#my partner was the perfect person for her and they helped her feel a lot less scared and shes just a sweet baby

[faggling]

my partner/friend+ is putting their dog down tomorrow and I'm so angry and sad. She just deserved a lot more than the world gave her and she deserves so much more time in the world being happy and knowing she's safe.

Her body is just going to get worse though and you can see how much more pain she's in. It's hard to know how much longer she'd be able to walk and she already has been more aggressive due to the pain and if it gets worse there's no way she'd let anyone touch her, much less carry her. It's the right decision but fuck man

[d1stalker]

All of You, All of Me [Logan Howlett]

Summary: In a world of black and white, the only person who could bring colour to your life is the last one who'd want to.

Warnings: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, fem!reader, slow burn, angst, running away from feelings, pining, grovelinggg WC: 14.2k - MASTERLIST - A/N: help i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to get this long, but this fic is my baby

----

You've always cherished the idea of having a soulmate—someone who would love you unconditionally, waiting just for you as you them. The thought of finding that perfect match, the one who complements you in every way, is something you’ve always dreamed of. 

But as you get older, the hope you carry seems to dwindle more and more each year. Everyone around you has found their other half, reveling in the newfound ability to see colours in all their glory, and soaking up every moment of shared affection.

Everyone, except for you.

Your world remains a stark, colourless void, as if the universe is deliberately withholding the one thing you desire most.

And to make matters worse, despite not finding your soulmate, you are unequivocally, irrevocably in love with someone who has.

Logan Howlett.

You can’t remember a time where you didn’t feel anything toward him. His rugged, lone-wolf demeanor snuck its way deep into the crevices of your heart, and made itself a home there.

You and him formed an unlikely friendship, formed through the desire to fight back against all the people who’ve wronged mutants. Over the years, you had accepted the fact that while he wasn’t yours, at least you were alone together. Well, until she came.

Jean Grey.

She was strong, charming, and everything you felt you weren’t. It was no wonder her and Logan were meant to be together—the stoic, brooding mutant and his graceful, strong-willed counterpart. 

You remember the day it happened so vividly, it’s almost like you were the one who found their life partner. You and him had been walking around the mansion, when Charles had called you into his office to meet someone new. One look at their faces when they made eye contact and you knew you’d lost him.

It pained you to see them all over each other, all the time. Your once-regular walks in the garden became rare, then vanished entirely. On missions, he no longer looked out for you; his attention was consumed by protecting her. And as much as it hurt, you couldn’t deny they seemed perfect for each other—just as soulmates should be. You had no right to feel jealous.

Then, just as quickly as she had entered his life, she left it. 

The Pheonix was too strong, ripping her apart from the inside out. The pained scream he let out as not only his heart died, but as the world around him faded back into black and white, was forever ingrained into your memory. 

Logan was never the same after that.

 —

You trudge down the familiar halls of the mansion, your feet heavy with the weight of the day. It’s been long, filled with training sessions, team meetings, and a lot of paperwork. All you want to do is retreat to your room, lose yourself in a book, or maybe just sleep until the ache in your chest dulls.

As you walk, you hear faint commotion down the hallway—a low murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of something being moved. But you pay it no mind, too lost in your thoughts to care. Another mission, another discussion, another moment where you aren’t needed. It’s all so routine now.

Lost in your reverie, you don’t notice the figure walking toward you until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, the impact jolting you back to reality.

“Oh, sorry—” you begin, stepping back, but the words die on your lips as you look up.

It’s Logan.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, shock rippling through your body as you process his presence. And for a moment, neither of you speak. You just stand there, taking him in—the man who was once your closest friend, the man who was torn apart by grief and loss. His clothes are rumpled, his skin rougher than you remember, like he’s been through hell and back. 

You hadn’t seem him in a long time. After the devastation, he stopped talking to everyone. He holed himself up in his room for days at a time, only coming out in the dead of night to eat. Either that, or he was away on a mission–anything to stay distracted. 

But now, looking at him, there’s something different off. Something you can’t quite place your finger on. Did he always look like that? Maybe it’s the way the light above is reflecting off of him. Or maybe it’s—oh.

Looking around in surprise, you watch as the usually dark, stoic walls explode into a deep, rich shade. The carpet below you—no longer a mural of grey—radiates colors you can’t name. Your hands, his eyes, his hair-

You want to open your mouth and say something, anything, to the man who has caused your world to shift on its axis, but he’s already turned, walking away from you.

“Give me a fuckin’ break.”

----

Brown. Logan’s hair is brown.

After Logan leaves you paralyzed in the hallway, you run to your room, find the book on colors you had stashed in your bedside table, and throw open the cover. In it is a diagram that displays every known colour and their names. You learn that your favorite pair of pants are maroon, your bedsheets are navy green, and the X-Men suits are bright yellow and blue.

You stare at the page, each word blurring as your mind tries to process the impossible. Logan’s hair is brown. The thought keeps repeating in your head like a mantra, over and over again, until it becomes a steady thrum, drowning out everything else.

Brown.

You sit back on your bed, letting the book slip from your hands, the pages crumpling as it hits the floor.

Why him? Why me? Why now?

You begin to fidget, the adrenaline of the prior moment causing your heart to flail in your chest like crazy. You can’t stay here, you think to yourself. The idea of locked in your room with only your thoughts for company does not sound appealing. You need air, something to ground you, something to clear the haze clouding your head. Without thinking, you jump out of bed and find yourself heading up to the roof, the one place where you can breathe without feeling like the walls of the mansion closing in on you.

The trip up the stairs feels longer than ever before, each step heavy under the weight of your mind. It’s like every thought adds ten pounds. When you open the door, the cool night air hits you like a welcomed slap to the face, and you exhale deeply.

Walking to the edge, you lean against the railing. You’re in a daze - wondering if you made up the entire thing in your head. The only proof that you haven't, and that Logan being your soulmate is real, is the colours that coat the mansion’s grounds. The moonlight bathes everything in what you now know as a soft, silver glow, and for a moment, you just stand there, looking out into the distance.

It doesn’t make sense, and the more you try to wrap your head around it, the more tangled your thoughts become. You don’t want to face the possibility of what it could mean, but you can’t just brush it aside either. It has quite literally changed your entire life. 

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quiet your racing mind. But when you open them again, you freeze.

Logan is standing at the other end of the roof, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the sky. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and for a split second, you consider turning back, retreating before he sees you. It would be a wise idea - he didn’t want to talk to you then, and he probably doesn’t want to talk to you now. But, it an act that can only be seen as your own body betraying you, you take a step forward. 

The sudden movement catches his attention, and his head snaps in your direction, his eyes locking onto yours. 

“Why are you here?” he asks accusingly.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Seeing him out here was the last thing you had expected, and now that he’s in front of you, you are at a loss of words.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and he pushes off the wall, walking toward you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed air,” you manage to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just needed to clear my head.”

“Well, find somewhere else to do it,” he snaps, “I don’t want company.”

“Logan, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, not even bothering to hear you out. “Don’t start. I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

You blink, taken aback, and hurt at his coldness. “What are you talking about?”

