#mitski you ruin me....

[nolvini]

you believe me like a god / I betray you like a man

[sentientsky]

“once more to see you,” mitski

[sizzleissues]

Thank you Olivia Rodrigo, Chappell Roan, the Cranberries, the last Dinner Party, Mitski and many more for getting it. You get it. (‘:

[b-writing-777]

Pointless apologies

I’m sorry my babies.

Sorry for tearing away what I have.

Sorry for ruining your lives so prematurely.

Sorry for being your mother.

Sorry for being the burning pain on your cheek,

The granite weight on your back.

I’m sorry for everything.

Everything that has happened,

& that is to come.

[evilwrongdoer]

i put on "i bet on losing dogs" and after it came "yes, and" and i got whiplash honestly. like, i bet on losing dogs, and?

[suunfilled]

hey girl (gender neutral)! thanks for giving me a buffet for thought on this fine saturday evening. <3

I WANT TO BE GREAT.

BLUE EYE SAMURAI (2023)

[titan-god-helios]

nothing in the world belongs to me but my love, mine all mine /lyr

[merevide]

i always thought the choice was mine. and i was right, but i just chose wrong. but i just chose wrong. but i just chose wrong. but i just chose

[fandomhopped]

first love/late spring

pairing: fwb!logan howlett x fem!reader; 2nd person pov

summary: logan and reader have been sleeping together for a while with an unspoken rule to keep it casual, but that goes to hell when logan catches feelings. however, reader is an independent boss bitch and hates men<3

warnings: heavy swearing, hella mentions of sexual situations, substance abuse, brief sexual content(nothing serious fr), creepy guy in a bar, blood, bar fight, mentions of sex trafficking and resulting trauma, daddy issues, fluff, angst asf, lowkey scott slander (i dont mean it i love him)

word count: 9.1k

a/n: reader has light manipulation abilities but theyre not mentioned that often lol, also reader takes a lotta shots at jean just cuz she pisses me off. side note: idk the true meaning of the song i used as the title, there are many different interpretations. i found the song after i had alr written the story and the lyrics resonated pls don’t jump down my throat if it doesn’t align <3

there’s not a millimeter of space between you and logan as he holds you against his body. you’re sleeping soundly, and he watches you breathe all night, not bothering to even think about sleep for himself. the sun came up three hours ago, he felt it on his back.

when you drink, you always wake up early the next morning. you two drank a lot together last night. and like every time you drink with logan, you ended up in his bed.

he tries to block the sun from your face with his body so it won’t wake you up. he knows when you finally do, this little illusion that you're his will all be over. everything you said last night won’t matter. you’ll go back to your room. he’ll stay in bed. you’ll both go back to acting like it never happened.

you always leave him swiftly. you always go downstairs and drink coffee from the same mug and act like nothing happened. without a stutter, it’s a routine.

since he moved into the mansion, he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that the female teachers were attractive. and, of course, he was first drawn to jean. he won’t deny that he still harbored some feelings for her when you came to his room all those months ago, but she made it abundantly clear that she loves scott.

then one night, you slipped a bottle of whiskey into the mansion and invited him to join you in drinking it. you said some things that made him sit closer to you. that was just the beginning. he woke up the next morning to an empty bed but distinctly remembers you falling asleep next to him, so he assumed you woke up and left.

logan is a pro at acting like some things never happen, but he wasn’t expecting you to act the same. he dismissed it as a one-off, drunken night.

then it happened again… and again and again, and you continued to act like it never happened.

which, he was fine with. this wouldn’t be the first time he’s had a with-benefits situation, but there’s something different about you. you’re badass. you’re beautiful. he really respects you. you fit him perfectly.

and you’re mean. you don’t smile all that much, really only when you’re drinking is what logan soon found out. you’re not always outright mean to people, it’s usually deserved. you don’t take anybody’s shit. you’ll let people know when they’re in the wrong or they’re pissing you off. you’re sarcastic and rudely witty.

that was just another thing that attracted him to you. but, God, were you the meanest in the mornings, especially when you’re hungover.

unfortunately for logan, he has developed a small, tiny, itty bitty, barely-there crush on you. just catching a scent of your perfume has him rolling his eyes in the back of his head and white-knuckling whatever is directly in front of him.

the thoughts of you under him, on top of him, in front of him, on your knees for him plague his mind all. day. long. then last night, you had him rock solid from just a few drunken words.

“you’ve ruined all men for me,” you said as he kissed down your neck.

“hmm?” he hummed as his hands roamed your body under your shirt.

“nobody could ever fuck me like you do,” you told him, pulling at his hair roughly. he lets out a deep groan at the feeling.

he’s never picked up his pace of getting someone’s clothes off so quickly. he ripped your favorite pair of pj shorts in the process, mumbling that he’ll buy you a new pair.

with him deeply inside you, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other sending you over the edge with his mouth leaving marks all over your chest, you say breathily, “fuck, you’re perfect for me.”

the moment hasn’t left his mind since.

“i’m hot,” you mutter, pushing the sheets from your legs. “you’re hot.”

“oh, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, his lips turned up.

“i’m about to have a heat stroke,” you return, squirming around and shoving his arms from around you.

he lets go of you and gives you some space, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. a deep sigh leaves him.

“i’m gonna throw up,” you tell him, groaning and curling up into the fetal position.

“are you serious? don’t puke in my bed,” he says, leaning up to look at you.

you roll your eyes. “no, i’m not serious,” you snap at him.

“‘you wanna take a shower?” he asks, his lip curling up at the thought of you ruining his sheets (and not in the way he usually prefers).

“i feel like shit right now, logan. i don’t want to fuck you in the shower,” you tell him roughly, sitting up and glaring over at him.

he watches you stand up out of his bed and put yout shirt on. “‘s not what i meant,” he grumbles, looking away from her. he throws the sheets off his body and grabs his jeans from the night before.

he runs his hands down his face and then looks up only to see the door closing behind you as you leave him. again.

“whew, late night?” ororo asks you as soon as you walk into the kitchen, changed into some presentable clothes rather than the ripped shorts and oversized tshirt you walked back to your room in.

you ignore the woman as you open the cabinet to grab your mug. the same one you use every morning.

but it’s not there.

“where’s my mug?” you ask, glancing around the kitchen to see it’s not just ororo but also jean and scott there.

“is this yours?” scott asks, holding up the mug in his hand.

your gaze darkens. “yes,” she grits out, tightening her jaw.

“that’s my bad. i didn’t know this was yours,” he says, standing up and walking over to the sink. “i’ll wash it and you can use it.”

you feel your skin crawl as he turns on the hot water. “stop,” you say lowly, walking to him and turning off the water. “you can’t—.” you stop yourself as you breathe heavily. you rip the cup from his hands.

“hey, it’s just a mug,” ororo says to you, “what’s up?”

“it’s not—,” you cut yourself off again and take a deep breath, shaking your head. you turn on the cold water from the sink and carefully wash the mug.

“seriously, what’s going on with you?” jean asks as scott rejoins her side.

you roll your neck. “i’ve been here for years, and you don’t know which one is my mug?” you ask scott, not looking anywhere but your mug until you’re sure it’s clean.

“i never noticed before, ‘sorry,” he says then turns to jean with a shrug.

the light beaming in through the window shines a little brighter as you continue to shake your head, muttering things under your breath that the others can’t make out.

“it really is just a mug,” ororo says carefully, looking over your figure in concern.

“except it’s not,” you retort, attentively drying off the ceramic with a towel. you then pour some coffee into the mug and hold it close to your chest, turning back to the other mutants.

“what—,” jean begins but logan walks into the kitchen just as she starts and she stops herself.

her surveys everyone’s demeanor then looks at you. “what’s wrong with you?” he asks, walking to the cabinet and grabbing whichever cup is closest to his hand when he reaches in. he pours himself some coffee and turns back to them expectantly.

“scott was using my mug,” you tell him, leaning against the counter.

“why?” he asks scott, eyeing the man.

“to drink coffee. why does it matter?” he asks in return, scoffing.

“it’s hers,” logan returns, his stare hardens and he looks at scott like he’s an idiot.

ororo laughs humorlessly. “what does that mean? it’s just a mug,” she asks, looking between you.

you glare at her. “it was my father’s and now it’s mine.”

“the same father that sold you?” jean asks, her face contorting. you shift your weight uncomfortably. “why would you want that?”

“why don’t you just back the fuck off, bitch?” you snap at her, stepping toward her.

“woah, girl, calm down,” ororo intervenes, holding her hand toward you like you’re a wild animal. you scoff. “we get it. it’s special to you. that’s all you had to say.”

you roll your eyes at them. you leave the group and return to your room. logan watches you go then turns back to the others with his eyebrows raised. “did you say sold her?” he asks jean.

“when he found out she was a mutant—,” she begins.

“jean,” ororo interrupts her, shaking her head at the girl.

jean continues, “—her father sold her into a mutant sex trafficking ring,” she reveals, looking only at logan, “that’s where we found her and then brought her here.”

his face contorts, and he looks down into his coffee. “shit,” he comments.

“she doesn’t talk about it to anybody, and, out of respect, we don’t talk about it either,” ororo says pointedly at the telepath.

logan is seething all day over the new information. he hates to think you went through that for God knows how long.

after the incident, logan doesn’t see you for a while. he doesn’t know how. you’re a teacher and you live down the hall from him, yet he still doesn’t even catch a whiff of your perfume.

“logan, meet me in my office,” he hears charles’ voice in his head. he obeys and within a minute, he’s standing before the professor. “you should leave her alone for a bit.”

her brow furrows. “come again?”

charles says your name and logan clenches his jaw. “she’s destructive right now. you should let her be.”

“is she okay?” the wolverine asks, concern growing in his stomach, and it makes him feel sick.

“she’ll be just fine. this happens from time to time,” he tells him, pressing his lips into a thin line. “you know of her circumstances.”

“her circumstances?” logan growls, scowling down at the old man, “you knew what she went through and didn’t think to tell me? you know what’s going on between us and didn’t think maybe i needed to know that? what if she had a breakdown when we were together? i wouldn’t have known what was happening.”

charles’ lips turn down into a small frown. “that’s not my information to tell.”

logan storms off in a huff, muttering under his breath.

that friday, he’s smoking a cigar in his bed, looking out the window at the moon, which is shining rather bright tonight. he hears a few quiet knocks on his door. he opens the door, expecting it to be a student.

