quickly rush over to Daisuke, who’s practically trembling under Swansea’s gaze.

“You stupid kids! Why would you waste these products!?” He yells, brows furrowed.

You move in front of Daisuke rather protectively, clearing your throat.

“It was my fault, Mr Swansea. I instigated this, and pressured him to join me in.. what I thought was fun. I’m so sorry. We’ll clean this up right away and salvage all that we can.” You bow your head in respect, lips now pursed.

“Just, don’t do it again..” He huffed as he turned on his heel, now leaving as the door slid shut.

It takes you guys a moment before you start giggling ever so slightly.

Imagine: You are sleeping, and then you suddenly hear your door open in the middle of the night. Surprise, it’s Daisuke! And even when trying to tough it out - he eventually can’t find it within him to go back to sleep without company. So he goes to your room to ask if he can sleep with you because being with you makes him feel better.

You groggily manage to raise yourself enough to sit on your bed, eyes blinking slowly as you try to adjust to your surroundings. Yawning, you finally see who’s opened your door.

Daisuke.

“..Sweetheart, it’s still nighttime. Can whatever you have to say wait until morning?..” Your voice is slightly raspy, but you try your best to sound as kind as you can, giving a small smile to the man in the doorway.

“I um.. sorry- I can go.. I didn’t mean to disturb you..” He fumbles over his words, fidgeting with his fingers as he stumbles backwards a bit. Something.. something seems wrong with his tone, however. Like something’s genuinely going wrong. So, that really gave you a wake-up call.

How could you push away your boyfriend in order to get just a bit more sleep tonight when he seems so distressed??

“Wait!-“ You quickly call out, causing him to stop him from leaving once he showed signs of him beginning to leave. You couldn’t let him leave just like that!

He turns to you, a worried look on his face. As if he’d done something wrong. You’ve seen that look before. He makes the same face whenever Swansea calls out his name all of the sudden, making him stiffen up, worrying that’d done something wrong.

But he hasn’t.

He’s just a young adult, like you.

Just trying to live.

Just. Like. You.

“..Come here.” Your voice is softer, sounding much more normal to how you normally sound - yet it still has that tired tinge to it.

He stares at you for a moment, confused about what’s happening before obliging. He slowly enters, the door sliding closed behind him as he awkwardly stands near the side of the bed where you’re resting. Swiftly, you lift up the covers, moving back a bit before patting the free spot on your bed.

“Come on. We can talk about it in the morning if you’re ready then.”

He almost immediately jumps into your arms upon crawling up into bed with you, wrapping his own around you while burying his face away into your shoulder. One of your hands glides up, finding its way into his hair, tangling with strands of it, stroking his hair, massaging his scalp - doing simple things to try and get him to relax a bit more.

Which works.

He’s out once more, arms wrapped around each other.

Imagine: Giving little gifts to each other with small letters of affirmation written on little post it notes. Even if that small gift is just an article of clothing one of you guys borrowed from the other.

‘You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. Keep the good work up, Dai. :)’

- (_____)

Daisuke reads the note attached to a bag of sweetener with a cheeky grin, clearly pleased with this. I mean, he’s been told he’s useless, that he’s just an idiot - but you see through that. You see the effort, the time it takes. Even if it fails, at least he tried to do it.

Quickly he looks around his room for a moment, trying to find the perfect thing to give you.

When he finds it.

.

Upon arriving back to your room from the medic bay, helping Anya with Curly and a few other errands she needed - you’re greeted with the sight of a hoodie somewhat neatly placed on your bed. You furrow your brows, confused for a moment before you approach your bed, now seeing the post-it-note attached to it.

A small grin slowly graces your lips as you tilt your head at the sight, gently taking it off the hoodie.

‘Know that you matter to me! You’re so incredibly awesome, I don’t know how I got to date with someone so cool >:D’

- Daisuke

As your smile grows larger, you realize 2 essential things:

You’re so thankful to have him.

And

He’s the best boyfriend ever. (Even if a bit silly at times).

You love him.

[unhingedangstaddict]

Currently working on my own fix-it fic but man this shit is harder than I thought it'd be- I keep crying and then getting distracted reading other fix-it fics. Thought I'd share this snippet to hopefully motivate myself to keep going???

Hen was starting to wonder if maybe Tommy was out for a run when she heard a faint ‘oh shit’ from inside the house. She banged on the door again. “Come on Kinard! I know you’re in there!” She called out. If Tommy’s neighbors thought she was crazy, oh well, too bad. Hen really didn’t care.

Finally the door was opened by Tommy. His hair was a mess- sticking up as though he’d been running his hands through it far too much-, he had deep dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, his eyes were puffy from crying, and frankly, he looked like shit. “What do you want, Hen?” Tommy rasped. Whether his voice was hoarse due to dehydration or yelling and/or crying was unclear.

“To talk about what happened last night.” Hen crossed her arms.

“You mean you’re here to yell at me for what I did?" Tommy guessed. He hadn't forgotten the thinly veiled shovel talk from Hen and Karen months back at the medal ceremony- he wasn't surprised Hen was here now. “Trust me I hate myself for it enough. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already thought about myself.”

“No. I’m here to try and understand what even happened. According to Eddie, Buck wasn’t making very much sense last night. Eddie would’ve come himself to check on you but he’s got Buck right now. Eddie’s worried about you and frankly, I am too.”

Tommy sighed deeply and stepped aside to let Hen into the house.

Soon they were sitting at Tommy’s kitchen table with mugs of coffee in hand.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened or are you just gonna keep having that staring contest with your coffee?” Hen questioned.

“He asked me to move in with him.” Tommy admitted quietly.

“Okay,” Hen said slowly, waiting for Tommy to explain further why he was upset by it. Beyond the obvious matter of Buck leasing his loft apartment and Tommy owning his house, Hen wasn’t sure what the issue was.

“For a split second, I thought about saying yes.” Tommy confessed. “Then I returned to reality and realized I had to end it.”

“But why?” Hen questioned.

“Even if it was only for a second, Hen, I was ready to, what? Sell my house and more than half my stuff to move in with him? I’m not even mad about that part- I’m upset with myself for considering it. I’ve been in Evan’s position before, first gay relationship, lovesick, you think it’s gonna last forever. And I’ve been the first for guys before too. Like I told Evan last night, I know how it ends. And I guess I’d rather break my own heart than wait around for Evan to do it.”

“If you’ve been so sure all this time that it could never work, why did it take until now for you to call things off?” Hen questioned.

“I think from the start I knew I was playing with fire. After the last guy I was a first for, I told myself I wasn’t going to do it anymore. Then I met Evan, and he was just so magnetic, I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to. I couldn't say no to him. I think I always knew my heart would get broken, and I guess I was okay with that all this time, until last night when I realized I love him, and I knew I had to cut myself off before I reached a point of no return.” Tommy explained. “I mean, I’m a fucking a mess right now and I was the one who called it off. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to survive him ending it.”