He lets out a low, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? God, I… this is all so fucking stupid.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. “I wasn’t—”

“Enough!” he barks, his voice echoing in the night. “I’m not interested, alright? Whatever it is you think is happening between us, it’s not real. It’s just some stupid trick of the universe, and I’m not playing along.”

His words hit you like a physical blow - like you’ve just been shot at right in the heart - and you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. “I don’t understand. I didn’t mean for any of this—”

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” he snaps at you, “And I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like there’s something here,” he gestures between you two, “when there isn’t. You’re not mine, and I’m sure as hell not yours.”

The finality in his tone leaves you breathless, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. You have nothing to say back, he’s not giving you any slack. The reality of his rejection sinks in with a brutal, crushing weight, you have to put in effort to not stumble over. 

After a long moment, you finally collect yourself. Then, “Okay,” you whisper. “I understand.”

Logan’s expression doesn’t soften; if anything, it grows colder, more distant.

“Good. Then stay away from me.”

You nod, eyes filling with tears. You quickly turn your face away, not wanting him to see just how much he’s hurt you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge your apology. He just turns away, his back to you, effectively shutting you out.

You stand there for a long moment, watching him walk away for the second time that night. The colours that seemed so vibrant, so full of life just a moment ago, now feel like a cruel reminder of everything you could never have.

—

When you eventually return to your room, all you can do is lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your encounter with Logan on the roof replays in your mind on an endless loop, each harsh word he’d thrown at you cutting deeper than the last. It’s causes pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, pain that seems to have no end, no respite.

If he doesn’t want you in his life, you’ll accept that. You have to - it’s not like you have a choice. Soulmates are a two-way street.  

You can’t force him to feel something he doesn’t, can’t make him see you in a way he clearly never will. And you understand, don’t you? You can’t even imagine how difficult this would be for him. Losing your soulmate, and then the universe saying Fuck You and giving you another? 

You’ll never ever forget how wrecked he was when Jean died. How her death shattered him into pieces so small you weren’t–no–you’re still not sure he’ll ever be whole again. 

And you—where do you stand in the grand scheme of things? Just as the unfortunate recipient of a bond that neither of you asked for? Are you even allowed to be upset about this?

—

Waking up the next morning, you honestly wish you hadn’t. You knew you weren’t on good terms with Logan after his little rooftop showcase of emotions, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he starts to treat you.

His face is stuck in a perpetual scowl when you’re in his vicinity. He’s leaving every room the moment you enter, refusing to look at you, speak to you, or acknowledge your presence in any way. It’s as if you’ve become invisible, a ghost haunting the same halls you once shared with him. There’s only one thing you two seem to wordlessly agree on: don’t tell anyone. 

Each day following becomes a struggle, an unbearable test of your strength as you try to make it through without breaking. You begin to avoid Logan as much as he avoids you, but the mansion is only so big, and there are always moments when you catch sight of him in the distance, his broad shoulders hunched, his brooding face glaring daggers in your direction. 

It hurts you every time, an unending torture that leaves you stumbling. Still, you bite your tongue and keep moving, pretending you don’t care.

But you do care. You care more than you want to admit, more than you think is possible. Because despite everything—despite the rejection, the coldness, the anger—you still love him. 

And that’s the cruelest twist of all.

So you endure it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Letting it tear you apart piece by piece, because what else can you do? You carry this burden alone, just as you’ve carried your feelings for him all these years. And maybe one day, the pain will fade, the bond will weaken, and you’ll be able to move on.

—

The only person you tell is Charles.

“What’s on your mind, my child?” he asks one day, while you’re sweeping the dust in his office. 

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your hands as you focus on cleaning. You know he’s just asking out of courtesy, and that he could easily crawl into your mind and figure it out himself. He probably wouldn’t even need to put in that much effort, given how loud your thoughts are. But still, you don’t yield to his probing.

“Nothing, really,” you mutter, forcing a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Just… tired, I guess.”

Charles watches you carefully, his eyes full of the warmth and compassion he always has, but this time, it makes you feel uncomfortable. Like he can see right through the facade you’re trying so hard to maintain, which you have no doubt, he does. 

“I’m here to help, whatever the burden.”

You want to groan. It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose but damn does it feel like he’s trying to guilt you into confessing that you just recently had your heart shattered. 

“I know, Professor. But… it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“You forget, I worry about all of you,” he replies gently. “It’s in my nature.”

The chuckle that crawls out your throat is nothing short of bitter. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep the emotions at bay. Do you really want to explain to him the insurmountable suffering you’re in, the rejection you faced from the one person who is supposed to be your soulmate? How can you tell him that the bond the universe forged is the very thing tearing you apart?

“It’s just… I don’t know how to make sense of it, Professor,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s so… wrong.”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Wrong how?”

Knowing that you’re teetering into confession territory, you hesitate, needing time to collect your thoughts. 

“Logan… he… we… It’s not supposed to be like this, is it?” you eventually get out. Not your best work, but you know he’d get the gist. 

Understanding dawns in Charles’s eyes, and you can see the sympathy there, the quiet acceptance of the truth you’re struggling to voice. “The bond you share… it’s more than you expected, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling the tears well up again. “But he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want me.”

The professor sighs softly, and he looks at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Logan has been through so much, more than most could bear. His heart has been wounded in ways that are difficult to heal, and it’s not surprising that he would resist this new connection.”

“So why me?” you ask. “Why bind me to someone who will never love me?”

Leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully, he says, “I wish I had an answer for you, my dear. The universe works in mysterious ways, ways that often defy our understanding. But I do know this: the bond you share is there for a reason. Whether it’s meant to bring you closer or to teach you something important… that remains to be seen.”

“It feels like a punishment,” you whisper, the tears finally spilling over. As much as you hate being put on the hot seat, you can admit that it feels good talking to someone about it.  “Every day, it hurts more. And he won’t even look at me. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“The heartache you’re feeling is profound, but you must understand that it’s not your fault. Logan’s reaction isn’t a reflection of your worth, but of his own pain and fear.”

He reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your own before continuing.

“To love, even when it’s not returned, takes incredible courage. But you must also take care of yourself. Give Logan the space he needs, and in the meantime, allow yourself the grace to heal.”

So you do. In the days that follow your conversation with Charles, you make a promise to yourself—to try, really try, to focus on your own life, to reclaim the parts of yourself that have been overshadowed by the pain of this unrequited love.

The colours are still there, vivid and vibrant, and though they sometimes feel like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be, you find moments where they bring you joy. You marvel at the deep blue of the sky, the rich greens of the trees, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves and paints the world in golden hues. It’s like seeing the world anew, and in those moments, you allow yourself to feel happiness.

Moreover, you busy yourself, volunteering for every assignment that comes your way. The adrenaline, the focus, the purpose—they all help to drown out the pain, even if only temporarily. And when you return from each mission, tired but satisfied, you feel a little more like yourself again.

The mansion, too, becomes less of a prison and more of a home once more. You start spending more time with the others, rejoining them for meals, for training sessions, for movie nights. 