“hey,” you say, waving a bottle of jack in his face before pushing past him into the room. “'hope you don’t mind, i got started without you.”

“you always do,” he comments, closing the door, putting out the cigar, and following you to sit on his bed. “listen —.”

“i think i like that vodka more than this. this one makes my mouth taste weird,” you tell him, taking another sip out of the bottle before handing it to him.

he holds it and sighs. “look, we should—.”

“—take our clothes off?” you finish his sentence, smiling darkly at him. “i mean, it’s a little early, but i agree.”

“that’s not what i—.”

“—was going to say?” you guess his words, cutting him off again. “look at us finishing each other’s…” you trail off, looking at him expectantly. he sends you a deadpanned glance. “this is the part where you say ‘sentences.’ i think i’m better at this game than you are.”

he takes a long sip from the bottle before he looks at you. “can you be serious for a second?” he asks.

you scoff and take the bottle from his hands. “i don’t come to you like this to be serious, logan,” you say, putting the whiskey to your lips again.

“why do you come to me at all?” he asks quietly and gruffly.

you take another sip and place the bottle on the floor, scooting closer to him. “because you’re hot,” you say in a sultry voice, putting a hand on his thigh and slowly dragging it up, “and you call me ‘princess’ and ‘darling’,” you continue, reaching for his belt buckle. he doesn’t do anything to stop you, “and your hands.” you push the buckle out the way and unbutton his pants, dragging down the zipper slowly. “and your tongue.” you reach your hand into his pants. “and this.”

he breathes heavily, completely lost in the euphoria that is you.

he forces himself to snap out of him and shakes his head. he pushes your hand away and stands up, taking a few steps away.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him, grabbing the bottle and standing also. “do you need some more?” you ask, holding the drink out for him, confusion written all over your face.

he holds his hands out in front of him as if to deny the offer. “it’s…,” he trails off, pushing a deep breath through his nose.

your shoulders drop along your face. you tilt your head in disbelief. “oh, my fuck. they told you,” you conclude. you turn around and sit back down on the bed. he stays silent, just looking at you. “okay, so what now? you don’t want me anymore ‘cause i’m used up?” you ask, slurring your words a little.

“no,” he denies without hesitation.

your sober personality is back even though you’re still drinking the whiskey like you’ve been in the dry desert for weeks without water.

“then what is it, logan? you don’t wanna do this ‘cause my hair isn’t blood red?” you ask next, raising your brow and looking at him expectantly.

his face contorts. “what’re you talking about?” he asks gruffly.

you chuckle at him. “i’m not a fucking idiot, old man. i know you want jean so bad, but she doesn’t want you so i'm second choice” you say, then you shrug with one shoulder. “i’d’a gone with ororo, to be honest. have you seen her? i’d show her a good time,” you add.

“that’s not what this is,” he tells you, taking a step forward but not within arm's length of you.

“then what is it? just fucking tell me,” you say loudly, the room lights up as the moon shines brighter. “d’you want me to tell you ‘bout how i was a good, little daddy’s girl until i almost blinded my brother when i first got my powers? how about how my dad gave me away like he didn’t love me? d’you want me to cry in your arms about how i was passed around by mean men like a blunt when i was 14? why do you think i can only let you fuck me when i’m drunk?” you ask him sarcastically, but your voice breaks on your last words. you let out an unsteady breath. logan watches you cautiously, unsure of what to do. “is that what you want, logan?! you wanna be the big, strong man here?!” you ask him, crying now as you yell at the man in front of you.

your body slumps forward as you let the tears drop from your eyes, and you grip the bottle in your hands like a lifeline. you feel the bed dip beside you and the bottle pulled from your hands. you move your hands to your face, trying to pull yourself together.

you feel his big arms envelope you and pull you into his chest. that’s when the waterworks really break out.

logan’s never been to best with tears. he hasn’t had to deal with them too much, but his first instinct was to hold you as close as you would let him. he hates to see you like this. in all honesty, he wants to hunt down every man that ever put a finger on you and rip them to shreds. but, for now, he’ll hold you. as long as you would let him.

you wake up with araging headache. you’re hot, burning up, actually. you kick the blankets from your legs and turn over in the arms of the incredibly attractive man in bed next to you. you look at his sleeping face and sigh.

this is the part where you leave, but this time, you just snuggle into his chest and fall back asleep.

logan wakes up later than he usually does after nights like the last one. it’s normally the sound of the door closing wakes him up. but, this time, he sees your cute face smushed against his pec. he doesn’t fight the smile on his face.

you stir quickly after he wakes up. you rub your eyes and look around the room, then to logan. “i’m gonna puke,” you tell him, the remnants of the smile fall from his face. you pull away from him as your face blanches. “seriously,” you add and sit up quickly.

he reaches for the trash can beside his bed and holds it in front of you just in time. he holds your hair back with a look of absolute disgust while you clutch the bin close to your face and your body jerks with each gag.

once you're done, you wipe your mouth with the bottom of your shirt. you groan loudly and stand up from the bed. “i’m gonna take this with me,” you tell him, holding the can in your arms and moving toward the door.

“keep it,” he remarks, his lip curled up.

monday morning rolls around quicker than anybody wants. you walk into the kitchen and grab your mug, pouring coffee and looking around at others in the kitchen.

they’re talking amongst themselves, mentions of grading papers and some stupid answer a kid put as their answer on an assignment.

you just listen and sip your coffee peacefully. that is, until logan walks in. you move from in front of the coffee pot for him to get some. he nods in thanks as he joins your side.

“this coffee is awful,” you comment, pouring it out in the sink next to you. he chuckles at your comment but doesn’t say anything. “scott, did you make the coffee this morning?” you ask him. the three look over to you, almost as if they didn’t see you come in.

“yeah,” he answers.

“don’t do it again,” you tell him, filling the mug with water and leaving the kitchen.

as you watch a group of students take a test, you see logan walk back in his jacket he usually only wears when leaving campus.

“hey,” you call out. all the students look up at you. “keep taking your tests. i’m going to the hallway for a second,” you tell them and move into the hallway. “logan,” you call and he turns around, walking back toward you. “where are you going?”

“to pick up some more cigars,” he answers, gesturing over his shoulder.

“will you pick me up a pack of cigarettes?” you ask him, reaching into your pocket for some money.

his brow furrows. “you smoke?” he asks.

“sometimes, yeah,” you reply, handing him $20.

he shakes his head. “i’ll cover it,” he answers.

“thanks,” you reply, placing a hand on his forearm before returning to your classroom.

he looks down to his arm and blinks. that’s new.

“brad, i know you’re not talking during a test. are you begging for a failing grade?” he hears you say before he turns back toward the front door of the mansion.

logan returns a while later, after the school day is over and the students are training. he finds you in your classroom, grading papers.

“hey,” he greets. you look up at him.

“hey,” you return, eyes dancing all over his body.

“these are for you,” he says, holding out the page of cigarettes.

“right, thanks,” you say and reach for them, your fingers brushing his as you grab them.

“‘you need any help?” he asks, looking at the papers before you.

“do you know anything about math?” you ask him, pursing your lips.

“uh, no,” he answers, shaking his head. “don’t you have an answer key or something?”

“i have to check their work to make sure they didn’t just get the answer from the person beside them,” you reply, looking back down to the papers. “some of these kids are dumbasses.”

he chuckles. “no kid wants to do math,” he comments.

“how would you know? weren’t you born before there were schools?” you ask him without looking up. there’s a beat of silence before you eventually glance up at him. “was that insensitive?” you ask instead.

he just shrugs. “i’m not that old,” he says, sitting in the desk in front of yours.

“sure,” you respond and go back to grading.

the two of you sit in without a word as you grade, and he watches you in complete admiration. after a while, he stands up and walks toward the door.

“you’re leaving?” you question.

“‘didn’t think you wanted your room smelling like cigars,” he replies.

“i’ll join you,” you say, grabbing the pack he bought you and putting the tests in a drawer. he doesn’t object and you two walk outside, to a bench in the gardens, away from the students.

the two of you sit in silence as you inhale smoke and slowly release it from your lungs.

“i’ve never seen you smoke before,” he comments after a while.

“i only smoke when i give up drinking, i only drink when i give up smoking,” you answer, tossing the burnt cigarette onto the ground and stepping on it, then picking another one from the pack.

you pick up your lighter and flick it a few times but it won’t light. you put your head and lighter inside your shirt to block the wind, trying again and failing again.

“motherfucker,” you mutter as you try to cover the lighter.

“here,” he offers his lighter with the fire shining brightly above it. with the cigarette between your lips, lean toward the lighter, looking up into his eyes as you do. he meets your eyes and clears his throat, closing the flame into the top of the lighter and shifting his eyes to the cigar between his fingers. you let a small smile rest on your face afterward.

“so you’re not drinking anymore?” he asks you.

“figured i should go on a sobriety cleanse for a bit,” you reply, “‘t’s probably for the best.”

“probably,” he adds and silence takes over again.

he glances over at her for a second and he sees you bite at the skin of your bottom lip the way you always do when you’re thinking, contemplating. he’s tempted to ask what’s on your mind but before he can break the silence, you let out a hard sigh.

“i don’t apologize for things,” you begin and pause, biting at your lip again.

“okay…?”

“i don’t apologize for my actions or words because i stand by every decision i make,” you continue and pause again. he’s looking at you and you’re looking directly ahead of you. “i’m not good at apologizing,” you sigh again, “but i’m…sorry for some of the things i said the other night. there’s no excuse. i apologize. take that how you will.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he replies.

you huff. “so i just said all that for nothing? you could at least accept the damn apology,” she snaps at him then rubs the crease between her eyebrows out.

“you called me an old man. i don’t know if i want to accept your apology,” he teases with a crooked smile. you send him a look that turns into a hint of a smile before turning your head away.

“i need to get back to grading those tests. i’ll see you later, logan.” you stomp out another cigarette and stand up from the bench.

“see ya, sweetheart,” he says lowly but you still hear it.

as you look over tests, ororo enters your classroom. “ooh, what’s got you all smiley?” she asks as she strolls in.

the previous smile you didn’t even realize you were wearing falls when you look up at the mutant. “huh?”

“don’t try to deny it. i saw that smile,” she says teasingly. you just roll your eyes lightheartedly. ororo’s brow furrows as she sniffs the air. “are you smoking again?”