“Did you really just figure out last night that you love him?” Hen asked.

“I guess I sorta loved him from the start but last night was different, Hen. I’m in love with him, like well and truly love him, in a way I’ve never felt before, about anyone.” Tears filled Tommy’s eyes. “And I’m just his first. And as badly as I want it, I know I don’t get to be his last.”

“What makes you so sure you can’t be his last?” Hen wondered.

“Because I’m not the forever guy." Tommy shrugged slightly as a tear finally escaped and slid down his cheek. "At best I’m the close-to-but-never-quite-enough guy."

[brooklyncircus]

"Until you..." part. 4.

Hiromi Higuruma x reader.

Until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma used to hate the damned sound of the rooster alarm, which constantly reminded him (to his frequent irritation) that he was alive, had to go to work, and continue with the same boring routine. Again.

But this time, he woke up before it went off, feeling strangely optimistic. He realised he wasn’t angry with the world. In fact, he was grateful, as everything that had happened... had led him to the moment he finally met you.

Realising this, he gave a faint smile, though he was still quite drowsy, with the sheets tangled around his legs and his hair even messier than usual.

With the feeling that the pillow’s imprint was still visible on one side of his face, Hiromi decided it was time to get up. With an exaggerated yawn, he headed towards the windows to check the weather outside.

"Today’s going to be a great day," he kept repeating in his mind, hoping it would be. His optimism was based on the belief that he’d see you again, even if only for a few minutes.

Put simply, Hiromi wanted to know if you’d survived the night. Or if you were still alive. Or if you weren’t merely a hallucination brought on by exhaustion or lack of sleep, or his own self-imposed work burnout (which was very likely, knowing him).

More than anything else, he wanted to know if you were alright.

The simple act of checking that you were still whole, alive, or pretending to be okay would be enough to calm his rising anxiety.

He grabbed the curtains and, with an anticipation and joy that felt fake and foreign, drew them open. “Ah—damn it!” he cursed under his breath, covering his eyes.

He knew he was being paranoid, but it felt as if the spirits in his flat were laughing at his foolishness. Because, upon pulling back the curtains, the sun hit him directly in the eyes, leaving him momentarily blinded.

After his small mishap—or supreme moment of idiocy—he got ready. He headed to the bathroom, washed his face and teeth, and attempted to tame his hair with a comb and a bit of gel, only to curse two seconds later because it didn’t turn out how he wanted, and a few stubborn strands refused to lie flat. Slowly, he put on his suit, shoes, and adjusted his tie.

That was one thing he found incredibly annoying: his tie. Despite several people showing him how to tie it, how to make that damned knot, he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. And he found himself staring at himself in the mirror, with the suicidal urge to hit his forehead against it in one go, shatter it, and then head off to work.

Minutes later, he found himself walking through the station. He’d already paid his fare, and he was nervous. Very, very nervous. His heart was about to burst from his chest, or break his ribs, or explode. Any unpleasant, intense, disgusting thing that could happen at that moment, he imagined it in full detail.

He felt tense, his shoulders stiff, and his knuckles white from gripping his briefcase so tightly.

In the distance, he heard the train approaching at full speed. He swallowed hard and felt himself starting to sweat with anticipation—he knew it.

“Maybe I’ll faint,” he thought, and felt an urge to burst into laughter at how stupid he’d look if it happened. “Maybe I could just throw myself onto the tracks and…”

The train doors opened before him, and he walked inside, feeling himself tremble. The elderly lady beside him, with wrinkled skin and white hair, gave him a curious and slightly worried look but said nothing.

There were so many people, he had to hold onto the railings attached to the ceiling to stay standing. He swallowed hard again, already hearing his own heartbeat in his ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

His vision was beginning to blur until...

“Oh! I’m so sorry, sir. Truly. I’m very sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to bump into you or, even less, step on you, I just…” the woman’s voice stumbled over her words, sounding both startled and embarrassed.

That voice…

Hiromi recognised it instantly, and he’d only heard it once in his life.

“But once was enough,” he thought. Yes, once was enough to recognise it anywhere.

In any life.

He turned and looked at the woman. At you. He sighed, relieved, and nearly smiled. Gently, he took hold of your arm to steady you at his side.

You were alive.

She looked at him for a split second and recognised him. How could she not? He was the man who, the previous morning, had helped her find the station to get to the library.

She knew she’d recognise him anywhere.

And because of this, a rosy blush coloured her cheeks as she stood beside Hiromi, attempting to hold onto the same ceiling rail, her hand mere inches from his.

“Don’t worry, there’s no need to apologise,” he reassured her in a kind, soft, almost tender voice. He was happy to see her again, even if just for a few minutes. “Hold on tight; the train’s quite crowded today…”

Until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma used to hate the damned sound of the rooster alarm, which constantly reminded him (to his frequent irritation) that he was alive, had to go to work, and continue with the same boring routine. Again.

But this time, he woke up before it went off, feeling strangely optimistic. He realised he wasn’t angry with the world. In fact, he was grateful, as everything that had happened... had led him to the moment he finally met you.

[starsfic]

The Week After, Chapter 2: Day 1

Summary: Short one, because it was mostly sleeping.

They woke up on a couch.

It was an old couch in what looked to be the remains of a small break room. The lights were turned off, leaving only some light to peer through the cracks of the open door, so few details could be seen, like the dust that clung here and there and the plastic chairs surrounding about two tables. What they could see was the age of the room, left to rot unlike the pristine parkour palace.

…Well, almost pristine.

They pulled out their phone and winced at the lack of response. Hopefully, they got their purse back, it had their phone charger in it. There was a clock on the wall, but as they squinted, they realized they couldn’t see.

Oh. Wait. They weren’t wearing their glasses.

Morgan had to wonder how long they had been asleep to not notice that fact first. They stood up and reached around. After a bit of fumbling in the dark, they found their glasses. The sport strap was still on. They pulled it on and realized about four things.

The clock was a Frankie clock, the position of his arms suggesting it was eight in the evening. Someone had taken off the Frankie onesie, leaving them in the gym shorts and tank they had come in, the floor freezing through their socked feet, with the shoes next to the couch. There was a McDonald’s bag sitting next to where their glasses had been, faint warmth still coming off. The third thing was that Frankie was standing in the corner of the room next to the door, staring at them.

They stared at each other. It was just like when they stumbled across him the first time. He had been staring at the cameras and then slowly turned towards them. Morgan had been too baffled and just a touch scared to think of running as he straightened up and then suddenly burst to life-

“Oh good!” he said, clapping his hands. “You’re not dead!”

Morgan stared. “Were- were you worried I was?” they asked.

“Well, to be fair, you did pass out on me very suddenly,” he said, reaching over and turning on the light. They felt a hiss come out at the sudden invasion of light, blinking colors out of their vision. “That was very rude of you, dear.”