You laugh with Rogue, spar with Scott, and even find yourself engaging in playful banter with Remy. It’s not perfect, and there are still moments where you catch yourself faltering, when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under, but those moments are becoming fewer and farther between.

You’re healing, slowly but surely, and with each passing day, you feel a little stronger, a little more in control of your life—of your emotions. 

But then there are the times when you cross paths with Logan, and those moments are the hardest.

One evening, after returning from a particularly grueling mission, you find yourself heading toward the kitchen, your mind on the sandwich you plan to make. The place is quiet, most of the team out on various assignments, or finishing up on some work, and you relish the peace as you walk down the corridor.

However, just as you reach the kitchen door and push it open, you find Logan standing there, preparing to exit the room at the exact same moment. Your heart lurches, and you stop dead in your tracks, almost like a deer caught in headlights. 

His gaze meets yours, and all you can see is his impassive, stoic expression. He steps back, giving you space to enter, but the tension between you is palpable.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Logan doesn’t say anything, barely nodding—if you could even it that— before brushing past you, his shoulder grazing yours. The brief contact sends a jolt through your system, and you have to force yourself to stay still and not physically react. 

Once he leaves, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing from the encounter. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him—so long since you’ve seen the deep brown of his hair that you love so much. You hate this. 

Why does he have no reaction to at all? Why is it only you who seems to care? 

Because you are the only one who does care.

You move into the kitchen, still intent on eating, but it’s a challenge. Your hands are trembling.

—

It all comes to a head one night during dinner. In this rare occasion, both you and Logan are in the same room. You’re supposed to be celebrating Rogue and Gambit’s anniversary, and even though you insisted that they share this special moment together alone, they didn’t take no for an answer. 

That’s how you find yourself, sitting at the grand dining table with all your friends, and Logan. 

He’s across from you. Just your luck.

He refuses to spare you a single glance, his eyes staying busy the whole night. And while it’s been months and months of this, you have never gotten used to it. Still, you can’t help but sneak a few looks at that chocolate-coloured hair. Brown. 

Everything seems to be going smoothly, the food is delicious and the dessert even better, but when Gambit presents Rogue with a giant painting, that’s when you slip up. 

“I love how you blended the red with the blue!” You compliment, loving the way he managed to create the perfect contrast between shades. You’re too caught up in staring at the artwork to realize the table as gone deathly quiet, all eyes on you.

Rogue's expression is one of gentle confusion, her head tilted slightly as she tries to make sense of your words. “Darling, I thought you couldn’t see colour?”

In any other situation, you’re sure the team would have laughed at how comically large your eyes got, and how all the blood draining from your face makes you look like a gaping fish, but in this moment, nothing is funny. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, and when you finally muster the courage to glance at him, you see that his all-too familiar glare you’ve been subject to for the last half-year. It makes your heart thud painfully in your chest

“I…” you begin, but you falter. Your mind is going through a thousand thoughts per minute, searching for an excuse you can use to deflect, to pretend it was just a mistake, but the silence is too heavy, too demanding.

Rogue’s confusion deepens, her gaze flickering between you and Logan, who is now staring at you with an expression that’s impossible to read. She starts to say something, but Remy gently places a hand on her arm, shaking his head slightly as if to tell her to let you speak. 

Logan’s gaze stays locked on you for a moment longer. Then, without a word, he pushes his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sound echoes in the silence, and before you can react, he stands up and walks out of the room, his movements stiff, almost mechanical.

The door closes behind him with a quiet click, and the tension in the room thickens. You feel a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your heart sinking as the reality of what just happened crashes over you. 

You lower your head, your eyes stinging with tears that you fight desperately to hold back. But it’s no use. The emotions you’ve been trying to keep buried for so long bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the tears start to fall. 

“I think I need a moment,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling as you stand up from the table. Without waiting for a response, you hastily excuse yourself and head for the door, not before mumbling a quick apology to the couple in which you were there for.

Soon you find yourself outside in the gardens, the nightly breeze hitting your face as you make your way to a secluded bench. You can’t even appreciate the beauty in what you see, because all you feel is the overwhelming sense of failure and sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.

Sitting down heavily on the bench, you bury your face in your hands and let go. The sobs come hard and fast, each one ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. You’re heartbroken and angry and absolutely over it, but at the same time you feel like a massive asshole because who are you to be upset with a man who’s mourning the loss of a soulmate? 

It’s not fair.

You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in your grief, but eventually, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, wiping at your eyes, and see Scott walking toward you.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks gently.

You shake your head, unable to find your voice, and Scott sits down beside you on the bench. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak, “I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

Scott clicks his tongue in disagreement, his gaze focused on the gardens ahead. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s clear you’ve been carrying this burden for a long time. It’s no wonder it slipped out tonight.”

“So everyone knows now?” you ask. He nods.

“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” he concludes, and you groan, bringing your hands to your face.

“I just… I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be pitied.”

“Pity isn’t what anyone feels right now,” Scott says softly. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been hurting, and we didn’t see it. That’s on us.”

“It’s not your fault,” you bring your hands down from your face. “I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own. I thought I could handle it, but… clearly I was wrong”

With a serious expression, Scott turns to look at you. “I know what you’re going through, more than you might realize.”

You glance at him, surprised by his words. “You do?”

He nods, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was in love with Jean, remember? When her and Logan found out they were soulmates… it tore me apart. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move on, and for a long time, I couldn’t.”

The mention of Jean’s name brings a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but there’s also a strange comfort in knowing that Scott understands your pain. “How did you… how did you get through it?”

He sighs, “It wasn’t easy. It took a long time, and I had to accept it.”

You wipe at your eyes again, sniffling as you try to compose yourself. “I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while. Taking a longer mission, just to get away for a bit. Maybe then I can figure out how to move on.”

He is quiet for a moment, considering your words. “If that’s what you need to do, I understand,” he says, “sometimes, a change of scenery can help. Though I think you should try to talk to Logan again.”

Letting out a bitter laugh, you shake your head. “I don’t know if he’ll even listen to me. He’s made it pretty clear how he feels.”

“He’s hurting too,” He decides, “He’s not handling it well, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You both need closure, and running away won’t give you that.”

“What if it just makes things worse?”

“It might.” Scott places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “But it might also give you both the chance to start healing. You deserve that chance.”

You nod slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Take the time you need,” he says. “We’re all here for you.”

“Thanks, Scott. That means a lot.” You offer him a small, grateful smile.

With a final nod, he turns and walks back toward the mansion, leaving you once again alone in the quiet of the gardens. You take a deep breath, the idea of leaving still tugs at you, but now, there’s also the thought of confronting Logan—of finding some kind of closure, whatever that might mean.

You really don’t want to do it, and you’re pretty sure it’s just going to end the same way it did last time - with him shutting you out. But Scott’s words echo in your mind, reminding you that healing often requires confrontation, not avoidance.

Goddamn it.

You huff as you stand up from where you’re seated. You can’t keep running from this, can’t keep letting him run from this. You need to talk to Logan, to lay everything out on the table, even if it tears you apart in the process.