“yeah, i quit drinking,” you answer, “what’s up?”

“i was coming in here to ask you if you wanted to go out with the rest of us friday night. we’re planning on going that bar we always go to,” she says, “but if you’re not drinking, i don’t wanna make you go.”

“yeah, no. that’s okay,” you decline the offer.

“alright, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to join us. sober or not,” she adds before leaving out.

the week drags on painfully slow. it’s a week of tests and starting new units in all your classes and you really just want to bang your head against a wall and tell the kids class is canceled.

by the end of it, you actually do want to join your colleagues in going out to that bar in town that they love so much. you offer to be the designated driver, not trusting anyone but yourself to drive you anywhere.

“are you going with us to the bar?” you ask logan as he rummages around the cabinets for something to eat.

“no,” he answers, opening the fridge, “are you?”

“yeah, i’m driving,” you tell him. there’s a beat of silence before you add, “you should come.”

he turns toward you at your words with a crooked smile. “oh yeah?” he questions, “why? ‘you want me there?”

you scoff with no heat behind it. “i was just trying to be nice,” you say.

“you? nice?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

“what? you don’t think i’m nice?” you ask him defensively, crossing your arms.

“no,” he replies, not skipping a beat.

“i’m very nice,” you counter.

“no, you’re not,” he denies again, also crossing his arms.

in his white beater, crossing his arms makes his arms flex and you can’t help but let your eyes wander to the veins of his biceps.

“you have nice hair. there, nice,” you compliment, then add right after, “you’re not balding or anything, which is quite common for men your age.”

“you’re not good at this,” he tells you, looking at your plate to see what you're eating.

“do you want some?” you ask him. you hold your plate across the counter for him to pick off of. he grabs one of your chips and eats it.

“thanks,” he mutters.

“look at me being nice,” you comment and he chuckles deeply.

“shut up,” he returns playfully.

the five of you go to the bar that night, logan joining at your request. he sits at the bar, ordering drink after drink and scanning the bar every so often to make sure you’re alright.

you spend most of your time at ororo’s side. before long, you’re accompanied by a couple of men. you and ororo share side-eyes as they continue to tell stupid jokes. ororo excuses the both of you to go to the bathroom only to move next to logan at the bar.

“having fun?” he asks sarcastically, looking at you then glancing to ororo.

“they could’ve at least been funny, but they weren’t. there terribly unfunny,” you tell him, sitting next to him on a barstool and ororo laughs.

“yeah, that was awful,” she comments and sips her drink. “oh, i see jean and scott. i’ll be back later.” she leaves the two of you. you order a club soda and turn to logan, who is hunched over his drink.

“you have really bad posture,” you tell him as the bartender hands you your drink. he just shrugs and refills his glass with the bottle the bartender left in front of him. you dig your finger into his spine and he straightens up, looking at you wildly.

“why?” is all he asks.

“it’ll help you look more presentable. you’re not looking for anybody tonight?” you ask and glance around the bar for women.

“no, i’m not,” he answers and slumps back down. you dig your finger into his back again and he looks down at you. “stop,” he says seriously.

“oh, what’re you gonna do? stab me?” she asks him challengingly. he looks back down to his drink and shakes his head dismissively. “oh, come on. you’re good-looking, you’re good in bed, you’ve got this hot, animalistic thing going on. why not look for somebody?”

“‘cause i don’t want anybody,” he answers. “did you say i’m good in bed?”

“well, yeah,” you confirm with a one-shouldered shrug.

he stares at you for a beat. this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned it before. you don’t talk about the things you two have done. ever.

“i would know,” you add after he stays quiet.

“you would know what?” ororo asks as she rejoins you, along with scott and jean. they all stand directly behind the man, looking at you expectantly. logan’s waiting for you to make up a lie.

“that logan’s good in bed,” you answer, gesturing to the man next to you. his eyebrows raise and he looks directly in front of him, a smirk playing on his lips as he drinks down all of what’s left in his glass and refills it again. you surprise him more and more every day.

“he’s what?” ororo questions, shock written all over her.

you roll your eyes. “you don’t have to do the clueless bit. jean reads minds and i know she’s told you two,” you state, pointing between ororo and scott.

“what? i haven’t—i didn’t—,” jean stutters over her words, laughing through them.

“liar,” you clock it in a high-pitched tone, sipping your drink. “i’ve heard you talk about it before. i’m just surprised you haven’t mentioned it yet.”

the three of them exchange glances. “okay, yeah, we knew. we thought you would deny it anyway so we didn’t bring it up,” ororo admits.

logan stays silent, drinking like he’s been thirsting for days. why are you doing this? “so…you two are…,” scott trails off. you shrug as your answer. “hmm.”

“hey, sweetheart, you never came back,” the guy from early comes up behind you and wraps an around your shoulders. you tense up at the feeling.

you remove his hand from you. “don’t touch me, and don’t call me sweetheart,” you tell him. he laughs and looks at your colleagues.

“why not? looks like everybody’s got a matchup here but you. let me help you fix that,” he says and runs the knuckles of his finger across your collarbone. he points at scott and jean, then logan and ororo. “i can make you feel good,” he whispers in your ear.

“seriously, don’t touch me,” you tell him firmly, pushing his hand off your shoulder and shifting your seat away from him.

logan doesn’t watch the encounter but he’s squeezing the glass in his hand so hard it’s about to shatter. he feels the red-hot rage crawl up his neck as he does every time he encounters some asshole in a bar.

“don’t be like that, sweetheart,” the man continues and reaches for the strap over your shoulder. chills cover your arms and legs and a shiver runs down your spine. you grab his hand roughly and shove it away from you.

“touch me again and i’m gonna break your fucking nose,” you tell him.

“ooh, i got a feisty one,” he comments to the rest of your group, laughing. “i like that.”

scott takes a step forward. “you need to lay off, man,” he tells him, trying to keep this civil and contained.

the man only laughs harder. “what are you gonna do, glasses?” he asks him and slings his arm over your shoulders. “come on, baby, let’s get out of here. i got a real nice spot for you in my bed.”

“she already told you not to touch her, bub,” logan chimes in, still looking straight ahead and not sparing the boy a glance. there’s a tightness in his shoulders as he uses all his self control to stay in his seat.

“woah, tell your bodyguards to stand down,” he says to you but your only response is to rear back and deck him directly in the nose.

he stumbles back, holding his nose as blood drips into his hand. “you dumb bitch—,” he lunges toward you but logan whips around and grabs him by the front of his shirt, shoving him up against a wall.

“what’d you say?” the mutant asks him lowly, a growl deep in his throat.

“hey, take it outside!” the bartender yells at the man.

“why don’t we do that? you wanna take it outside?” logan asks the scared man in his grasp, shoving him harder into the wall.

“logan, let’s go,” ororo tells him as she walks with you toward the door. he doesn’t move. “logan!”

he drops his hold on the man and turns his back to him. he doesn’t even take a step before the dumbass says, “yeah, listen to your bitch.”

logan turns back around and absolutely socks him in the jaw. the man falls to the ground. logan walks after his friends, rolling his shoulders.

when logan gets out to the car, he sees you in the driver's seat, holding your hand closely to his body. he sits in the passenger seat and looks at you.

“are you okay?” he asks you carefully.

“did you kill him?” you ask him flatly without meeting his gaze, and he shakes his head. “you should’ve,” you say coldly and start the engine, driving out of the parking lot and back to the mansion as quickly as possible.

when you arrive, logan accompanies you to the lab for jean to look at your hand. he wasn’t going to say anything but watching you cradle your hand makes him change his mind. “are you alright?” he asks you.

“fine,” you reply sharply, clenching your jaw tightly. he watches you bite at your lip.

“speak your mind,” he tells you, just outside the hidden elevator. you just shake your head at him. “if you don’t, you’ll take it out on jean.”

“why can’t i just do that?” you ask lowly.

“‘cause she doesn’t deserve it,” he reasons.

you take a deep, frustrated breath. “what happened tonight was stupid,” you say, “dumb fucking men thinking they can get whatever they want whenever they want. now my hand might be broken because i couldn’t—,” you cut yourself off and take another deep breath to steady yourself. “i’m done talking about this,” you say and open the door to the hidden elevator.

he blocks your path. “no, you’re not,” he says and waits for you to continue. that’s when the dam really breaks and you last out at him.

“it’s stupid. all of this is fucking stupid. i could’ve handled myself back there. i didn’t need you to step up and be my big, strong savior,” you tell him angrily, voice rising.

“i know,” he returns.

you’re shouting now, “then why couldn’t you just let me do it? i could’ve stopped him. i’m stronger now. i know how to fight now. i don’t need anybody to save me. i can save myself. i don’t need you. i don’t need any of you.” your voice cracks as the anger starts to shift into the feelings you hate to feel. “i’m not gonna let anyone take advantage of me ever again. and i’ll break every bone in my body before i let some drunk narcissistic man ever put his hands on me again,” you say your peace and breathe heavily and unsteadily.

there’s a long pause, the weight of your words hanging between you. logan doesn’t interrupt, giving you the floor to get it all out.

“i know,” he repeats himself deeply, “but you shouldn't have to.”

you feel that familiar ache in the back of your throat as tears threaten to spill out. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, pushing all the emotions back down. “my hand really hurts,” you tell him quietly, not trusting your voice. he puts his hand gently on your back and leads you into the elevator then into the lab.

by the time you’re in front of jean, you’ve pulled yourself together and let her examine your hand. you did break your hand. she wraps it up for you and sends you to your room with some pain meds.

logan doesn’t leave your side until you’re at your bedroom door. “i don’t want you to come inside,” you tell him quietly. he stays silent. “it’s just that you’ve never seen my room before and this is mostly where i use my abilities and it’s messy right now and—.”

“‘t’s fine,” he interrupts your rambling. “i don’t have to come inside.”

“right,” you mumble, hand gripping the doorknob. “good night.”

“‘night.” he doesn’t make his way to his room until you slip into yours, locking the door behind you.

the next mid-morning, logan walks into the kitchen to see jean scolding you like a child. he’s surprised you’re just sitting there and taking it without a word.

“i’m serious,” jean says, finishing her tongue lashing.

“i know,” you mumble before jean offers logan a soft ‘good morning’ as she leaves.

“what was that about?” he asks you, moving over to the table where you sit with paper spread in front of you.