“Sorry,” they said, unsure of what else to say. When their parents or siblings had said something similar, they had always felt a rush of anger that meant that their house was filled with yelling. Instead, shame rushed up, foreign in their body. “I think it was because I was suddenly out of a life-threatening situation.” To be fair, Morgan had been running around for hours, avoiding danger like Death had an arrest warrant for them. It had been exciting, but also exhausting. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Hm,” Frankie said.

Morgan decided to move to the next topic. “Did you buy me McDonald’s?”

“No, the staff who came by did,” Frankie sounded very pleased by this. “The movers wanted to give you a reward for surviving. They left your stuff by the entrance, by the way.” There was a pause. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Stop it,” Morgan said, reaching into the bag. And, wow, they had gotten them a bunch of stuff. Their mouth began to water at the smell of hotcakes. They couldn’t remember the last time they splurged and bought any kind of takeout. The past few months had been full of the cursed cereal that had the texture of packing peanuts and, after a few months of eating it straight, tasted like medicinal grape.

Frankie paused as they didn’t even bother with a knife and fork, yanking shreds of the pancakes off and shoving it in. “No,” he finally said, maniac glee lining his voice. “You did me a favor by living. So you have to deal with me.”

“What do you mean?” Morgan asked around a mouthful of fries. They needed to slow down, but they were so fucking hungry.

“They were going to get rid of me,” Frankie explained and Morgan had to stop at that. “After this season, they were going to scrap me and recast the position because with the show only lasting a few minutes.” The mania suggested this was an unusual amount of trauma dumping, so they just shut their mouth. “But now I’m getting upgrades that that brat got years ago!” He laughed, gripping his fists together.

…well then.

“I’m glad for you?”

“You should be!” Frankie said, turning and opening the door. “I’m glad you’re not dead. If you need to replace your bandages, there should be a first aid kit in the cabinet. Bye!” And with that, he slammed the door behind him. There was a pause and then he opened the door. “By the way, you do have some tax paperwork to fill. Apparently, it’s very illegal to not pay you for all you’ve done.”

“Isn’t it also illegal to host death games in the first place?”

Frankie chuckled. “Yes! But the IRS doesn’t ask questions about murder.” And with that, he slammed the door shut.

Morgan blinked and then sighed.

They could worry about that later.

[bird-in-the-space]

Echoes of the Unknown

Optimus offers some assuring words and later you find a way to be useful to the team.

Warnings: reader having body dysmorphia, some comfort, and Ratchet being his grumpy self.

Chapter 11

-----------------------------------

The day went much faster after getting to know the kids and the bots. You learned their names properly and they showed you around their base. When the night came, you were shown to your new room. Emily decided to stay the night to Ratchet's displeasure. He was not very happy to hear that since Emily was eighteen and had already graduated high school, she was no longer required to follow the curfew rule. Considering how he spoke about humans and Earth, you already assumed he was not the biggest human fan. 

It took a moment to get comfortable on your new metallic bed, or berth as they called it. You were glad you had a quilt packed for Emily, so she didn’t get cold. It was often cold when you went on night walks together, so that’s why you had it. However, you did not understand how she was comfortable sleeping on a hard metallic surface beside you. 

But, you were comforted by her presence, so you found sleep easily. 

The night went peacefully, but you found yourself awake sometime after. 

A groan left you as you woke up. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at Emily, who was sleeping soundly beside you, wrapped in the quilt. You were first worried that you would accidentally crush her while turning, but luckily, you were still enough of a sleeper. You then stared at the ceiling. You couldn't tell what the time was as there was no clock near you, but taken from the silence and the dim lighting of the room, you suspected it was somewhere early in the morning. 

You stayed still, staring into nothing. You tried to close your eyes and use breathing to make yourself fall asleep, but it no longer came easily like before, most likely because you were no longer suffering from energon deficiency or clogged pipes. 

After your fifth exhale of air, you decided to take a walk. You carefully moved around Emily without waking her and then left your room. 

You arrived at the main room or hangar, you weren’t sure what it was called. It was empty to your relief. The green main computer thing was active and doing something. Some noises echoed above the ceiling, most likely the vents, giving the base a quiet ambiance. 

You hoped the bots did not find your wandering suspicious. You did inhabit the body of one of their enemies. 

You stretched your head and limbs, trying to get used to the new lightness now that they no longer weighed like a bag of rocks. You then took a deep breath. With your hand against your chest, you slowly breathed out. You do not know why, but you still tried to feel your lungs even though they were no longer there. It helped you calm your nerves, but then you could not help but contemplate your lack of lungs. Maybe it was some kind of phantom muscle memory, something you could not forget easily because it was something you had all your life. 

People with lung problems would have likely celebrated, but you honestly missed the feeling of air going through you. It was not something you noticed before, but after being without them for so long, you constantly thought about having them again. Maybe as a some kind of reminder that you were still a human? 

“(Name)?” 

You turned around to see Optimus walk out of the hallway. 

“Is everything alright? Why are you awake this early?” he asked. 

“Ugh… No. Everything is alright, sir. I just woke up and couldn’t sleep anymore,” You explained, rather awkwardly. 

“Sorry… Should I not be here at this time of the hour?” you asked worriedly. 

“There’s no need to feel nervous. And no, we do not have a rule that you can’t be here at this time of the day,” Optimus explained. 

“Oh, okay. That’s good to hear,” you sighed in relief. 

“Is there something on your mind that makes it challenging for you to rest?” he asked. 

“A lot of things are on my mind. I… still find it a bit challenging to accept all of this. The existence of you, and that there’s a war going on. I know it’s been a while since I became this, but I still find it a bit difficult to get used to this body,” you looked down on your hands. 

“Is there something wrong with it? Should I call Ratchet?” Optimus asked. 

“No. I feel fine. He already helped a lot by healing me from my energon problem and adjusting my arms and legs to be lighter. He’s been a great help. It’s more like… my mind that is still trying to adjust, but it constantly finds faults in this body,” you explain. 

“Could you explain more?” Optimus asked. 

“It’s like… “ You tried to think how to explain it. “Like my fingers… I used to have five of them when I was still a human, but now I only have three. I’ve managed to get used to them and they’re no longer difficult to use even though I have to be careful and gentle when handling things that are now ten times smaller than me,” you explained, looking at your fingers. 

“Or sometimes I breathe and try to feel my lungs, only to realize I no longer have them,” you said. “Lungs are one of the most important organs a human needs to survive,” you added, not sure if he knew much about human anatomy. 

“And sometimes I even look down and try to see I have toes again, but I only see these pointy feet that could accidentally squash something if I’m not careful,” you said, looking down at your feet. 