Your anxiety builds with each step as you approach his room, and you pause outside his door, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he could hear it if he was listening. This is it. There’s no turning back now. With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand and knock. 

There’s a long, agonizing pause, making you strain to hear any movement on the other side. For a second, the silence causes you think he might not answer, that he might just ignore you like he’s done so many times before. But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. Your heart catches in your throat as it slowly opens, revealing Logan standing there, his expression hard and unreadable.

The moment he realizes it’s you, his eyes darken, and he immediately moves to close the door, shutting you out yet again. However, you’re not letting him get away that easily. Before the door can fully close, you stick your foot out, blocking it with more force than you intended.

“C’mon, Logan,” you press. “You know we need to talk.”

He freezes, his grip on the door tightening until his knuckles turn white. His jaw clenches and unclenches, nostrils flaring. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if he can will you away if he tries hard enough. But he doesn’t push the door shut either. The room is thick with suspense, both of you standing there in a silent standoff.

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, Logan steps back, opening the door just a smidge wider, barely enough for you to squeeze through. It’s a reluctant invitation, but it’s all you need.

“Fine,” he mutters, his voice rough, edged with irritation. “Talk.”

You step into the room, and he closes the door behind you, lingering close to it, as if he’s ready to bolt at any second. You feel vulnerable and exposed. It’s suddenly hard to gather your thoughts when he’s standing so close, when the heat of his presence and the distance he’s placed between is right in your face.

“Why did you come?” Logan questions. He still refuses to look directly at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder.

“Because we can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening,” you reply, “We need to talk about what’s going on between us.”

His jaw tightens further, and his teeth grind with barely contained frustration. He finally looks at you, his eyes hard and defensive. “There’s nothing to say,” he says bitterly. “I told you how I feel. I thought that was enough.”

“It’s not enough!” you shoot back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think you can just push me away, pretend like this bond doesn’t exist, and that’s supposed to solve everything? It doesn’t work like that, Logan.”

He flinches slightly at your words, but his keeps his expression hard. “Well what do you want me to say?” he demands, his voice rising. “That I’m sorry? That I didn’t mean to hurt you? Because I am, and I didn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

His words hurt. 

“I know you told me how you feel,” you start, “but you’ve never let me tell you how I feel. You’ve never given me the chance to say that it’s been tearing me apart.”

A flash of guilt. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think you needed to say it. I already knew.”

“That isn’t fair,” you argue.

“You don’t understand,” he counters, “I lost Jean. I loved her, and when she died, it broke something in me. And now… now I’m supposed to just… move on? With you? It’s not that simple.”

“I never asked you to love me, Logan,” you say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “I never pushed for anything more than friendship—it’s not like you gave me the chance! You’ve been shutting me out, ignoring me, making me feel like I’m nothing more than a burden, like I don’t even matter!”

You can see that the pain in your voice hitting him hard, but he doesn’t apologize. Instead, he looks away, his expression conflicted. “I’m trying to protect you,” he mutters, the words sounding hollow even to him

“Protect me?” you echo incredulously. “All you’re doing is make me feel like shit. Like I’m worthless. I can’t even be your friend, to help you through this.”

You pause. “You expect us all to know how you’re feeling, but you can’t even communicate it.”

Logan winces, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, filled with a torment you’ve never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to get caught in his throat. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” he admits, his tone filled with a deep, aching sadness. “I don’t know how to let you in. Without her, I feel like… I can’t let anyone in.”

Your eyes soften a fraction his confession, but there’s also a deep frustration that burns inside you, a frustration born of months of pain and rejection. 

“You haven’t even tried,” you say softly with a quiet resignation, “You haven’t even tried to let me in, to see what we could have been, even if it was just as friends.”

What follows is a long, nagging silence. You let it linger, giving Logan the chance he needs to think of something to say. But there’s no answer, no promise that things will change, and then you realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not going to take that step, too broken to try.

That’s when it really hits you. 

Whatever you were fighting for, was a losing battle from the start. 

You give up.

This time, it is you who turns your back on him. 

“Goodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself.”

You don’t wait for a response. You don’t glance back. You walk out of the room, the door closing softly behind you, and with it, the last remnants of hope you had for something more.

— 

You decide to go on the mission.

It’s nothing complicated. Your task is to survey different regions of Europe, ensuring that there are no burgeoning anti-mutant operations threatening the safety of anyone. The primary goal is gathering information, and quiet observation. No violence, Charles told you in the debrief. 

The lack of immediate danger doesn’t make leaving any easier, though. This is as much about finding yourself as it is about fulfilling your duty.

Rogue and Kitty are with you during your final preparations, helping you pack the essentials and offering support in their own ways. They don’t ask many questions, probably sensing that this decision was not just made on a whim. And for that, you’re grateful.

“I still think you’re crazy for going solo,” Rogue says with a half-smile as she zips up your bag. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

You manage a small smile in return. “Thanks, Rogue. I just need some time…”

Kitty, who’s been quietly folding clothes and tucking them into your bag, looks up, seriousness clouding her gaze.  “We get it. Just promise you’ll keep in touch, okay? And don’t hesitate to call if you need backup.”

“I promise,” you assure.

She hesitates for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small device—the X-Men communicator gadget. She holds it out to you, and you reach your hand out. 

“Here,” she says softly, pressing the device into your hand. “This is so you can update us on your whereabouts, your status, or any important mission details. Even if you don’t need anything, just… let us know you’re okay, alright?”

You look down at the communicator in your hand, and close your fingers around it, nodding as you meet Kitty’s gaze. 

“Alright, I’ll check in regularly. I won’t leave you guys in the dark.”

Rogue finishes the last bit of organization. “You’ve got this,” she says, “And we’ve got your back, even from a distance.” You nod, appreciating their support more than you can express. 

It almost feels like a walk of shame—leaving the mansion. Everyone knows why too, and that makes it a thousand times worse. But you won’t let it get to you. With one last look, you get in your car and begin on the windy path to the airport. 

—

When you arrive in Europe, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer beauty of the landscape. Each city, each town, has its own unique charm, its own story to tell. The bustling uphill streets of Porto, the serene canals of Venice, the ancient ruins of Athens—they all offer a distraction from the turmoil inside you.

The only good part about this whole mess is that you can see colour, and truly appreciate the sights before you.

You move from one place to the next, blending in with the crowds, quietly observing, gathering information, and sending brief updates to the team through the communicator Kitty gave you. Every message is short, to the point, just enough to let them know you’re safe and on track. You don’t share much beyond the essentials, not wanting to burden them with your personal struggles.

Then, in a small café in Rome, you meet a man named Marco. He’s a traveler like you, exploring Europe with a curiosity that matches your own. He’s warm, easygoing, and before long, the two of you strike up a conversation over coffee.

He is charming in a way that makes you feel at ease, his laughter infectious as he shares stories of his travels. You don’t tell him much about yourself, keeping the details of your mission and your mutant abilities hidden. To him, you’re just another traveler, searching for something—though he doesn’t pry into what that something is.