“i need to grade these papers but my hand is broken and dr grey told me it would only cause more damage,” you explain, sighing heavily and holding the pen in your healthy hand.

“let me help,” he says, snatching the pen from your fingers and the paper from in front of you. the numbers on the sheet are all greek to him. he doesn’t know what the hell he’s looking at.

“you can’t,” you tell him, pulling the paper from his hands. “you don’t know how to do it.”

“then tell me,” he offers, moving his chair next to yours. “tell me what’s wrong and i’ll write it down.”

you shake your head a few times before giving in. “fine,” you cave and look over the student’s work. you place the page in front of the man and point a certain part of a problem. “okay, so he should’ve foil’d here but he didn’t so the rest of the work is wrong. put a line through it and write ‘foil’,” you instruct him and he follows your orders.

“like that?” he asks, showing you. you nod in approval.

“your handwriting actually isn’t that bad. i was expecting a lot worse,” you comment, leaning into him as you look over the next problem. “that one’s right, so put a check,” you tell him and he follows.

the process continues on. every time there’s a gap of silence as you examine the math that he would never even try to understand, he watches you in complete admiration. there are practically hearts in his eyes while the gears turn in your brain.

as the next few days progress, you and logan spend more time together than you ever have. whether he’s in your classroom during your free period or you watch whatever movie’s on tv together on the couch, if someone’s looking for logan, you’re right beside him and vice versa.

of course, the others have taken notice of it. it’s new and after you confirmed you had been sleeping together, they draw their own conclusions about the two of you.

“‘y’know what i would like to see?” you prompt logan as you watch a show with a lumberjack in it.

“what’s that, darlin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“you chop wood,” you tell him, looking up at him from your spot under his arm.

“chop wood?” he questions.

“yeah, like, axe, wood, outside, shirtless, sweaty, and muscly, chopping wood,” you tell him, “lumberjack style.”

“lumberj—.”

“with the cigar,” you add excitedly, cutting him off. “maybe add in a little dehydration too.”

“i think you’re drooling a little bit,” he tells you, pointing at your mouth as a lazy smile rests on his face.

“probably, that’s hot,” you tell him, looking back at the screen.

as the credits roll, logan looks down to see you sound asleep with your head resting on his chest. he carefully picks you up in his arms and carries you to your room.

he opens the door and pauses his movements, eyes dancing across your room. there are no personal touches on the walls or shelves. it looks exactly like his did when he first got to the mansion. well, except for one obvious difference.

your room looks completely dilapidated, like an abandoned home that the sun and time have destroyed. the dark color of the wooden floors and furniture has faded, every surface dry and brittle. in some parts, mostly near the window, the wood is completely bleached of its color.

he lays you in your bed and covers you up, taking in the room once more before he leaves.

“why don’t you have another name like everyone else?” he asks as you sit next to him on the bench where you now regularly take your smoke breaks on.

“like a last name? i do have one,” you answer, flicking the butt of your cigarette onto the pavement.

“scott has cyclops, marie’s got rogue,” he elaborates, glancing over at you. you’re sitting right beside him, his arm thrown over the back of the bench in a way that your head rests on it.

“i don’t know. i guess i never understood why i have to change my name just because i’m a mutant. i am who i am, human or mutant,” you answer, messing with a loose thread on your pants. “plus, seeing the way you made fun of the others when you first got here for their names—i’d never even try to think of one now,” you tell him, making him chuckle. you smile proudly at making him laugh. “you looked so cute when you first got here.”

“are you saying i’m not cute anymore?” he asks in mock offense, looking at you sideways.

“i mean, when i first saw you, you had that big jacket on and you were so clueless. a little less muscle too,” you recount, poking his toned stomach to which he curls to the side. your jaw drops. “are you ticklish?” you ask him, a smile growing on your face.

“no,” he replies sharply and gruffly, straightening his posture.

“oh, my fuck. you so are ticklish,” you accuse and dig your fingers into his ribs, attempting to tickle him.

a deep laugh leaves him, and he grabs your hand in his, his facial expression dropping quickly. “stop,” he tells you in warning. you just laugh in his face, reaching toward him with your other hand, cigarette still between your fingers. he grabs your other hand before you touch him, cigar between his fingers. “no,” he denies you.

you look toward the mansion and see the sun reflecting off a window. you bend the light so it’s shining directly in his eyes, almost burning them. he shuts his eyes tightly and brings one of his hands up to his face. as quickly as you can, you reach back into his side.

he quickly stands up and looks down at you. “enough,” he says and points a finger in your face.

you stand up also, but you’re shorter than him so he’s still looking down at you. you decide to stand on the bench, now a little taller than he is. you don’t say anything, just look down on him with a straight face.

logan can’t help the smile that breaks his scowl. “you’re an idiot,” he tells you, raising his eyebrows at you.

you mimic his gesture then flick the cigarette butt onto the ground. “you are cute, wolvie,” you say and ruffle his hair. “i get the whole towering over people know. this is a power trip for sure,” you comment.

“oh, really?” he questions and puts the cigar between his lips. he grabs you around your waist and throws you over his shoulder like you’re as light as a feather.

you let out a surprised squeal as he walks away from your bench with you in his hold. “put me down. bad boy, bad dog,” you chastise him hitting his lower back. he doesn’t listen so you just hang over his shoulder as he drags you into the mansion.

you grab his ass abruptly and he stops in his tracks. he places you on the floor and tilts his head as he looks into your eyes, taking the cigar from his mouth. “‘bad dog’?”

“yeah, wolverine,” you say, gesturing to him.

“a wolverine’s not a dog,” he tells you, smiling down at you.

your brow furrows. “yeah, it’s like a small wolf, right?” you wonder and feel like an idiot when he laughs at you.

“no,” he answers, shaking his head.

“liar,” you accuse.

he tells you, “go to the zoo. there’s some there.”

you look up at him in disbelief. “you’re fucking with me,” she states and he shakes his head in complete amusement. “if you’re lying to me, i’ll—.”

“what? try to blind me again?” he asks, cutting you off.

“maybe i will,” you challenge, crossing your arms.

he pauses for a moment, considering. “maybe i want you to,” he says and his tone drops, like, two octaves when he says it.

you’re suddenly aware of how close the two of you are, how his hands gripped your waist just a moment before, how effortlessly he carried you. the playful atmosphere shifts and you feel heat creep up your neck and across your cheeks. you don’t blush, especially not around him.

“logan,” is all you say softly. he notices the change in tone. he notices everything about you, every detail, every flaw, every perfection.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the air between you is charged. your eyes travel all over his face. he really is such an attractive guy. and when you peel back the tough guy layer, he’s a sweetheart.

“thanks for the ride,” you say lightly, trying to break the tension.

he nods, gaze still locked on you. “anytime,” he remarks, his voice rougher than it was a moment before.

you both stand there for a few more seconds, not really sure where to go from here. his eyes shift from yours to your lip as you chew on it. his jaw tightens and he looks away from you, taking a step back to give you some space.

your heart pounds against your chest unfamiliarly. everything about this feels so new to you.

“see you around, pup,” you say, your voice back to its teasing tone.

“yeah,” he adds, watching as you turn away and walk back toward the mansion.

more days pass and you spend more time with logan. he notices that you make fun of him more, teasing him for small stuff.

it’s only when he’s in the laundry room that ororo catches him alone. “hey, logan,” she greets. he mumbles something of the same. “so…you look pretty cozy with a certain mutant.”

“huh?”

“you know what i’m talking about,” she says, leaning against a washing machine.

“it’s nothing,” he tells her, starting the machine he threw his clothes into haphazardly.

“‘doesn’t look like nothing,” she returns.

“leave it alone,” he grumbles, turning to leave the room.

ororo steps in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. “please, don’t hurt her, logan,” she requests.

“she doesn’t want me the way you think,” he tells her.

“you can’t seriously believe that,” she says, looking back and forth between his eyes.

at that very moment, you turn the corner and your eyes widen. you ignore the sting in your chest as you let out a loud “woah.” ororo quickly turns around and takes a step away from logan. “i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you tell them with your hands up in surrender, but that was exactly your intention when you spoke up.

“you weren’t interrupting anything,” logan tells you, watching you move past him to grab a laundry basket.

“i’m not judging,” you reply, walking back to the door. you turn back last second and look at ororo. “hey, if he asks you to wear a red wig, say no,” you tell her with a wink before leaving.

“i never—,” logan cuts himself off, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. “i never did that,” he says to her.

“God, i hope not. what the hell,” she remarks, shoving his arm. “she was jealous. you need to go tell her nothing happened.” he sighs deeply and takes a step forward. “‘you really still think she doesn’t want you?”

he doesn’t reply and follows after you. you’re walking as quickly as you can up the stairs when he catches up to you. “hey,” he calls after you.

“don’t worry, buddy. secret’s safe with me,” you tell him, picking up your pace as you reach the top of the stairs but he keeps in step with you.

“there’s not a secret. we were just talking,” he says.

you place a hand on your bedroom doorknob. “really, you don’t have to defend yourself to me,” you say and open your door, slipping inside. before you can shut it, logan stops the door with his hand. you look at him through the crack in the door, pushing your lips into a thin line. “uhm…”

“there’s nothing going on between me and storm,” he tells you.

“i’m not gonna tell anybody,” you return, frustration rising in your tone. you push against the door but your strength is in no way comparable to his.

“i’m serious,” he tries again, almost pleading. “i don’t want her, i want—.”

“jean? look at that, finishing each other’s sentences again,” you cut him off with a false laugh.

“come on, darlin‘,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

you groan. “i just thought—,” you stop yourself, sighing. “it doesn’t matter what i thought.”

“it does matter,” he tells you, pushing the door a little wider. you move into the space between the doorway and the door, trying to block his view into the room. “tell me,” he encourages, getting closer to you.

“i thought you weren’t a whore,” you retort, giving him a hardened look.

“that’s not what you were gonna say,” he states lowly, looking deeply into your eyes. “what was it?” you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting into the skin. he reaches his hand to your jaw, his thumb pulling the lip from between your teeth. “don’t do that. you know it drives me crazy.”