“It’s like my mind is constantly telling me those things are missing. I guess it might be my former muscle memory or something, a muscle memory is like a … it’s like a code that allows you to do certain things with your body, and once you learn it, that code is there forever. Like… riding a bicycle, after you learn how to do it, you can still ride a bicycle even though you have not ridden it for a decade because your body remembers how to do it. Now, that I have become a robot, those muscle memories are gone because this is a completely different body. I guess my mind is still trying to find anything familiar to a human body, but it can’t because this body is everything a human is not,” you explained. 

“It’s been two months, but I am still reminded of my human self and can’t do anything about it because there’s no way for me to turn back,” you said, crossing your arms. 

“I understand. It must have been difficult trying to adapt to a body that no longer has the functions you were used to as a human. If we had the technology and tools like we used to on Cybertron, then we would have been able to return some of those functions, to make your new body at least somewhat familiar to you. However, since you had managed to survive this long in a strange body, it proves you have the strength to adapt while most would have likely crumbled under those pressures,” Optimus said, and some of those words brought comfort. 

“Well, I did have Emily for help. I doubt I would have survived long on my own,” you said. 

“And I assume Emily is someone you trust deeply,” Optimus stated. 

“She has been my best friend since I was fourteen. She just kinda walked into my life and pulled me along wherever she went. “ You smiled. 

“At first I thought it was going to be an encounter that would only happen once, but it was not. We continued being friends even after the summer camp, and then she just became something I can’t live without,” you explained. 

“I was so scared of showing myself when I became this, but she stayed and decided to help me,” you said, feeling warmth in your chest. 

“That is a rare bond that should be treasured dearly,” Optimus smiled softly. 

“Oh, I already pledged myself to be there whenever she needs me and protect her if her life was ever in danger,” you uttered, not feeling shy about your words toward her. 

“This new life might seem strange to you and scary after knowing we are at war with our kind. The circumstances could have been much better. But know that you are not obligated to join and fight it for us,” Optimus said. 

Your eyes widened and your shoulders became stiff. “Oh… did you hear about my talk with Emily?” you asked, slightly embarrassed. 

“Do not feel disheartened as you are right that this is not your war, or fear that we will not help you even if you do not wish to join our cause. You are free to stay or leave on your own accord. And even if there is something you wish to do, then that shall be your decision alone,” he said assuringly. You tried to see anything fault in his voice or expression, but there was nothing that roused your suspicions, he was being genuine. 

“Okay…” you nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. “Thank you, sir,”

“You may call me Optimus. There is no need for such formalities here,” he said. 

“Oh? Okay. Thank you, Optimus,” you said and he nodded. 

You then thought about Cybertron. Your interest piqued by its existence and what life was like there before the war. 

“Can I ask something?” you asked. 

“Of course. Go ahead,” Optimus nodded. 

“What was Cybertron like? Before the war I mean,” you asked. 

“You wish to learn more about it?” Optimus asked. 

“If that’s not a trouble, then yes,” you said with a nod. 

Optimus’s gaze softened and he began talking about his home planet. You listened attentively, learning interesting things about the alien planet. Your child-like curiosity peeked from its hidden shell and you asked questions Optimus seemed more than happy to answer and explain in detail. 

The morning arrived faster with you talking with Optimus. The bots and Emily woke up from their slumbers and came to the main room. 

Emily was curious to find you there. You picked her up and talked about the things you learned from Optimus. She seemed happy and listened with a smile as you told her everything you now knew about Cybertron. 

You stayed at the base as the bots went on patrols or scouting missions. The trio was still at school, so it was just you, Emily, Optimus, and Ratchet. However, you soon started to get bored. You wondered what you could do to compensate the bots for allowing you to stay there. Optimus said that you didn’t have to do anything, but your consciousness soon told you to do something and not be an extra mouth to feed, especially when they were having energon trouble themselves. 

“Hey, Ratchet,” you said. 

“Hmm?” Ratchet looked toward you. 

“Is there something I could do? I’m not much help on patrols and stuff, but I could be an extra hand here,” you asked. 

Emily smiled, most likely happy that you were taking the initiative. 

“Hmm. Well, you could help clean up the base,” Ratchet said. 

“Sure. If you have a cybertronian-sized mop around here,” you said skeptically as you didn’t see one. If it was a regular human-sized mop then there was no way you were going to do cleaning. 

“Nah. That’s too basic,” Emily suddenly chipped in. 

“I see you have a lot of broken stuff. (Name)’s actually very handy and good at fixing things. How about you have her fix something for you?” she suggested, looking at Ratchet. She was right as there were a lot of broken-looking things on his desk. However, you were not certain if you could help in fixing them as they were not human tools. 

“Sure, but does she know much about cybertronian technology?” Ratchet asked. 

“Ugh…” You hesitated to answer. 

“She’s a fast learner. You could teach her,” Emily saved you. 

“Even if I could, I do not currently have the necessary parts to fix them all,” Ratchet replied. 

You frowned. “Can’t you ask Agent Fowler for the parts?” you asked. 

“I could, but Agent Fowler is often busy with whatever Earth stuff he’s doing. I can wait for weeks before he finally brings the parts I ask for,” Ratcher explained.

You tried to think to yourself for a moment. 

“You know, Earth has many trash sites and junkyards around the globe,” Emily stated. 

“Yes, and?” 

“Well… people throw away a lot of stuff these days, some that are in perfectly good shape. There’s a high chance you might find the parts you need from these sites,” You explained. “You would not have to wait another week for Agent Fowler to answer your request,” you added. 

“Go through human trash? No thank you,” Ratchet grumbled.  

“We can go. Just give us a list and we’ll look for these parts,” Emily suggested. 

“I actually know a place where we can find a lot of spare parts,” she said. 

“Woulnd’t be considered stealing if you take items from these sites?” Optimus suddenly asked. 

“They’re called junkyards for a reason. It’s where people throw away things to either be recycled or disposed of. They’re not considered anything of value, so no one would really care if they go missing. What we would be doing is called healthy recycling,” Emily explained.  

“There’s a saying that says another man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” she grinned. 

“It’s not illegal if that’s what you’re worried about,” she added when noticing Optimus’s skeptical look. 

“Hmm. This could prove to be more efficient. Ratchet, perhaps you could let Emily and (Name) look for the parts you need,” he said. 

Ratchet then sighed. “Fine. I’ll make a list. Thought I doubt you will find everything I need,” he said, taking out a datapad and writing something on it. 

“Alright, then let’s get to work. I can show you the coordinates so you can ground bridge us there,” Emily stood up from the couch and approached Optimus as he was at the main computer. You waited for Ratchet, happy to do something useful. 

After Ratchet gave you the list and Emily gave the coordinates, you used the ground bridge to go the the junkyard she mentioned. After jumping out, you and Emily felt slightly woozy as the green vortex closed behind you. 

“Wow. That was not what I imagined. I feel like my stomach made a flip,” Emily said, recovering from her dizziness. 

“Yeah. They did tell us that the first time using it can cause disorientation,” you said then looked around the junkyard. 