As the days pass, you and Marco continue to cross paths, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone who doesn’t know about your past, about the things you’re running from. With him, you can be anyone, and for the first time in a long while, you start to feel a little lighter. You find yourself laughing more, the weight on your chest lifting a little each day. You don’t talk about the mission, and you certainly don’t talk about Logan.

One evening, as you’re both sitting on the steps of the Spanish Steps in Rome, watching the sunset, he turns to you with a grin. “So, where are you off to next?”

You hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much, but then you smile. “I’m heading to Florence. There are some places I need to check out.”

His eyes light up. “Florence? I’ve been meaning to re-visit. Mind if I tag along?”

A part of you wants to say no, to keep the distance you’ve carefully maintained, but another part—the part that’s been lonely for so long—nods in agreement. “Sure, why not?”

—

Back at the mansion, things haven’t been as positive. The once lively atmosphere has dimmed, replaced by an uneasy tension that lingers in the halls. The X-Men carry on with their duties, but there’s a noticeable shift—a missing piece that everyone feels but no one talks about. Logan, in particular, has become even more withdrawn, if that’s possible. The man who was once brooding and distant now seems even more so, his mood volatile and unpredictable.

His behavior has become a source of concern for the team. He’s always been rough around the edges, but now, it’s like the slightest thing can set him off. He snaps at everyone, his temper flaring at the smallest provocation. On missions, he’s reckless, throwing himself into danger without a second thought, as if he’s trying to outrun something—or someone. 

In many evenings, Logan finds himself in the mansion’s gym, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been plaguing him for months. The room is always empty, save for him, the steady rhythm of his fists pounding against the punching bag being the only sound. Sweat drips down his face, his muscles straining as he channels all his frustration and anger into each punch. Yet, no matter how hard he hits, he can’t seem to shake the thoughts of you that have been haunting him.

This night, door to the gym creaks open, and Logan doesn’t need to look up to know who it is. He can sense the other man’s presence, feel the weight of his gaze as he steps inside. He doesn’t slow his punches, doesn’t acknowledge Scott’s presence, but he knows why he’s here. They’ve had this conversation before—or something like it—but nothing’s changed. Nothing’s gotten better.

Scott watches him for a moment, his expression unreadable. He’s been watching Logan spiral for weeks now, but he’s kept his distance, knowing that he’d only be pushed away. But this can’t go on—Logan can’t keep doing this, can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he refuses to confront.

“She wouldn’t want this,” he finally says, voice cutting through the steady thud of Logan’s fists against the bag.

Logan’s movements falter for just a second before he resumes, his jaw tightening. “Who?” he growls, not bothering to turn around. “Her or Jean?”

Scott doesn’t flinch at the harshness in the other man’s tone. He steps closer, his eyes steady on their target as he answers, “Both.”

Finally, Logan stops. His fists still as he leans against the bag, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His shoulders are tense, the weight of Scott’s words pressing down on him like a physical burden. He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’s lost—of who he’s lost. 

Taking a step closer, Scott’s voice is firm. “Look, I’m not a spiritual person. But I also don’t think the universe messed up with this.”

Clenching, his fists, Logan knows what the other man is getting at, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Doesn’t want to think about what could have been, what he’s been too scared to even consider.

“I know you know how I felt about Jean,” Scott says quietly, knowing he’s breaching a sensitive subject. “Losing her… it killed me too. And if I had been given a chance—a real chance to be with her, to make things right—I would have taken it. No hesitation.”

Logan’s breath hitches at that. The truth is, he’s been running—running from you, from the bond you share, from the possibility of something real. 

“I’m not saying you should chase after her,” he continues. “But I am saying that you need to stop running from her. The universe doesn’t just throw things like this at us for no reason. And you know that.”

The weight of Scott’s words settle over Logan like a shroud. He knows the other man is right—deep down, he’s always known. But that doesn’t make it any easier. The fear, the guilt, the pain of losing Jean—it’s all still there, gnawing at him, holding him back. 

There’s something else too, something he’s been trying to ignore but can’t any longer: the way he feels about you, the way he’s always felt, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. One of the first thought’s that ran through his head when his world re-erupted into colour was that, had this happened before Jean, maybe it could have worked. Maybe he could have been what you wanted, felt something real.

Scott takes a step back, giving Logan the space he needs. “Just think about it,” he says softly. “Think about what you really want. And don’t wait until it’s too late to figure it out.”

Logan doesn’t respond, but Scott doesn’t need him to. He’s said what he needed to say, and now it’s up to him to decide what comes next. With a final look, Scott turns and leaves the gym, the door closing softly behind him.

The clawed mutant stands there for a long time, his fists still clenched, his mind racing. He knows he can’t keep doing this—can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he can’t change, something he’s too afraid to confront.

But change is terrifying, especially when it means facing the truth. The truth that maybe, just maybe, the bond he shares with you is something worth fighting for. Something that Jean wouldn’t want him to throw away.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Logan finally lets his fists unclench, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. He doesn’t have all the answers—hell, he barely knows where to start—but he knows one thing for sure: he's can’t run away anymore. Not from this, not from you.

—

You’ve now spent days in Florence, wandering through the Uffizi Gallery, marveling at the works of the Renaissance masters, and evenings enjoying the quiet serenity of the Arno River. With you, Marco. You’ve grown to trust him. He’s never made you uncomfortable, never had any intentions to take advantage of you, and knows all the best restaurants. 

But there’s always been a small, nagging doubt that you’ve pushed aside—a feeling that something isn’t quite right. You’ve ignored it, convincing yourself that you’re just being paranoid after everything you’ve been through. After all, he has been nothing but kind, always knowing the right thing to say, always showing up just when you need someone.

It isn’t until the two of you are exploring a quieter part of Florence, that the doubt flares into something more. You’re walking through an old, narrow alleyway, the kind that tourists rarely venture into, when Marco suggests you take a shortcut through a small, unmarked door in the side of a building.

“I found this place the last time I was here,” Marco says, his smile as easy as ever. “It’s a hidden gem, leads right to a beautiful courtyard. You’ll love it.”

You hesitate, something in his tone—or maybe it’s the way his eyes gleam just a little too brightly—sets off alarm bells in your mind. You’ve come to trust him though, haven’t you? You’ve traveled together for weeks, shared countless stories and laughs. Surely, he wouldn’t lead you into danger.

Still, as you step through the door, the darkened space beyond immediately feels wrong. The air is colder, damp, and the walls are lined with strange, unidentifiable equipment. You glance back at Marco, and that’s when you see it—the change in his expression. The warmth is gone, replaced by something cold and calculating.

Before you can react, you feel a sharp prick in your arm. Your vision blurs, and your body goes numb almost instantly. You stumble back, trying to push away, but your legs give out, and you collapse to the floor.

Marco looms over you, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a look of triumph. “Did you really think I didn’t know?” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a mutant, and you thought you could hide it from me?”

The world around you spins as the drug takes full effect, but you force your mind to stay focused. “What… why?” you manage to whisper, the betrayal cutting deep.