“i thought maybe you wanted me for more than sex,” you admit, feeling embarrassed as the words slip out. you clench your jaw, preparing for the rejection. a smirk slide onto his face and you drop your head. “okay, bye.”

you move back and push against the door again, but this time he pushes the door all the way open. your eyes widen as he takes a long stride toward you and pulls you back to him by the back of your neck. he presses his lips against yours feverishly to which you obviously reciprocate.

he pulls away and rests his forehead against yourself, breathing heavily. “i want you in every way possible, sweetheart,” he says.

you swallow thickly, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. “you don’t want me,” you tell him. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back into him, your chest pushing against his.

“i do,” he counters.

“you don’t,” you respond.

there’s a beat of silence. “i do,” he says again. you just look up into his eyes. “i want you. i’m not the best person for you, i know that. i’m older and unhappy and i probably can’t be there for you emotionally,” he lists then shakes his head at you, looking at you like you make the world go round. “but i want you, i want every part of you—the good, the bad, the hot and sexy, and the rude and snappy. everything.”

you’re quiet. you don’t know what to say, what is there to even say? in your head, he’s always wanted jean and you were just a place filler. you’ve been under the impression that you caught feelings and he didn’t reciprocate them at all. maybe you’re wrong just this once.

“i want you too,” you tell him in a whisper. he watches your brow furrow as you look away from his eyes. his face falls. “but—.”

“no ‘but.’ don’t say ‘but’,” he begs, loosening his grip on your waist.

“logan, i can live with you not being there for me emotionally, but i don’t know if you can live with me not being for you sexually,” you tell him. dread takes over your body. this beautiful, morally grey, perfect-for-you man is in the palm of your hand and you’re letting him slip through your fingers.

her visible confusion deepens. “you’ve been perfect for the past few months,” he tells you, misinterpreting your words as insecurity.

you shake your head. “i meant it when i said i can’t fuck you sober,” you tell him slowly, avoiding his gaze completely. you feel his hands move from his loosened grip to a hover over your hips. you can’t read his mind like you usually can. logan wears his thoughts on his face, perfectly readable when he’s mad or happy or just his normal grumpy. but now, it’s like trying to read a book in a language you didn’t know existed. “i’m sorry,” you add when his silence becomes too much.

“i don’t care,” he tells you as soon as you finish the last syllable.

“you know i don’t apologize for shit and you don’t care that i’m sorry?” you ask him. you go to push him off again but he pulls you back in, this time wrapping his around your neck, smothering your face in his burly chest.

“i don’t care about sex,” he tells you as he rests his head atop yours. you return the embrace and hold him around his ribs. “i don’t care if you never touch me again. i love you.” your eyes widen and he feels your body tense up. he chuckles, pulling away and smiling at you. “too soon?”

“a little,” you tell him, nodding. you then smile back at him.

———

a/n: i haven’t written in a long time . pls don’t rip me up if u hate this🙏

[nonbinoclard]

>>> TUNES TO LOSE YOUR MIND TO <<<

KEEP IN MIND: This is a living playlist! Songs may be added and removed at times to further curate the vibe I'm going for. I'll try to keep this post updated, but you can just check out the link for an up-to-date track list.

(EDIT: Song discussions are not finished! I have a lot more to say. I'll reblog when I've updated.)

This is set in a sort of nebulous time between Harry's life right before Martinaise and the night before he lost his memory. I wanted this playlist to feel erratic-- full of manic energy one second, then slow and bleak the next, dreamy, unreal, then right back to ridiculous.

(In no particular order. Shuffle for full emotional whiplash effect.)

I Don't Like My Mind - Mitski

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room [...] And then I get sick and throw up and there's another memory that gets stuck / Inside the walls of my skull waiting for its turn to talk / And it may be a few years, but you can bet it's there, waiting still

The days before cleaning out the rooms... also, eating an entire cake and throwing it all up again feels very harry-esque... Overindulgence

A whole cake, so please don't take / Take this job from me

End Of The World - Hether

I mean, I could just post the entire set of lyrics as evidence, tbh. Struggling to find meaning and purpose in his life in the wake of heartbreak (5 year old heartbreak, but who's counting anyway)

I wake up in the morning and I wonder / Why everything's the same as it was I can't understand / No I can't understand / How life goes on the way it does

Cane Shuga - Glass Animals

Baby, don't go / I'll stop breathing coke / No more bloody nose / No more John Does Burn through my love / Just like your drugs / I've had quite enough / Or lack thereof

This is about the last moments of Harry and Dora's relationship to me. The chorus (a kind of circular, endless, self-aggrandizing internal monologue likely fueled by stimulants, implied in the song) continuing after the second verse kind of reflects the solution for Lonesome Long Way Home.

"11 Voyager Road. You no longer live there. Those times are gone, and so are those people. Why did you come here? Why are you still here? And where’s the dealer? You have to get back to work. That’s all you have now."

Hot Venom - Miniature Tigers

Hot venom is mixing with my blood / I can feel it on my fingers and taste it on her tongue / It feels so good to fall in love with you

I've heard a lot of people say this song is about heroin addiction, which is thematically appropriate for this playlist, but also. Harry's unhealthy obsession with Dora/Dolores Dei. Adoration (and hatred) so strong it's killing him.

Her venom makes me strong / Stronger than I am on my own / Before too long, I'll wake up to it gone / Wondering how I ever was happy [...] You can't go back now; that's not how this works / And as long as she's gone, I can never be happy

Who Is She ? - I Monster

This is just straight up about Harry's recurring dream to me. Just. Gestures at the lyrics.

Oh, who is she? / A misty memory / A haunting face / Is she a lost embrace? Am I in love with just a theme? / Or is Ayesha just a dream?

I feel like it falls in line really well with the idea that Harry's mind has been affected by the Pale-- a lack of memory, or maybe mixed memories, in a misty haze beyond the boundaries of reality. (and maybe Dolores Dei has started haunting him via Pale? Like some theories I've read.)

Somewhere across the sea of time / A love immortal such as mine Will come to me / Eternally

I Don't Miss You at All - FINNEAS

Dummy - Portugal. The Man

F the World - The Northern Boys

You Stupid Bitch - Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV Show)

These shards are a metaphor for my soul Won't stop the self-pity 'cause I'm on a roll

This song perfectly captures the inherent melodrama of a mental downward spiral imo. Catastrophic and all-encompassing. This is what I think it sounds like in there (Harry's head).

You ruined everything / You stupid bitch / You ruined everything / You stupid, stupid bitch / You're just a lying little bitch who ruins things / And wants the world to burn / Bitch / You're a stupid bitch / And lose some weight

Oleander - Mother Mother

Intermission - Scissor Sisters

Skit #2 - Kanye West

Self explanatory. He's got no money. He's got no clothes. He has no car and he has no hoes.

We broke, broke broke phi broke We ain't got it Broke, broke, broke phi broke We ain't got it Don't spend no money, ain't got no clothes Ain't got no cars, ain't got no hoes

Nobody - Mitski

My God, I'm so lonely, so I open the window To hear sounds of people, to hear sounds of people

This one is more about the feeling of the song itself rather than the lyrics specifically; I love the upbeat tempo that continues through the song (trying to remain steady, continue working), how the beat is simple at first then builds into a kaleidoscope of sound by the end of the track (overwhelmed by the world), then ending in a distorted loop (trapped in a cycle). This song has always felt really authentic to my own experience with mental spirals. The themes of loneliness tie it all into a nice bow.

I'm A Broken Heart - the bird and the bee

Not Allowed - TV Girl

Party Time - The Northern Boys

Comfortably Numb - Scissor Sisters

(Do The) Act Like You Never Met Me - TV Girl

Novocaine For The Soul - Eels

Basket Case - Green Day

Do you have the time / to listen to me whine About nothing and everything all at once? I am one of those melodramatic fools / Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it

I just think this one fits him well during Martinaise... just shaken up and unloading trauma onto unsuspecting strangers like a can of soda (bad analogy lol), depending on the dialogue you choose.

I went to a shrink to analyze my dreams She says it's lack of sex that's bringing me down I went to a whore, she said my life's a bore So quit my whining 'cause it's bringing her down

Sometimes, I give myself the creeps / Sometimes, my mind plays tricks on me It all keeps adding up / I think I'm cracking up Am I just paranoid, or am I stoned?

Also it's just a little pathetic, which just... it fits. Sorry Harry.

Labyrinth - Miracle Musical

[naturesapphic]

Hey!!

Can I request Billie teasing her best friend who has a crush on her and doing the knee thing.. it could lead to smut ,if your comfortable writing it

Also, I love your imagines ❤️

Tease

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, knee/thigh riding, billie being an absolute tease, cussing

Billie was in the drivers seat while you were in the passengers side. You offered to drive but she jokingly said that you were her passenger princess and that they don’t get to drive. When she said that your entire face started to heat up and you didn’t say anything else, I mean, how could you when you secretly have a huge crush on your best friend and she said those things to you?

“Can I play some of my music?” You ask her and Billie smiled big. “Of course you can. I always love when you play your playlist. Our music taste are so similar.” She replied as she kept her eyes on the road and moved her sunglasses up on her face more. You grabbed your phone and set it up on billies car Bluetooth and started your playlist. Washing machine heart started by mitski started playing and you both started to jam out.

She used both of her knees at the bottom of the steering wheel and starting moving along with the beat. You looked over and saw how her knees were moving and you couldn’t stop staring at her. “You okay over there mamas? You seem awfully quiet.” Billie asked as she looked back and forth at you and on the road. “Y-yeah I’m good. Just thinking.” You said hoping she wouldn’t keep pushing because you don’t think you could keep your secret in any longer.

Billie caught you staring at her and how she was driving and that made her smirk. Shes been liking you for a while but since you two are best friends she didn’t want to ruin anything with you. She decided to test something so she continued to dance to the music and feel all over herself. Billie looked over to see you still stare intensely at her movements and she bit her lip. “It’s rude to start mamas..” Billie teased and your face got heated up quickly again and you looked away from her, trying to hide your smile.

Billie reached her cold ring covered hand over to your thighs which was easy access since you decided to wear a skirt. “What’s got you all red in the face hm?” She asked in a playful tone and you had a feeling she caught you staring at her and now she’s teasing the fuck out of you because of it. “You.” You said bluntly and you cursed yourself under your breath. Billie was shocked at your words but then she started chuckling. “Don’t laugh at me! It’s your fault for being so hot and teasing me…” you pouted as you crossed your arms.