“Alright. What are we looking for?” Emily asked as you checked the list. 

“Some panels, screws, fuses, and… I guess parts you could find in cars,” you said hesitantly as you didn’t know much about these parts. 

“Let me see,” Emily said, and you kneeled down to show her the list. 

“Ah, I know those parts. How about I looked for them and you can find those panels?” she suggested. 

“Sounds good to me,” you said. 

“Great. Let’s get to work then,” Emily slapped her hands together and you separated to find the parts Ratchet needed. 

[jymwahuwu]

I love and think about Emperor Jing Yuan a lot. Like a servant girl getting called in to be the emperor Jing Yuan's Concubine 😋

I love ancient China like the history, art and clothing. when I think about Chinese Emperor Jing Yuan I think of Cinderella Chef (animated version) it's so cute and romantic. I also think about the fic series I used to read in 2020 or 2019 when the reader is the selected tailor for the emperor and the emperor falls in love.

It was such a good story, with many good different story elements to it even though it's was an yandere x reader 😭 and I'm not even exaggerating how good it is. It was slow burn yandere yet sooo good and worth it

I have to read it again cause it's sooo good.

There's sooo many good art of Jing Yuan in ancient Chinese clothing and I love and appreciate it sm 🤤

Jing Yuan kept a servant girl as his concubine, wanting her by his side every moment. As emperor, he faced countless threats and worried constantly for her safety. Yet, he couldn’t resist making her his bride, even though the public and his family disapproved. How could a servant girl from a humble background become empress alongside the emperor? But he paid no attention to their criticisms, choosing instead to live in his Fantasies with her. She was the only woman he’d ever met who cared for him beyond his wealth and title, and he was determined to keep her close forever. 😇

Wow, I also like Chinese palace stories actually!! What you said made me imagine a lot. It turns out that Jing Yuan is so suitable for the palace AU🥰✊

Have you watched "Story of Yanxi Palace"? It was a popular palace drama in 2018, and social media was all about it at that time. The historical prototype of the female protagonist is Empress Xiaoyichun (孝儀純皇后). She first started as a concubine. During her lifetime, she was the "Imperial Noble Consort" (皇貴妃), which was the highest position among the concubines after Empress. The core of its story is about a confident servant woman who starts from the bottom and moves up through the ranks with wisdom and courage.

A negative example is "Ruyi's royal love in the palace". The show still gets a lot of negative criticism in China today (yes, that's happening in 2024) - for its slut-shaming and superiority theories. The lower class people must be loyal to the noble people, otherwise they will be severely punished. There are a lot of torture scenes of women, never criticizing the mistakes of the misogynistic system, vilifying all historical figures just to beautify the female protagonists, advocating that women must be loyal to one man throughout their lives or else they are sluts, vilifying and torturing ambitious women, etc.

Oh, I'm sorry I really hate that TV show so I'm talking too much about it, but to get back to the point, it occurred to me that if Jing Yuan were the emperor, he would be very - very infatuated and dedicated. There was an emperor in Chinese history called "Emperor Xiaozong of Ming"(明孝宗) who insisted on living a monogamous life with only one empress. The same is true for Jing Yuan! Jing Yuan has only married you from beginning to end! You are one of his servants. No matter what your personality is, witty and lively/shy and kind, or even arrogant, Jing Yuan finds you really cute🥰💖He is very happy that you entered the palace and were assigned to serve him. He will sometimes sleep on your lap and ask you to feed him. He was like a big sleeping lion. But no one in politics dares to underestimate Jing Yuan because he always predicts everything.

Jing Yuan built a fruit garden in the palace, as well as a place to raise cats and birds. He got to pet cute cats and birds every day. The kittens purred around him. Maybe you were the servant who took care of the cats here. And he discovered you💖You are so suitable to be the mother of cats. And maybe he's hiding his identity and you care about his health and happiness before his status.

Politics and the harem are closely related. Those ministers petitioned Jing Yuan to marry a girl who matched his status, but he would not marry any girl except you. This is his own business! There was an emperor named "Emperor Gaozong of Tang"(唐高宗) in Chinese history. Despite the objections of his ministers, he insisted on marrying his father's concubine (named "Wuzhao"- 武曌) as his queen and sharing power with her. This is a very real love among emperors! After her husband's death, the queen became the only female emperor of China. The expression of the emperor's love for someone is to give them the best at all costs, including power, fame, wealth, and status. Jing Yuan wants to give it to you. He married you. Based on your status as a maid, you start as a concubine but work your way up. And he will also give birth to kitty babies with you. Those little princesses and princes running happily are all of your blood and his.

And he also decided to discuss politics and decide national affairs with you, collectively called "two saints" (based on Wuzhao's history haha), and share power with you. Because he knows how smart and cute you are, able to sharpen your claws and handle government affairs💖He is also ready to build a royal mausoleum, where only the two of you are buried together (it may be a bit scary, but this is how the Chinese emperors express their love haha). Even after Wuzhao became the empress, she didn’t build a mausoleum independently because she loved her husband. No matter what, you are always together, with sweetness and honor forever💖

[void-ink-studios]

Rinse and Spit - A Mouthwashing AU

I fully blame @hrhowling for infecting me with these brain worms, and @an-artist-complex for encouraging them.

So....

Here we go.

There is an intention to make this the first part of a series, but in case that doesn't happen, I at least wanted to make this first part stand alone.

Enjoy~

Word Cout: 2,100

Content Warning: Jimmy is his own content warning.

Curly had decided he hated the sun set.  At least the sunset that seemed to be the only thing displayed in the Med Bay window screen.  He hated every aspect of it.

He hated the way the reds and oranges were too bright, painfully so, constantly bathing his body in its burning light.  He hated the way it flickered and tore, as if a company like Pony Express couldn’t have afforded to spring for a screen that actually worked.

Or, in light of recent news, maybe they really couldn’t after all.

He hated how it buzzed and crackled, never offering him a single moment of silence as he sat here.

He hated it so very much.

Yet he poured every ounce of energy he had into looking at it.  Studied every pixel, every strange artifact of light.

Because what was the alternative?

The alternative was acknowledging the agony he was in, every moment, every breath, every slight shift in his body.  The alternative was to stare into the metal ceilings of the Tulpar and worry about each and every seam.  The alternative was to wiggle his limbs, and see if today was the day he had the strength and pain tolerance to sit up.

He deserved this.  He knew he deserved it.  It had become part of his regular cycle of thoughts, right alongside wishing for death, or praying that this is just some horrific dream he’d wake up from any day now.

But the longer he stared at that god damn sunset, the more he had to come to grips with reality.  And every second of that reality was earned and deserved.

He often thought back to where he went wrong. And there was a lot of time to think.

He thought about telling... Him it would all be okay. How he listened to Him talk about how there was no survivors despite the efforts of the brave Captain Curly. Curly had been so confused about what He meant at the time. He could've seen the warning it was. The threat it was. Why didn't he go to the cockpit with Him?