“Why?” He laughs, the sound harsh and devoid of any warmth. “Because mutants like you are worth a fortune. My clients pay top dollar for… research subjects. And you, my dear, are about to make me very, very rich.”

You try to move, to fight back, but your body refuses to respond. Panic rises in your chest as he kneels beside you, pulling out a small device that looks like a portable scanner. He runs it over you, and it emits a low hum as it registers your vital signs, confirming what he already knows. You’re weak. 

“You won’t get away with this,” you say.

“Oh, but I already have,” he replies with cruel satisfaction. “No one knows where you are. And even if they did, it’ll be too late by the time they find you.”

With the last bit of strength you can muster, you reach into your pocket, fingers trembling as you fumble with the X-Men communicator that Kitty gave you. His attention is momentarily distracted as he prepares a syringe filled with a clear liquid, and you seize the opportunity. You manage to pull out the communicator, your fingers barely able to grip it. Then, with a deep breath, you press the SOS button, the screen flashing to life.

You type in the message as quickly as you can, your vision blurring even more as the drug takes hold. 

Location: Florence. 

Message: Help.

Just as you hit send, Marco notices what you’re doing. His eyes widen in anger, and he grabs your wrist, yanking the communicator out of your hand. “You little—!” he snarls, but it’s too late. The message has already been sent.

His face contorts in rage as he slams the gadget against the ground, smashing it to pieces. He glares down at you, his hand tightening painfully around your wrist. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? But it doesn’t matter. They’ll never get here in time.”

Your strength is nearly gone, the drug pulling you into unconsciousness, but you manage one last defiant look. “You won’t win,” you whisper with the last of your energy.

Marco releases your wrist with a sneer, standing up and looking down at you with contempt again. “We’ll see about that,” he mutters before turning away, leaving you on the cold, hard floor as darkness overtakes you. 

You can only hope they—that Logan—will reach you in time.

—

The signal comes through during a meeting. A sudden, loud beep cuts through the room,  and everyone freezes, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the sound. To Kitty’s pocket. It’s the X-Men communicator, the one linked to your device. 

Logan’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he recognizes the tone. He’s on his feet before anyone else can react, his heart pounding in his chest. “What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice tense with urgency.

Kitty quickly pulls it out of her pocket, her eyes widening as she reads the message that’s flashed across the screen. Her face pales, and she looks up at the others, her voice trembling as she speaks. “It’s from her… Florence… Help.”

There’s a brief pause, maybe a second long in length, and then the room erupts into a flurry of movement. 

Chairs scrape against the floor as the team rises to their feet, already preparing for action. But Logan is the first to react, his face a mask of fury and determination. “I’m going,” he growls, already heading for the door.

“Logan, wait!” Scott steps forward, blocking Logan’s path with a firm hand on his chest. 

“Get out of my way, Summers,” He snarls, his voice filled with barely controlled rage. “I’m not waiting around while she’s in danger.”

“We can’t just rush in without a plan,” Scott insists, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Logan shoves the other mutant’s hand away, his eyes blazing with anger. “She sent an SOS, Scott! She needs help, and we’re wasting time standing here talking about it!”

The rest of the team watches the confrontation with anxious eyes, knowing that things could easily escalate. Logan’s been on edge for weeks, and the urgency of the situation—of you— has pushed him to the brink. 

“Logan,” Ororo interjects, “We understand how you feel, but we need to think this through. If this is a trap—”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a trap!” He snaps, his voice rising. “She’s part of our team! We can’t just leave her there!”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Scott tries to reason, but Logan isn’t having it.

“Then what the hell are you sayin’?” He demands, his frustration boiling over. “Why are we wasting time when we should be getting her out of there?”

There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence, and then it’s Rogue who steps forward, conflicted. “Logan… what if… what if she doesn’t want to see you?”

He freezes, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow could. He stares at Rogue, disbelief and anger warring in his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls.

Rogue swallows, her eyes filled with worry. “She left because she needed time, Logan. Because things between you two… they weren’t good. Maybe she—maybe she doesn’t want you to be the one to save her.”

Clenching his hands into fists, his body is taut with tension. “Fuck that!” he roars with a fierce, protective rage. “She’s part of our team! She sent that message to us, to the X-Men, because she needs our help. I don’t care what’s happened between us, I’m not leavin’ her there!”

The room falls silent, the weight of Logan’s words settling over everyone. They know Logan is right—she’s part of the team, and they can’t leave her behind. But they also know that the situation is more complicated than that.

Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he looks at Logan. “We’re not saying we shouldn’t go after her, Logan. We’re saying that you need to be prepared for whatever we might find when we get there. She might be in a bad place, and she might not be ready to face you.”

“I don’t care,” he says after a brief pause, his voice quieter now, but no less determined. “I’m going to get her out of there. Whether she wants to see me or not, I’m not lettin’ her go through this alone.”

Scott studies Logan for a long moment, then finally nods. “Alright. But we do this together, as a team.”

Logan nods, his jaw set in a grim line. “Fine. Let’s go.”

—

Your eyes snap open, the dim light of the room piercing your vision. You’re in a large, abandoned warehouse. Your head feels heavy, like it’s filled with cotton, and there’s a dull, throbbing pain at the base of your skull. As you try to move, you realize with a jolt of fear that you’re restrained, your arms and legs strapped tightly to a chair. Panic flares in your chest, and you struggle against the bonds, but they don’t budge.

And then you see him—Marco, standing a few feet away, watching you with a smirk that sends a chill down your spine. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, and you realize with horror that you’ve been caught, trapped in whatever twisted game he’s been playing.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, voice dripping with mock concern. “I was starting to wonder if I’d given you too much of the sedative. But it seems you’re tougher than I thought.”

You try to respond, but a gag in your mouth muffles your words, turning them into incoherent sounds. You glare at him your eyes burning with fury.

He only chuckles, clearly amused by your resistance. “Oh, don’t bother trying to speak. We wouldn’t want you calling for help, now would we? Though, I must say, I’m impressed you managed to send that little SOS before I caught on. Clever, but ultimately futile.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks you over, his expression turning cold. “You know, I’ve dealt with a lot of mutants in my time, but there’s something special about you. Something… unique.” He reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Too bad your powers won’t do you any good here. The drug I gave you should keep you nice and powerless for the foreseeable future.”

Straining against the bonds, you continue to try to break free, but he drug in your system dulls your abilities, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable. All you can do is stare at him with hatred as he continues to taunt you.

“Such fire in your eyes,” Marco murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s a shame you’ll never see the light of day again. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure your abilities are put to good use.”

He lets go of your chin, his hand trailing down to your shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Now, let’s see what we can do to make you a little more… compliant.”

Just as he reaches into his coat pocket, presumably for another syringe, a sudden, loud crash echoes through the warehouse. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass fills the air, followed by the unmistakable hum of energy blasts and the heavy thud of boots on the concrete floor.

The X-Men have arrived.

Marco’s eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger. He spins around, barking orders at the security guards scattered throughout the warehouse. “Stop them! Don’t let them get near her!”