“Awwww poor baby. I’m sorry but not really. I love seeing you all red in the face and getting flustered because of me.” She said lowly, looking back and forth between you and the road. You kept pouting and Billie kept teasing you, with words and with actions. She would keep driving with her knee and whenever you caught her she would slowly lick her lips and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. You squeezed your thighs together and whimpered Lowly but Billie heard you and she felt her boxers get wet.

She was almost to her house when she decided to tease you further by driving with one hand and her other on her baggy pants. She put her hand over her crouch and started “fixing it” and bunching it up slowly. She looked over and caught you staring again as she was pulling into her driveway. She pressed a button in her car and the garage door opened. She pulled in and parked the car and pushed the button again but this time to close it. You both sat there in silence, the two of you being horny. You looked over and saw that Billie was already looking at you with dark eyes.

You couldn’t wait any longer and pounced on her. You took off your seatbelt and went over the space that separated y’all and went on her lap. You grabbed the collar of her button up shirt and brought her close to your face. “You have been teasing me all day and it’s annoying! If you mean what you say then do it.” You threatened her and she gave you a smirk as she held onto your hips. She licks her lips and pushed you forward so y’all’s chest are pressed against each other. “Ride my knee princess.” She said and tapped your ass lightly as you hovered your clothed pussy over her knee.

“Nuh uh. Take em off baby. I wanna see how wet your pussy is.” She rasped out as you lifted your hips up and took off your now soaked underwear. She grabbed them from you and put it in her pants pocket, giving you a fake innocent smile. You hovered your now bare pussy over her knee and started grinding on it, making you let out a strangled moan. You put your hands on her shoulder as her hands was on your hips guiding you. “F-fuck billie!” You moaned out as you started to grind faster, a orgasm already building up inside of you.

“Such a good girl. That’s right keep using my knee princess. You look so pretty right now.” She said as she took her left hand and gripped your jaw, making you look at you. “I wanna see your face when you cum all over my leg babygirl.” Billie commanded as she looked deep into your eyes. You nodded against her hand and moved your hips faster, your clit hitting her jean pants just right that started to make your legs shake. “B-billie! M’gonna cum!” You yelled out as you looked into her blue eyes and she bit her lip as she helped you move faster against her. “Cum all over me princess. Wanna see you cum.” She responded.

You saw white and you felt your eyes close as your orgasm hit you hard. You slowed down, billie helping you chase your high then you collapsed on top of her, your head laying on her plump chest. “Fuck billie…” you breathed out and she let out a happy giggle that made you smile. “I hope you know that I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I’ve loved you for a while but was too scared to say anything, fearing I would cost our friendship and I didn’t want that.” Billie explained and you looked up at you. “I feel the exact same way!” You happily said as you wrapped your arms around her and hug her tight. She smiled giddily and hugged you back tighter.

“If that confession didn’t already say it but will you be my girlfriend?” She asked and your smile turned into a huge grin. “Are you crazy?! Of course I will!” You exclaimed as you started peppering kisses all over her face which made her laugh loudly. “I love you Billie.” You said seriously as you rest your forehead against hers, your breath hitting her plump lips. “I love you most y/n. So fucking much.” She whispered against your lips and gave you a slow peck before pulling away to look at you. “Now…let’s go inside and let me show you how much of a tease I can be.” You said as a smirk appeared on your face. You opened the car door and grabbing her hand, pulling her into her house, with a stupid grin plastered on her face.

A/n: holy guac. 1271 words! I hope this made sense and I did okay lmao took me a couple of days to finish this since I’ve been busy but I hope you enjoy this anon and thank you for the request and for your kind words. I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too. More Billie smuts coming your way to keep a lookout ;) remember to stay hydrated and to rest. I love y’all!

[catch1ngmoths]

Hi my pookie 😏 Can I request a Joost Klein x fem!reader where it's unrequited love, reader likes Joost, and she's about to give up because he doesn't feel the same but something happens to the reader which causes Joost to panic and confess he's always loved her?

⛆ ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU ⛆

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “So come inside and be with me, alone with me, alone with me, alone. If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses, then I wouldn't have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart.” -Mitski𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Summary: your in love with Joost and do everything to try and show your love for him but he doesn’t seem to reciprocate your feelings and even gets involved with another girl. Talking about her 24/7 but suddenly you finally boil over and snap at him. Not knowing your standing in the middle of the street….

Note: THIS ONE IS DRAMATIC AS HELL LOL, anyways finally have the energy to finish a fic! I might post another one soon also, hope yall didn’t miss me too much ;)

Warnings: just straight up y/n and Joost hurting and y/n kinda sorta gets hit by a car (ಡ᎔ಡ)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pain. That’s all this brought you was pain. Being joost’s best friend and loyal companion was the best and worst thing you’ve experienced. Joost was your favorite person, and you were his. But what he didn’t know was how you felt, how you stared at him longingly every chance you could.

How desperately you wanted to snuggle close to him and explain all your feelings to him. But you couldn’t, not when all he talked about was her. Louise. A girl he met and was how infatuated with, or that’s how it seemed in your eyes. He talked about their relationship and how it kept building day by day.

Today was just another day you felt the familiar tug at your heart, “-and then she said she loved my glasses, it was so kind!” Joost says, laying back as his head rests in your lap, eyes looking straight up at the starry sky you both sat under. Your body tenses and you let out a soft sigh but you quickly recover and look down at him with a smile.

“I’m glad she likes your dorky glasses, might be the only one” you say with a teasing snicker, making Joost look up at you with a faux offended stare and a pout. It wasn’t true, you loved his glasses, you always have. But I guess he never payed any mind to your compliments towards the thick black glasses that sat on his face, but he did for her. Funny isn’t it? Your snapped out of your thoughts as Joost speaks, “ha ha, very funny.” He says as he reaches up to pinch your cheek with a small chuckle.

You smile apawn the contact and lean into his touch that’s quickly stolen away as he lowers his hand back down. The warmth leaving your cheek and making your heart clinch and you look up at the stars as well. You could never tell him, you couldn’t ruin this for him.

Little did you know joost wanted nothing more then to sit up and kiss you in that moment, your teasing words and soft smile made his head spin. He was so in love with you but he couldn’t tell you. Not when you were so out of his league, I mean you’re you and he’s…well he’s him. You were way too good for him. He could never tell you, he couldn’t take you when there’s someone out there that was way better looking than him.

So Joost was willing to try and move on, when he saw Louise and noticed how into him she was he took his chance. He wanted you to do the same- well not wanted. He needed you to find someone like he was, someone that was better than him so he could at least try and get over you. He hoped him always bringing Louise up would push you in that direction, he didn’t know it would hurt you the worst you’ve been hurt in your life.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

During present time, were at your breaking point, you couldn’t listen to it anymore. So you snapped, you snapped at Joost when he brought up Louise once more. “We held hands today, she said my hands were very soft and warm?! Can you believe that- my hands are neither sof-“ he’s cut off by an aggravated sigh and he looks up at you immediately.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he tries to scan your face to get information on what exactly you’re feeling. “Are you done?” You spat aggressively, you didn’t mean to be rude. Truly you didn’t! But you were just so filled with jealousy and envy that you snapped. Joost looks taken aback and stayed silent for a bit before speaking again, “am I done…?” He says in a tone that very stern.

“Yeah, are you done talking about her all the time?!” You replied as you rubbed your temples and stood up from where you were sitting right next to him on his couch. “Uhh…what the hell is your deal?” He says with furrowed eyebrows, starting to become frustrated at your sudden hostility.

“My deal is that you’re always talking about her! I get it, you’re in love with her but I don’t wanna hear it anymore! Okay??” You say as Joost also stands from his spot on the couch, “in love-?! Wha-“ he’s cut off by you again, “always talking about how great she is while I just sit here feeling like a third wheel!” You continue as he scoffs, “okay well I thought you were happy for me!?” He says, both of your voices raising.

“I am!! I’m just tried of hearing about how awesome and smart and beautiful she is!” You reply as you roll your eyes. “Jesus why are you acting like this?!” He says, making you scoff and cross your arms. “Uh what the fuck is that supposed to mean!!? I’m just sick of hearing about it!” You narrow your eyes at him.

You rub them bridge of your nose before you start walking towards his front door, leaving. “I’m just gonna go.” You say coldly making Joost shake his head. “What?! You can’t just leave like this?!” He says as he follows after you hastily. You don’t turn and continue walking, were you being a little dramatic? Sure. But the feelings you’ve bottled up for so long were finally erupting and you weren’t thinking about that.

“Watch me.” You snarl as you walk down the street, you didn’t know where you were going…hell you were staying with Joost for the time being, you just needed space. Joost didn’t understand that, knowing you had nowhere else to go. He didn’t want anything to happen to you so he follow behind you but you picked up the pace.

“Why the hell are you so adamant about this?! What the fuck is your problem” he says as you groan in annoyance and swiftly turn to him, standing in the middle of the empty road. He finally sees your eyes that were filled with tears, some rolling down your cheeks. It broke his heart as his eyes widen.

You laugh bitterly and sarcastically, “what is my problem?!” You raise your voice, “my problem is that you love this girl and you don’t even realize how I feel about you!! How much I love you, but you’re too busy with her to even realize! I’ve tried everything, everything joost! But your too busy with her to ever notice me so I’m don’t trying to get you to notice me!! ”

You weren’t thinking, you were just rambling as you spoke, Joost froze, not that you realized. Your vision was blurry from the tears in your eyes. Something else you failed to realize was the car coming right in your direction. (I know this is so dramatic (ᵕ—ᴗ—) I couldn’t think of anything else to happen to reader! Plus who doesn’t like a little dramatics!)

You both noticed too late, once you noticed the approaching lights you swiftly turned and saw the car speeding towards you. You have no time to react before your eyes widen, you hear your name being screamed and then everything goes black.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your eyes crack open as you feel blinded by a bright light, you groan and try to sit up but you feel a pair of soft hands wrapping around you. Your breath hitches and eyes widen as you hear soft sobs coming from the person holding you.

Your senses finally come back to you as you see the bright blonde hair that you could recognize anywhere. Your wrap your arms around him as well, “j-Joost..? What happened?” You say weakly, your whole body hurt. But Joost finally stops hugging you, holding your cheeks in his hands as tears roll down his face.