He thought about Her, desperately hiding the gun so that even if she couldn't reach it, He wouldn't either. When she told him she was pregnant, told him a second time what happened. Curly had been so worried about Her hurting herself that he didn't even stop to think about how he was hurting her.

He thought about that late night conversation with Her. About the dead pixel on the screen in the Lounge. He had told her how he looked at the bigger picture. How true that was. Standing too far back to acknowledge the details, the important details. Why were there no locks on the sleeping quarter's door, but they needed a code just to get some fucking sweetener?

Anya...

Maybe that's why he stared so heavily at the sunset to his left. Maybe he was looking for a dead pixel of his own. Just something that could connect him to Anya. Something that could tell her that he Understood.

He stared at the sunset because what was the alternative?

The alternative was to look at the other side of the room.

Curly didn't get many visitors. He didn't blame them. Swansea wasn't paid nearly enough to look at his traitorous captain, and Daisuke was just a kid, one who didn't need an anatomy lesson.

No, Curly didn't get visitors. Only one of two people would ever be on that side of the room. And he couldn't dare look either of them in the eye.

He decided to try and sit up today. He hadn't tried in... Jesus, how long has it been? How long has he been sitting like this?

Regardless, he had tried a few times before. He was sick of sitting in his own filth. Festering in his own blood and pus. His body protested his every movement as he tried to prop himself up on the stumps where his hands once were.

I hope this hurts.

It did...

I hope this hurts.

It so very did. He couldn't do it.

He heard the heavy doors slide open, metal grinding against metal. He didn't look. He couldn't.

Please no...

"Feeling lively today, aren't we?"

Curly still couldn't look at Him. He knew what was coming.

"Hey. If you're awake enough to squirm, you're awake enough to look at me."

He still didn't move.

"I said Look at me."

Curly felt hands on his head, forcefully turned to face Him.

A face of a friend. Or, what was once a friend. Or, maybe not even that. Whatever he was then, it didn't change what he was now. A truth Curly tried to ignore, one that he was forced to stare at every day.

Jimmy was a monster.

"...You still think you're too good for us, don't you?"

Curly stared at Jimmy. Before, Jimmy would say things he thought unnerving, but ultimately harmless. He had made dark jokes before, things Curly would laugh at uncomfortably, and they'd move on. He'd say things that were needlessly defensive or aggressive, things Curly would try to talk him down from, with mixed results, and they'd move on.

Curly couldn't do either of those things now. Even if he could speak, he couldn't speak over the look in Jimmy's eyes. Was that emptiness always there?

Jimmy grabbed him by the collar of his hospital gown, pulling a wheezing gasp from his mangled throat.

"You think you're too good for us. For this job. Even when we're keeping you alive and cleaning up your blood and shit, you still think you're too good for us."

Jimmy made a sound, one that might've been a laugh or a scoff.

"Well. So much for your greener pastures."

Jimmy dropped him back onto the bed with a rough thud, sending shocks of pain up and down his back and head.

Curly watched as Jimmy casually, oh so casually, walked towards the desk scattered with pills. The former captain couldn't look at his despised sunset anymore. Not when he knew what was coming.

"At least you have these to make you feel better. Open up."

I hope this hurts.

It does.

I hope this hurts.

Jimmy is far from gentle in opening his mouth, shoving fingers against his tongue and down his throat. Curly chokes, he does every time. He had thought he at least would stop struggling from reflex, but his body fails him again.

He flailed his arms against Jimmy's shoulders and face as his mouth is wrenched further open and the pill is dropped in.

"Stop fucking moving."

Curly wheezed as Jimmy lifted his head up by his jaw and slammed him back down. Small mercies it's only against a pillow.

Jimmy used his fingers to shove the pill down his throat, either not knowing or not caring that he can't breathe.

It's over before Curly knows it, trying his best to gather his breath back as Jimmy's fingers retract. The two pilots look at each other, a pair of empty eyes meeting a lone trembling one.

"I'm fixing things. Stop looking at me like that."

Curly flinched, but it doesn't make the incoming punch any softer. Or the next two or three.

"You're not better than me, Curly. I'm the fucking captain now. And that means-"

"Jimmy?"

Curly's breath paused, his eye flicking back to the door. Anya stood there, compressed in her body language.

"What?"

"U-Uhm, Swansea wanted to see you? Something about a problem in the Lounge?"

"Unbelievable. Can't you guys do anything without me?"

"If it's not a good time-"

"No, no, I'll go take a look. Do my job. Someone has to around here, right?"

Curly watched carefully as Anya steeled her expression. She moved out of the doorway, no longer meeting Jimmy's gaze.

"Right... I'll take over from here."

"About time."

And with that, he's gone. Curly was aware how loud his breathing is. For once, even the buzzing of the window screen seemed quiet, drowned out in comparison to his labored breaths.

Anya moved to sit next to him. Just as she always does. She's always quiet, occasionally filling him in on the goings on of the ship. Told him about their precious Cargo.

Fucking Mouthwash.

What a joke.

Today, she's silent. Mostly just staring at the pain medications on the table across from her.

He wished he could say something to her. He wished he had his own dead pixel to point out to here. One hidden right under her nose, right here in Med Bay. Then she'd smile, maybe laugh a little bit about it, like she would've before-

Take responsibility

"How are you today, cap- Curly?"

Curly looked at her. Anya. Sweet Anya...

The best he could giver her was a shrug, even as it pulled painfully on his neck and shoulders.

"Quiet day today... We ran out of Chicken Noodle Soup. Looks like it'll be clear soup for now."

Take responsibility

Anya looked at him. Her eyes were empty to, but not like Jimmy's. Hers were drained.

"...Are you okay, Curly? I um... I heard Jimmy."

He didn't know what to think about that. She's asking him if he's okay? He doesn't drop his gaze, as much as he wants to. She deserves better.

And isn't that just the thing?

Anya deserves better. She always had. She should be in medical school, not drifting in a floating cage in who knows what section of the void of space. She should have had a better captain. A better crew. Someone who could-

Take responsibility

"Now you know how it feels."

Her voice cuts through him, her words akin to dumping ice water onto his chest. Her face said she regrets saying it the second it left her mouth.

But it took all the air out from Curly's lungs.

"I-I'm sorry, that was cruel..."

No, Anya, I deserved that.

"You know something silly?"

Curly tilted his head at her. She had his attention. Undivided. Even when it didn't mean much anymore.

"...I can't bring myself to hate you. Even though you got us into this mess. Even though you didn't do anything. I can't hate you."

You should. I should've said something. Done something.

"A part of me wants to. Would make things easier. Wouldn't fix anything, but it'd make things easier. I don't know how much I can keep going, Captain."

Curly's breath hitched, his eye flicking between her and the pill bottle.