The guards rush forward, weapons drawn, but they’re no match for your friends. The familiar sounds of battle flood your ears—Rogue’s powerful punches, Scott’s optic blasts, and Storm’s lightning crackling through the air. You struggle against your restraints again, desperate to free yourself, but it’s no use. 

Then, you catch a glimpse of Logan. He’s fighting his way toward you, his claws out, slicing through anyone who gets in his way. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes meet his, and you can see the raw determination in his gaze. He’s coming for you.

But just as he takes a step forward, something changes. He hesitates. You can’t hear what he’s thinking, but you can see the conflict on his face—the way he seems to second-guess himself, the way his steps falter. Your heart sinks as you realize he’s unsure, almost as if he's torn between wanting to save you and fearing that you don’t want him to.

In that split second of hesitation, Rogue swoops in, landing beside you with a determined look on her face. She doesn’t waste any time, using her strength to tear through the restraints that bind you. “We’ve got you, sugah,” she says, her voice steady and reassuring as she pulls the gag from your mouth. “You’re safe now.”

You nod, your throat too dry and your body too weak to speak. Your muscles scream in protest as you try to stand, but she quickly wraps an arm around you, helping you to your feet. You’re shaky, your body still reeling from the effects of the drug, but you’re free. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan still standing there, his eyes locked on you, his expression unreadable. He wanted to save you. He wanted to be the one to pull you out of that nightmare, but something held him back.

Rogue helps you toward the exit as the rest of the team continues to subdue the guards and Marco. You lean heavily on her, your legs barely able to support your weight, but you force yourself to keep moving. 

And when everyone else has back in the jet, hugging you and comforting you, you look over to Logan, who sits far away, on the opposite side, refusing to meet your gaze. 

—

Returning to the mansion feels like stepping back into a familiar, comforting embrace. You missed the soft, warm bed in your room, the quiet serenity of the gardens, and the comforting presence of your friends. It's been a few days since the whole ordeal in Florence, and the drug has finally worked its way out of your system. Your strength has returned, and physically, you feel like yourself again. The mansion, too, seems unchanged—still the safe haven you’ve always known.

But as the days pass, you begin to notice that while many things have returned to normal, some things have not. You’ve seen most of your friends, their faces lighting up when they see you, their hugs tight and full of relief. There have been quiet conversations and laughter, shared meals in the kitchen, and moments that remind you why this place is home.

Except, there’s one person you haven’t seen. Logan.

His absence is like a shadow that follows you wherever you go. You’ve felt his presence in the mansion—heard his voice in the halls, the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards—but he’s kept his distance. He hasn’t sought you out, hasn’t tried to talk to you, and that stings more than you want to admit.

You’ve tried to stay strong, to remind yourself of the resilience you found during your time away. You’ve reminded yourself over and over that you don’t need anyone else to validate your worth, that you can stand on your own. Yet the longer Logan avoids you, the harder it is to hold on to that strength. The old wounds, the ones you thought had begun to heal, start to ache again, and you can’t help but wonder if anything has really changed at all.

More often than not, you find yourself retreating to the front lawn. The sun is warm on your skin as you lie down in the grass, a book in hand. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of life inside the mansion create a peaceful background, and for a moment, you manage to lose yourself in the pages of your book.

Still, even here, in the sanctuary of the garden, the thoughts you’ve been trying to push aside keep creeping back in. The memory of Florence, of Logan’s hesitation, lingers like a bitter aftertaste. You replay the moment over and over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why he stopped, why he didn’t come for you.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the shadow that falls across your page until a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

The voice startles you, and you jerk slightly, looking up to see Logan standing above you. His expression is guarded, as if he’s not sure how you’ll react to his presence. There’s a tautness to his posture, a stiffness that you recognize all too well. 

For a moment, you just stare at him, caught off guard by the suddenness of his appearance. He’s as rugged and intimidating as ever, but there’s something different in his eyes—something a tad bit softer. You close your book, sitting up slowly as you meet his gaze. The question that’s been gnawing at you since Florence rises to the surface, and you know you can’t keep it inside any longer.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “In Florence?”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, his gaze shifting to the trees in the distance. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, thick with unspoken words. 

You just watch him, waiting for an explanation, but there’s a part of you that’s already bracing for disappointment. You’ve been here before, waiting for Logan to decide what happens next, to take the lead. And you’re tired of it. You’re tired of being the one left in the dark, of being the one who has to wait for him to be ready.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. “I… I hesitated,” he admits huskily, almost in a growl. “I wanted to save you. Hell, I was going to. But then… I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

His confession hangs in the air, and you feel a mix of emotions—surprise, confusion, and sadness. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t realized that his hesitation was rooted in something so painfully human.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?” you ask softly, searching his face for answers.

Logan finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes takes your breath away. “Because of everything that’s happened between us. Because I pushed you away. I hurt you, and I thought… maybe you’d be better off if it wasn’t me.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his reasoning. “Logan, this can’t keep being about what you think is best,” you begin. “And it’s not about who saves who. It’s about being there when it counts. You were there. You came for me.”

He doesn’t have a response to that, at least not right away. He looks down at the ground, his fists unclenching, his shoulders slumping even further. It’s like he’s carrying the weight of everything he’s done, everything he’s failed to do, and it’s crushing him. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally manages to get out. “For everything.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I know I’ve messed up,” he continues. “I know I haven’t been there for you like I should’ve. But I’m here now. And if you’ll let me… I want to try to make things right.”

You know you should be happy—this is everything you’ve wanted to hear from him for so long. But it’s also too much, too late. The doubt, the pain, it can’t just disappear with a snap of your fingers.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you admit. 

There’s pain on his face. “I get it,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not going to happen overnight. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes, if it means I can earn your trust back.”

“I need time. I need time to figure out where I stand, and where you stand with me.”

He nods slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground again. “Take all the time you need,” he says quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I appreciate that,” With a small nod, you stand up, brushing the grass off your clothes. “I need time,” you repeat, more for your own benefit than his.

“And you’ve got it,” Logan replies. “As much as you need.”

—

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. You focus on yourself, on healing the wounds that were reopened during your conversation with Logan. It feels strange, being the one who needs space, but you know it’s necessary. You find things to take your mind off him: you train more, read more, spend more time with Rogue, Kitty, or Remy. It’s nice.

But Logan… Logan doesn’t give up. He knows you need time, and he respects that. He doesn’t push, doesn’t pressure you to make a decision, but he makes it clear through his actions that he hasn’t forgotten about you, and more importantly, that he isn’t going anywhere.

It starts with the small things—things so subtle that you almost don’t notice at first. You probably wouldn’t have suspected anything if you hadn’t known the kind of person he is. He’s nothing if not persistent. He knows you better than you realize—the rift he created after Jean’s death muddling with your memory—and he uses that knowledge to quietly, almost imperceptibly, work his way back into your life.