“Your dumbass got hit by a car” he says with a shakey laugh, “god I’m so glad your okay” he finishes as he presses soft kisses to your head, your memory coming back as you groan and burry your face in his chest. A soft chuckle coming from the man in response. He sighs and lifts your chin up, looking deep in your eyes

“I’m not…I’m not talking to Louise anymore.” He says and your heart drops, you did this, you made him stop seeing the “love of his life” Joost immediately notices your widened eyes and shakes his head, “because…I figured out who I’m truly meant to be with.” He says with a soft smile as he presses his forehead to yours

“W-who..?” You say as your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. “How about I show you huh?” He says with a smirk before lowering his head and connecting his lips to yours, you both part with shallow breaths, ““I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know you thought of me like that, Louise was just a distraction because-“ he pauses and looks away

“Because I was trying to distract myself from how much I love you. God I’m so sorry this is all my fa-“ he’s cut off by your soft voice, “shut up and kiss me again” he smiles before pressing his lips gently back to yours and suddenly, even being in the hospital, everything doesn’t seem so bad..

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

This fic actually sucks ass, I’m sorry for the bad fic lol I promise I’ll try to lock in 🙏🏻🥲

[leaderwonim]

I LOVE YOU LIKE . . .

pairing. enhypen ot7 x fem!reader

genre. fluff, angst in some of them if you squint

synopsis: in which enha members love you like different songs

LEE HEESEUNG

“i love you like seasons by wave to earth”

he was the bad boy who was afraid to love you because he was so scared he would ruin your life. he tried convincing you that it wouldn’t work, that you deserved way better than he could ever be.

“that’s not true hee,” you say as you cupped his face into your hands. “i love you and that’s all that matters.”

although lee heeseung swore to himself he would never fall in love, the idea is thrown out the window as soon as you muttered those 3 words that seemed to change his whole lookout on life.

“i love you.” he says as he places a kiss on your forehead, engulfing you into a hug. “thank you for loving me back in this universe.”

PARK JONGSEONG

“i love you like my love mine all mine by mitski”

jay was a certified lover boy by heart. people, more specifically, guys—would often tell jay it was too early to settle down and he should have as much fun as he could before that moment came.

he disagreed completely. jay wanted someone to love, someone who he’d propose to after dating for some time. he didn’t just want someone to warm his bed for the night, or call when he’s drunk and alone. he wanted someone who would stay up late to talk about spontaneous things like how many kids they wanted or what career they wanted to go into.

and he found himself lucky when he met you, the cute girl in his chemistry class on his first day at college. you swooned him over with just one smile, and he knew he was helpless right there and then.

“here—i can get that.” he says, reaching for your heavy backpack.

“oh it’s okay jay!” you quickly protest, but it’s to no avail because jay’s already got it swung around his shoulder, your textbooks in his hand.

“i can’t have my future children knowing i made their mother carry heavy items, can i?” he jokes, which makes you blush as you look down at your feet.

“enough jay! you’re gonna make me turn a tomato.”

it has only been one week since he’s asked you to be his girlfriend with some cliche chemistry pickup line, but it was the best decision of his life. after all, you were all his, and he was all yours.

SIM JAEYUN

“i love you like would that i by hozier”

sim jaeyun likes to think of your relationship as a breath of fresh air on the first day of summer vacation. he feels fulfilled when he’s with you, and he couldn’t ask the universe for a better feeling.

when you spoke about the things you loved, he listened in attentively, his pretty eyelashes batting as his ears concentrated themselves to only tune into your voice.

“hey! are you listening?” sunoo whines as he taps jake’s shoulder, but heeseung stops stops him.

“don’t bother,” heeseung snickers. “jake’s too obsessed with his girlfriend to hear you.”

he lives for picnic dates with you in autumn when the leaves are turning their pretty shade of orange. he’d pick a more secluded place, one where you can run off into the nearby grass while he chases after you, pulling you into a hug and placing kisses all over your face once he catches you

PARK SUNGHOON

“i love you like slut by taylor swift”

park sunghoon was most definitely the most popular guy in your uni. he had the looks and his shy but charming personality made him even more attractive to the girls.

when they first saw you walking around with sunghoon, there were rumors that he was just using you because they’d never seen him with a girl before and he wasn’t the type of guy to get into a relationship (but boy were they wrong)

he wanted to take things slow because he really liked you, so you two began hanging out more and more and he even introduced you to his friends — heeseung, jake and jay.

heeseung and jake even took you to the arcade after one of your long exams, claiming they needed to take care of sunghoon’s girlfriend even though he hadn’t officially asked you out yet.

when girls at the uni saw this, they freaked out, bombarding you with words like slut or whore simply because you were hanging out with sunghoon’s friends.

“i don’t know why they hate me so much.” you sniffle as you wipe away your tears. one of the girls had bumped into your shoulder harshly as she was walking by, creating a small but aching bruise where she had hit.

“c’mere.” sunghoon says, pulling you into his arms. “they’re just jealous because i like you and not them. you’re the most beautiful and sweetest girl i know.”

even though everybody seemed to like park sunghoon, he made it clear that he wanted you, and when he pulled you in earlier as you cried to him, you realized that in a world full of boys, park sunghoon was a gentleman.

KIM SUNOO

“i love you like sweet by cigarettes after sex”

it was truly easy to fall in love with kim sunoo. he was the epitome of sunshine, and he made your days just a little bit brighter by simply being around you.

loving kim sunoo was sweet and delicate, going on small dates where you two would walk around and eat street food as you admired the views that seoul had to offer.

“i love you, you know that?” sunoo suddenly says, finishing up the last of the bread he bought from the sweet old lady vendor next to your house.

“all of a sudden?” you giggle nervously, tippy toeing to place a small kiss on the bridge of his nose.

“just thought i’d let you know.” he shrugs. “i love you more than anything.”

“i love you too sun,” you smile. “you’re the sweetest boy i could ask for.”

YANG JUNGWON

“i love you like real love baby by father john misty”

loving yang jungwon felt like finally kissing your soulmate in the rain.

it felt like kissing them with such a passion even though both of your hairs are wet from the water and you swear that you’ll catch a cold the next day by your soaked clothes.

however, it doesn’t matter because you’re finally with the one person that you want.

loving yang jungwon felt like that. it felt real, and it felt like it was the final piece in your missing puzzle.

“wanna dance in the rain?” jungwon asks, eyebrows wiggling themselves at you.

you roll your eyes, smacking your hand against his chest softly. “and risk catching a fever? i thought you were more responsible than that yang.”

“ouch,” he says, holding his chest. “we’re on last name basis now?”

you pull him in, placing a kiss so quickly on his lips that he whines when you push him back.

“that was not fair!” he says, sitting himself next to you on the soft fuzzy floor.

“oh my won baby,” you tease. “we can dance in the rain only if you promise we get chinese takeout after.”

“PROMISE!” he shrieks, grabbing your hand as he practically runs over to the coat shack.

NISHIMURA RIKI

“i love you like black friday by tom odell”

nishimura riki was a joker by heart. he loved playing around and making jokes because it made his body rush with dopamine that fueled his ability to keep going.

however, when he was with you, it was like there was a whole new side to him — that not even his friends or family knew.

“i wish i had a better body,” you say, frowning as you look down at your legs that were currently tangled with riki’s on the couch. “i wanna be perfect like all of my friends.”

the clicking of his remote stops immediately after you say that, his game console long abandoned as he untangles his legs from yours, pulling you straight into his arms.

“yah, where is this coming from?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “did someone say something?”

“no.” you sigh.

“you know that you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever set my eyes on?” he says, holding your shoulders so that he could make direct eye contact with you. “pretty like the ocean, pretty like the wind, everytime i’m around you — i get this rush of adrenaline. you make me so happy.”

your eyes soften at his sweet and genuine tone, wrapping your arms around his neck as you play with his hair. “i love you riki, you make me happy too.”

he lets you lay your head on his lap as he plays his game, your laugh every time he made a noise of disapproval at his teammates made his heart leap.

[kyoukamybeloved]

“You sound like you’re certain he’s human.”

“There’s no way I could hate a man-made character string this much.”

“Look at us getting along so well. That’s what makes me love you!”

similar posts: 1, 2, 3

little beast - Richard Siken// art by @velaversal// I know the end - Phoebe Bridgers// cinnamon girl - Lana del Rey// This poem is want - Seema Reza// art from @seukorei// portrait of a blank slate - lovejoy// stormbringer - Kafka Asagiri// the secret history - Donna Tartt// art by @greendy2l// renegade - Taylor swift and big red machine// persuasion - Jane Austen// letters to Sartre - Simone de Beauvoir// art by @lotus-pear// pretty when you cry - Lana del Rey// for memories - wilbur// art by @liyv// Stormbringer - Kafka Asagiri// bite the hand - boygenius// shrike - hozier// Dazai Chuuya age fifteen - Kafka Asagiri// art by @thornedarrow// on a red horse - Marina Tsvetea// think of you - bleached// fragile - Molly Burton// art from dead apple manga// lonely - Natalie Wee// a loving feeling - Mitski// manga panels from Dazai Chuuya age fifteen and Dead apple// good light - Andrea Gibson// the papa and mama dance - Anne Sexton// ruin & rising - Leigh Bardugo// she is made of chalk - L.M. Dorsey// a farewell to arms - Ernest Hemingway// perfume - lovejoy// art by @j11nko// tasting the moon - Caitlyn Slehl// bonjour tristesse - Françoise Sagan// trust - Lucy Dacus// art by @pleucas// opera house / cigarettes after sex// on earth we’re briefly gorgeous - Ocean Vuong// the basket - Willa Cather// art by @pleucas// wanting - Emma Bleker//

tagging moots and some accounts who seemed to really like my other skk webweave, if you want me to untag you no worries just send me a message :)

@amagami-hime @philzokman @vivid-vices @nnavia @dazaiyuri @aelxr @bunglegaydogs @circuslemon @ricelover888 @anneme404 @charlidrawz @gorotic @oatmilkbasic @zamxii @dinosaur-mayonnaise @pendragonstar

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [4/...]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

"I think my brain is rotting in places, I think my heart is ready to die, I think my body's falling in pieces, I think my blood is passing me by."

— Mitski, "Brand New City"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, Buggy is a lonely asshole, "Cross-Hairs"/reader is a lonely asshole too, flashbacks, semi-canon divergence, Reader is strong AF, a mixture of both the Reader's and Buggy's POVs, angst

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than usual with only 2.2k words... Sorry.

Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

You’re like a savage beast when you’re fighting, Buggy admits to himself in awe as he watches you tear through your opponents one by one with substantially more strength than anyone thought your body capable of.