He groaned, gurgled, tried to force his useless throat to make words. He knows she'd probably want to hear from him the least but... well, she should hear from someone.

"Don't try to strain yourself, Captain. Just... try to go to sleep. Forget I said anything. I'm sorry."

No, you shouldn't be sorry, this isn't your fault, I-

The door slid open one more time, and the both of them flinched. Neither of them looked at the door. They looked at each other instead. Dreading the same phantom opening his mouth and making some remark-

"We need to talk."

Swansea...

Curly looked at the round man, a grim expression on his face.

"Swansea, I just got back here, I can't leave him alone like that. He just had his pill, he could vomit, and I need to be there to adjust him if he does."

"It won't be long. But we need to talk."

"About...?"

"Something that needs to be done. Privately."

Swansea cast a dark look at Curly, a withering one. The mechanic and captain rarely saw eye to eye, especially during those last few days before the crash. He had never visited him in the Med Bay. Not that he blamed him.

"Is it a team meeting again? Is Daisuke and-"

"Daisuke has Jim distracted for a bit. This isn't a team meeting. This is a you and me meeting. Meet me in Utility, if you want."

Anya looked between him and Curly. "I really should keep an eye on him."

"You can do whatever you want. But I have a plan. You can either be in or out of it. Just figured you might want in."

Anya wrung her hands together, looking at the sunset.

"...You'll be alright, captain?"

Curly nods. He can at least give her that much. She doesn't have to care for him, not right now. She looks hesitant. He tries to nod a little harder, but the wheeze that escapes him betrayed his efforts.

"Whenever you're ready, Anya."

"...I am."

The two turn to leave. Curly groans, trying to get his voice to wrap around the words he wants. Words he should've said a long time ago. Words he doesn't think he'll ever be able to say.

Take responsibility

I'm sorry.

[arabella377]

the legal system is Fucked Up

[blissfulalchemist]

Mentally ill from the fact that Joshua had to hold back quite a lot any jealousy he felt or instinct to step in for Alma with advances from other men. Like yeah he would step in still if it got bad but like he couldn’t do the slightly passive thing of the like arm around her or slyly threaten with fire. Like most he could do was step in when the men couldn’t take no for an answer or starting to get too handsy and even then he had to limit what he could do!

[giannaln4]

Wet Dream

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando had a wet dream and he needs to take care of it.  (1.7k words)

warnings: mdni, + 18, smut, masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, needy!lando

a/n: this might or might not be inspired solely by this picture. i'm not gonna lie, this is pure smut. i apologise in advance. also i'm sorry for the abrupt ending 😭 i never know how to finish these. anyway, please send some requests!

↺ back to navigation— send me a request!

The only thing that could be heard in your shared room were your moans, loud and desperate for a release. 

You were on top of Lando as he held onto your hips for dear life, his eyes closing as the overwhelming feeling of his incoming orgasm started to grow. 

“Are you close, baby?” He managed to spit out. He needed to make sure he didn’t come before you, so his thumb landed on your clit to bring you closer to the edge. Your moans were intensifying, and god, he loved the look on your face when you were about to come.

He opened his eyes and… nothing. Nothing but pure darkness. 

He looked down at his crotch, only to spot his painful cock making a tent under the blankets. His breathing was heavy, and he was sweating a lot. 

Fuck. 

He released the bedsheets he didn’t realise he was fisting and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. 

He looked next to him and spotted you there, peacefully sleeping and completely unaware of the dream he just had. 

He closed his eyes again, hoping he would be able to ignore his painful cock, but of course he couldn’t, because as soon as he closed his eyes, flashes of his wet dream and how undeniably beautiful you looked riding him came back to him. 

He took another deep breath as he opened his eyes, once again encountering the dark room. His hand was slowly sneaking down the blankets, and when he finally found his bulge, he gave it a hard squeeze for some relief. He let out an involuntary moan, not loud enough so that it would wake you up, but the room was so silent he thought it would. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it in, so instead of trying to relieve himself right next to you, he knew the right thing would be to go somewhere else and not disturb your sleep. 

He got up carefully and left the bed, looking back at you, before locking himself in the bathroom. 

He sat on the closed toilet, pulling down his boxers and finally freeing his aching member. He squeezed it again, and again, and again, before he started stroking it slowly. His grip was firm, and his groans were low as he finally gave it what it so desperately needed. 

Using his spit and the pre cum leaking from his tip, his strokes got faster, and Lando rolled up his shirt and trapped it between his teeth as he looked down at his hand, his mind trying to replace it with your pretty mouth. With that image in his mind, it got harder to contain his moans. 

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ 

You rolled over, expecting to find your boyfriend to cuddle, like you always did. Instead, all you found was an empty spot next to you. It was still warm, so you knew he hadn’t been gone for too long. 

You closed your eyes again, figuring he’d be back in just a moment, but you heard something that made you open them again. A loud breath that you thought could only mean something had happened. 

You got up immediately, worried as you made your way to the bathroom. But once you were close enough, it clicked. You finally understood what he was doing. 

You were about to turn around, go back to bed, and pretend like it never happened, figuring he needed some privacy to finish his business, but something between your legs was begging you to help him out and calm down whatever had gotten into him.

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ 

He was being louder than he intended, but it felt so good he didn’t even realise. His shirt was still between his teeth and his eyes now squeezed shut as he tried to bring himself to a sweet release.

His mind was replaying his dream, echoes of both of your moans filling his ears and the vivid image of you on top of him, something he wished he could plaster in his eyelids, until he heard a knock on the door that made him stop what he was doing 

“You okay in there?” He heard you ask from the other side of the door. Shit. 

“Huh?” Was all he managed to say. 

“Can I come in?”

“No!” He was quick to reply, “I’ll be right out.”

He couldn’t help but be embarrassed, feeling like a teenage boy who was just caught getting off where he wasn’t supposed to. He was ready to just go back out and act like he wasn’t just jerking off to a dream he just had.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” You asked. You didn’t hear him say anything after that, and you instantly regretted interrupting him. Maybe that was something he needed to do alone. Maybe he needed a release but didn’t need… you. 

Those thoughts were interrupted when you heard shuffling inside, followed by footsteps that got louder as he got closer to the door. 

Lando opened it, his hair messy and his shirt wet from stuffing it in his mouth. “Yes, please,” he said with begging eyes. 

You crashed your lips into him, pulling him back to the bed. 

“I can’t believe you were doing that without me,” you said against his lips. 

“I didn’t wanna bother you.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap, hands falling on your hips as he brought you closer to him. 

You moaned when you felt his hard cock against you. “And keep this from me?” You asked as you moved your hips.

He bucked his hips involuntarily, the friction feeling delicious against your wet core. You kept moving on top of him as he discarded your sleeping garments, falling somewhere on the floor. You decided to do the same for him, getting rid of his shirt and running your hands up and down his muscles.