But Buggy's not just anybody. He's always known that your body is of a special sort, an Iron Maiden encompassed by skin, flesh, veins, arteries, and ligaments; capable of bringing ruin to anyone and anything if only you have reason enough. Chains can't hold you, nor can any power on this earth.

He relishes in it.

You have your sword and your pistol both disposable at the belt on your hip, but you seem to have no interest in wielding them for the battle. No, your body is a weapon on its own; a blade cutting through people like grass straws on a narrow field.

It’s during times like these — when he gets to watch your strength from the front rows — that he wonders whether you’ve eaten a Devil Fruit of your own at some point, but that can't be. He’s seen you swim.

You, him, and Shanks had been simply traveling through the town where the Oro Jackson was docked, minding your own business when a group of rival pirates suddenly ambushed you. Thinking they easily could kidnap the apprentices of the famous Gol D. Roger and demand ransom, the shidiots would quickly come to realize that they made a mistake.

A very costly one at that. One they will be sure not to repeat.

Whereas he and Shanks stand partnered together against a few of the rival group, you are holding your own quite well from the other side of the fight. He swears he saw one of the men flying over him at some point, though it might’ve just been a trick of the adrenaline.

Kicking one of the larger pirates straight in the balls with his lower body severed from the rest, he turns his upper body to catch a glimpse of you in case you need help.

What he sees instead is a flash of the sun reflecting in your eyes as you pounce at your prey, casting a yellow line in the air that reminds him of lightning about to strike the ground. Everything around him seems to cease mid-motion save for you. There is no fighting going on, no shouting, no Shanks telling him to take cover from an incoming blow.

All he sees is you, and all he hears is his own voice telling him: "Gods, you’re fucking marvelous."

The last thing he hears is Shanks shouting his name before the world begins to darken around him, and the last thing he sees is lightning making its way toward him, destroying everything in its path to get to him.

He wonders drowsily if it's going to strike him too.

———

The fight that ensues reminds you of the battles you partook in during your years as Captain. The chaos in it all. The carnage. The general inability to think properly as you fight. Of course, your opponents back then lacked Buggy's uncanny ability to split up into multiple parts while still alive, but it doesn't stop you. 

Nothing on this earth can.

Blades are thrown, skin is cut, and by the time you get close enough to reach him, a number of props have scattered to pieces in the midst of your warfare. It seems like an endless battle trying to defeat him, just get him to fucking stay still.

Just as you reach for Buggy's chest with your nails reached out to claw at his vest, his midsection separates and all you're left with is air. Just empty air.

He cackles as he puts himself back a few good feet from where you're standing. "C'mon! Put your back into it! It's like you're not even tryin—!"

In a flash, your face is hairsbreadths away from his, and it feels like everything around him stops. 

At that moment, he realizes that the golden color of the sun has not left your eyes. Only to find that, upon closer inspection, it's not the color of the sun that he's met with.

It's thunder, and it strikes hard.

Before he has the chance to blink, the next thing he knows is the feeling of a boulder being pushed against his stomach. Not a sound leaves his throat save for a guttural groan, and he finds himself on the ground before he knows it with stars adorning the edges of his vision.

Gods, he thinks while in a state of both pain and exhausted satisfaction, your face a blurred canvas in his eyes. You’re so fucking marvelous.

By the time Nami and Zoro debut to join the battle, you have already pinned Buggy to the ground with your legs planted firmly on each side of his hips, and a bruising grip around his neck as you press your forearm down onto it. Not enough to cut his flow of oxygen, but enough so that he doesn't have the capacity to move unless he splits.

His face, the very same face you used to paint when you were younger, looks up at you with nothing short of manic glee. He doesn't even divide himself up to get free this time. It's almost like merely connecting to him, even during an act of violence such as this, is enough to keep him entertained. Happy, you dare think.

You find those sea-blue eyes looking up at you, and before you try and strike the finishing blow, you hesitate. You fuckinghesitate, because when it all comes down to it, you can't find it in yourself to kill him. 

The legendary Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, the executioner of a thousand marines and other pirates, can't kill something this time.

You can't kill him. You can't kill those ocean-blue eyes, even when your body yearns to see through with what you promised. You always stick to your promises, but for the first time in forever, you don't. You can't. 

Not him.

Never him.

Meanwhile, Buggy can't help examining you like you're the most fascinating creature he's ever laid his eyes on, because you are. Even after all this time, he's still as drawn to the fire in your eyes that as he was all those years ago. It's a feeling he can never hope to extinguish.

Nor does he want to.

Being the jester that he is, however, he takes the moment to his advantage. This one, vulnerable moment. It's not out of pettiness, but survival. Nothing personal.

He separates his femur and exploits the momentum to knock you off him. He can tell you're surprised as you position yourself on your knees and hands, yet it only takes you a ghost of a moment to recover.

The fire is back in your eyes, a thousand times brighter this time, and the fight continues. 

Now, neither of you holds back, and he becomes first-hand acquainted with just how ruthless truly you can be. When there is nothing keeping you down.

Truth be told, it excites him. Very much so. 

He has the Bounty Hunter and the Tangerine-haired girl hot on his tail, but he hardly provides them a medium of his attention. You're the only thing he can't take his eyes off.

"NAMI! THE CRATES!"

And that's where the entire play gradually comes to an end. Maybe it's what pisses him off the most?

You stalk after his separated body parts like a hunter after a flock of deer, throwing them into the crates as the rest of your companions follow suit. Whereas Nami and Zoro are strategic with their actions, complementing each other, you're acting on pure, unadulterated wrath. 

You do not have Luffy's stretchy capabilities, Zoro's precision, or Nami's diligence. 

What you have is something far, far deadlier.

It's twenty years of pent-up heartache.

Catching pieces of him is much easier than catching all of him.

This is what it's come to, with you and him fighting; with you and him having different goals. It's not the future you envisioned for yourself at all. In fact, it's the exact opposite. If you knew then what you know now, you would've ... 

Once, it was you and him together against the rest of the world. Now, it's you against him, against the rest of the world.

You can feel your eyes threaten to sting as you catch his femur and throw it in an open box that promptly shuts, but like with everything else, you push it down. You push it until all that remains is the vague ache. 

It doesn't matter, you tell yourself. This is what it will stay like. 

In the end, all of his body parts save for his head, hands, and feet are spared from the confinement of the containers, and when he melds them together to a pathetically small version of his usual self, you can't help but address the irony of the situation.

"What have you done to me?!" Buggy cries.

Luffy grins as he caresses his beloved hat, having suffered the most injuries. "Cut you down to size."

Buggy looks as small as you felt that day. Helpless. Pathetic. Reduced to almost nothing.

Still, it's not a moment that brings you any happiness. Not any victory, or satisfaction. You don't even have the urge to gloat. 

All it brings you, as you tower over him from the side, is nothingness. 

You're tempted to kick him, and you almost do. You take a step closer to him, a river of anger rushing through your veins. With nowhere else to go, it circles.

"The One Piece will never be yours!" Buggy yells and flaps his hands, too focused on Luffy to notice you calmly stalking toward him from the dark. "You're just a sad, lonely little boy, wearing another man's hat!" 

It’s Shanks’s hat, you want to scream. Our friend’s hat. Don’t you remember?

Luffy's words don't register with you as you kneel in front of the shortened clown, nor do Nami's questions or Zoro's inquisitive eyes. It all tunes out into the background as you raise your hand slowly to Buggy, and you think about how easy it will be. It will be so easy to end it now. He's weak, he's practically defenseless. There's nothing to stop you now.

Buggy simply stares when he notices you, his mouth slightly parted in what you can only perceive as surprise and ... disbelief? You take one final look at his face, the same face you used to paint long ago, and you briefly wonder how many layers of white, red, and blue separate this one from the touches you applied years ago. 

Is there still some residue left? Any fingerprint? Does anything from you still linger with him, or did he try to scrub your touches off his face the same way he tried to scrub you from his life altogether?

Buggy is completely still as your outstretched fingers close in on him, and he thinks that this is it. Now's the moment when you will make good on your threats, where you'll finally kill him. Truth be told, it's a less-than-satisfactory way to go, but surprisingly enough, it doesn't bother him half as much as he expected it would.

Maybe it's because, after all this time, it's still you until the end? You and him, like it was always meant to be.

He closes his eyes with a sigh and finds that the edge of his lip tilts a little up. "Go for it," he says, awaiting the moment when your calloused fingers grip him. He can anticipate your nails clawing at his scalp, tearing the skin of his cranium, digging until there is nothing left to tear at.

Devil Fruit or not, you're the only one he'll let end him like this.

Except, you don't.

All he feels are your fingertips gently grazing the sides of his cheek, so uncharacteristically soft against his thin stubbles that he could've mistaken it for air brushing his face.

The same hands he knows capable of such great feats of violence and brutality, the same ones who had just fought against him with enough strength to match a beast, are touching him like he's made of glass. 

He snaps his eyes open, and when he meets your gaze, he's surprised to find them ... empty. Hollow. 

The sun is gone, and so is the thunder. Now, there are only clouds in his view.

"Goodbye, Buggy." Your voice is so tranquil that he strains to hear it, and before he gets to, you stand up again and turn your back to him. "He's all yours, Luffy."

No, no! He tries to walk up to you, but his shortened sature won't let him. Don't look away, not yet! Look at me! If only to keep your fucking promise! Just fucking pleas—Please just look at me again!

"GUM-GUM—!"

"No, no, no!" Buggy, for the first time in his life, begs as the kid stretches his arms backward. Not like this. Not yet. He tries to search for you, only to discover that you've already left the circus tent. "Wait, wait, wait! Just wait!"

"— BAZOOKA!"

[aesplaylist]

tolerate it by taylor swift but make it a playlist

what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? 

believe me i could do it.

01. tolerate it - taylor swift; 02. don't wanna break up again - ariana grande; 03. mean it - gracie abrams; 04. expectations - lauren jauregui; 05. over breakfast - ellise; 06. 1 step forward, 3 steps back - olivia rodrigo; 07. watercolor eyes - lana del rey; 08. you're losing me - taylor swift; 09. you've changed - billie holiday; 10. july - noah cyrus; 11. pink in the night - mitski; 12. bad enough - kate stewart; 13. notice - little mix. ++more

feel free to suggest a song for this playlist or make a playlist request <3