Neither of you could control the sounds that were falling from your lips, and yours only got louder when his right hand sneaked between your almost naked bodies to find your folds. He pushed one finger inside you, pumping vigorously.

“Mhm, already so wet for me,” he mumbled against your skin, his lips travelling down your neck.

“Couldn’t help it, it sounded like you were having fun in the bathroom,” you said, and you could feel a smirk creeping on his lips.

“Well, you drive me crazy even in my dreams.”

“Is that what happened?”

He hummed in response. “You should’ve seen how pretty you looked riding me.”

“Let’s make it come true then.” You pushed him on his back and got rid of his last piece of clothing, letting you see how needy his cock was. 

You admired him for a moment, and you could see him struggling to keep his hands to himself. When you finally decided you were ready, you started crawling to get on top of him, your hands landing on his bare chest.

“Ready?” 

“I’m always ready for you.” He replies, as sweet as ever. “Fuck, you’re so wet and beautiful,” Lando said, holding onto your hips as you began to get comfortable, both of your legs on either side of him. He gave your hips a hard squeeze as you got situated, just like in his dream.

You finally took his cock in your hand, stroking it slowly as you guided it to your dripping hole, a sigh of relief leaving your mouths when you sank down.

He groaned as his grip on your hips tightened when you lifted and sank back down onto him slowly.

“Feels good, baby?”

“So, so good.” His head fell back into the pillows when you rolled against him, and you couldn’t help but smile when he whimpered again. After a moment, he looked up at you. “Y/N?” He moaned your name, but it sounded more like a question.

You brushed a stray of his dark curls off his forehead. “Yeah?”

He let out another moan, his eyes falling to where you’re connected before meeting your eyes. “Faster, please.” And you listened, you began to ride him faster. “Just like that, baby,” Lando cried out.

You moaned as his dick spread you out. You began to bounce down faster and harder. Lando was losing his mind as he watched you move faster, your nails scratching down his torso. He was filling you so good he had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head every time his cock hit that sweet spot.

“Not gonna last long,” he warned you, his thumb finding your clit without even looking, although his eyes were on you the entire time, all of you, how your pussy looked as it swalowed his cock, how your boobs bounced with every roll of your hips, how your face contortioned in pleasure, and how your mouth fell open to let out the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard. He didn’t dare to look away; in case he was dreaming again, he didn’t wanna miss a single detail, and let’s face it, he didn’t wanna wake up this time.

“I’m close,” you breathed out, your legs burning from riding him, but you didn’t care; you only cared about how good he felt inside you.

“Cum with me, baby.” Both his hands returned to your hips, gripping them as he planted his feet on the bed to thrust up into you and help you move faster and more aggressively, trying to push you both over your edges.

Your own hand went to rub small circles where you were missing him as your other one fell on his shoulder to hold onto something, and before you knew it, you were coming around him. Your toes curled into the sheets, and your body trembled on top of his, making you fall forward and collapse across his defined chest.

"Fuck,” he whimpered when you squeezed him repeatedly. 

Lando had to do all the work himself, thrusting his hips upwards to meet yours, because your body wouldn’t and couldn’t move anymore as your orgasm racked through you. With four hard thrusts to your cunt, his load of cum shot up into your pussy and coated your slick walls.

Your bodies laid together as you both tried to catch your breath. His hand was rubbing your back, and his lips left a kiss on your temple, something he always did after you had sex.

“So, you had a sex dream?” You asked after a moment of silence. Lando chuckled at your question, kissing your shoulder softly before replying.

“And you just made it come true.”

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

[wolvietxt]

★ logan can’t sleep without you

a/n : shorter thoughts formatted like this now! (~800 words)

logan had spent the first hour lying still, one arm thrown over his face, trying to block out the dim light filtering in from the window. he’d turned over a few times, each time expecting to feel you beside him, your steady breathing lulling him to sleep, but the space was empty. cold.

he grumbled to himself, shifting his body again, tossing the blanket off because suddenly it felt too hot. you weren’t gone for long. just out of town for a few days, something you had to take care of. you’d kissed him before you left, told him not to worry. he didn’t. not in the way you probably thought, anyway.

but this... this wasn’t normal. he could feel the fatigue in his bones, weighing down on him like gravity, but sleep just wouldn’t come. his mind kept wandering back to the same thought. you. where you were, what you were doing. it wasn’t that he doubted you could handle yourself. hell, you were tougher than most people he knew. it wasn’t even that.

it was the goddamn silence. the empty space next to him where you should’ve been. it was all wrong.

logan rolled over again, eyes squeezing shut as if forcing them closed would somehow drag him into sleep. his body ached from the day’s work, muscles heavy and begging for rest, but his mind refused to follow. his thoughts were too loud, too restless. he’d grown too used to your presence beside him. too used to the way your fingers would brush against his skin unconsciously in the middle of the night, grounding him in that quiet way only you could.

he opened his eyes again, staring at the ceiling. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, voice low and rough. 

another hour passed with no sleep in sight, and his frustration was only growing. he shifted again, flipping onto his side and glaring at the empty space where you’d normally be curled up against him. 

the sound of the front door unlocking made him sit up quickly, heart kicking up a beat, though he’d never admit it. he listened as your footsteps padded softly into the room, and there you were - finally. you smiled at him, a bit tired but happy to be home.

“hey,” you whispered, setting your bag down quietly. “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“you didn’t,” logan muttered, voice rougher than usual. he tried to play it cool, but he was already moving over, making space for you in the bed, his eyes glued to your every movement. “couldn’t sleep.”

you paused, giving him a curious look. “couldn’t sleep?” you repeated, pulling off your jacket and slipping into bed beside him. 

logan huffed. “don’t make a thing outta it,” he grumbled, but the second you were close enough, he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you against his chest. “just… missed you, is all.”

you couldn’t help but smile at how gruff he sounded, the way his words were soft despite the grumbling. “i missed you too,” you whispered, snuggling into him. you could feel how tightly he was holding onto you, something protective in the way his body curled around yours.

“yeah, well… don’t leave again,” he muttered, his hand coming up to brush the hair from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. he pressed a kiss to your temple, a little grumpy but undeniably affectionate.

“you got all needy without me, huh?” you teased lightly, expecting him to grumble back, but instead, he just pulled you closer, his face buried in your hair.

“maybe,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice barely above a whisper. 

your heart softened at his admission. it wasn’t like him to need anyone, let alone admit it, but there he was, holding onto you like you were the only thing that could give him peace. 

you smiled into the darkness, your fingers tracing small circles on his arm. “i’m not going anywhere.”

logan didn’t say anything else, just pressed his face closer to your neck, breathing you in, like that alone was enough to finally let him relax. within minutes, his breathing slowed, his grip around you loosening slightly as sleep finally took over.

you stayed like that, wrapped up in his warmth, his usual tough exterior softened just for you. and as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that despite all his grumbling, despite how hard he tried to hide it, he needed you as much as you needed him.

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