In the mornings, you wake up to find your favorite snacks waiting for you in the kitchen, carefully placed where you’d be sure to see them. He never mentions it, never takes credit, but you know it’s him. It’s in the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye as you take a bite, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never makes a big deal out of it—just a quiet, unspoken gesture that says, I’m thinking of you.

Then there are the late-night training sessions. You go down to the Danger Room or the gym, hoping to clear your mind with a bit of solitary exercise, only to find Logan already there. At first, you’re tempted to leave, to find somewhere else to work out, but something in his demeanor stops you. He doesn’t approach you, doesn’t speak unless you initiate it. Instead, he just… exists beside you, his presence steady and reassuring, like a rock in the storm.

It’s in these moments that you begin to see a different side of Logan—one that’s patient, understanding, and perhaps a little unsure of himself. He follows your lead, mirroring your exercises or silently spotting you during weightlifting, always attentive to your needs without ever making you feel pressured or overwhelmed. He’s just there, offering his support in the quietest, most understated way possible.

And then there are the little surprises in your room—small, thoughtful gestures that you can’t help but notice. A favorite book you’d mentioned in passing suddenly appears on your nightstand, its pages pristine and waiting for you to dive into. The time-worn leather straps on your gear are suddenly replaced with new ones that fit perfectly, the stitching unmistakably done by Logan’s hand. Even your plants, the ones you’d worried would wither away while you were on a mission, seem to thrive in your absence, the soil freshly watered and the leaves turned toward the sun.

He never asks for thanks, never draws attention to what he’s doing. It’s all done quietly, behind the scenes, as if he’s afraid that if you notice too much, you might push him away. But you do notice. How could you not?

At first, you try to ignore it, telling yourself that these gestures don’t change anything, that they’re just a way for Logan to assuage his guilt. You tell yourself that he’s just doing this because he feels bad, because he wants to make up for the past, not because he actually cares. You’ve built walls around your heart for a reason, and you’re not ready to let them down just because he’s being nice.

But over time, those small gestures begin to chip away at those walls, brick by brick. You start to realize that Logan isn’t just going through the motions—he’s really paying attention, noticing the little things that make you who you are. It isn’t just about the snacks or the books or the plants—it’s about the way he remembers the details of your life, the things that matter to you, the things that make you feel seen and understood.

After a particularly long and stressful day, you return to your room exhausted, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget the world for a while. But when you walk in, you find a small bouquet of wildflowers sitting on your nightstand, the beautiful colors a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that have been swirling in your mind all day. There’s no note, no explanation—there never is—but you know who left them.

You just stand there, staring at the flowers, your heart squeezing in your chest. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet it means so much. You’d forgotten that Logan knew how much you love wildflowers—you’d mentioned it once, years ago. The way they’re resilient, thriving even in the harshest conditions, blooming where others wouldn’t. It’s as if he’s telling you that he sees that strength in you, that he admires it.

And it’s then, in the quiet of your room, surrounded by the small, thoughtful gestures that Logan has left behind, that you realize something. This isn’t just about making up for the past. Logan is showing you, in the only way he knows how, that he wants this. Wants you.

He's finally picked up the pieces of him that fell apart after Jean’s death, and he is willing to pick up the pieces of you that fell apart after his rejection.

So, one evening, months after that fateful conversation on the lawn, you find yourself standing in the common room, staring at the fireplace, lost in thought. The mansion is quiet, the rest of the team either out on a mission or asleep. It’s just you and the flickering flames, the soft crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

But when you hear footsteps behind you, heavy and deliberate, you know instantly who it is. Without turning, you can sense his presence, the way he moves with that quiet confidence, the way the air seems to shift when he is near. Logan has always had a way of grounding you, even when you don’t want him to.

He walks up beside you, stopping just short of touching you, his warmth radiating in the small space between your bodies. He doesn’t say anything at first, doesn’t ask why you’re here or try to force a conversation. He just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting patiently, giving you the time you need. It’s something you’ve come to appreciate about him in recent months—his newfound ability to just be, without pushing or demanding more than you’re ready to give.

"I’ve been thinking," you say finally, your voice soft, as you continue to gaze into the flames.

"Yeah?" Logan asks, his tone careful, as if he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.

You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You’ve been… different. Doing all these little things… I see them, you know."

Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long time, you see hope there. "I just wanted you to know that I care. That I’m sorry," he says, with so much emotion. “You were never a burden to me.”

You swallow hard. "It’s hard for me, Logan," you admit, "I’ve been hurt before, and I’m scared. Scared that if I let myself love you again, you’ll just… break me."

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "I’d never hurt you again," he says, "I’d rather cut off my own damn hand than hurt you. The past is the past, and you are my future."

That’s enough to make your walls crumble completely. You know, deep down, that Logan is telling the truth. That he’s willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let him.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you let your actions speak for you. You close the distance between you, standing on your toes as you press your lips to his in a gentle, tentative kiss. Logan freezes for a split second, as if he can’t believe this is really happening, but then he kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close, holding you as if he never wants to let go.

The kiss is slow, tender, full of everything that has been building between you for so long. It isn’t just a kiss—it’s a promise, a commitment to try again, to rebuild what has been broken. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling with his, you rest your head on his shoulder. "I’m still scared," you whisper.

"I know," Logan replies, his arms tightening around you. "But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll take this slow, darlin’. Whatever you need."

You nod. "Okay."

Logan smiles then, a real, genuine smile that makes your heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in years. It’s a smile full of relief, of gratitude, of love—a smile that tells you that he understands just how much this moment means, just how much you’re giving him by letting him back into your heart.

—

The time that follows is a slow, steady journey of rebuilding trust. Logan is true to his word—he is patient, understanding, and surprisingly tender in ways you hadn’t expected. The small gestures continue—coffee waiting for you in the morning, a gentle hand on your back during missions, quiet moments of companionship where no words are needed.

You can feel the doubts you’ve been holding onto slowly begin to fade. Each time Logan shows up for you, each time he puts your needs above his own, it chips away at the fear that has kept you guarded for so long. It’s in the way he listens when you talk, truly listens, as if every word you say matters. It’s in the way he looks at you—not with the same fury he once had, but with a steady, enduring affection that speaks of something deeper.

With Jean, he loved her because she was his soulmate, she was who the universe destined him to be with. He loved her because that’s what he thought he had to do.

With you, he has a choice. He doesn’t need to acknowledge the bond, but he chooses to. He chooses to everyday and he’ll never stop. He loves you because he wants to, not because he has to.

One evening, you find yourself sitting on the mansion’s porch watching the sunset. Logan joins you without a word, sitting close enough that your shoulders brush. 

“You’ve been quiet today,” he says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I’ve just been thinking,” you reply, leaning your head on his shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes about how far you’ve come in trusting him again.

“’Bout what?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“About us,” you say, your voice steady. “About how things have changed. How… how good they’ve been.”

Logan’s hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that feels so natural, so right. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echo, squeezing his hand. “I’m not scared anymore, Logan. Not like I was.”

He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. “You sure?”

You nod, smiling softly. “I’m sure. You’ve shown me that this bond means something to you, that you’re not going to hurt me. And… I want this. I want us.”

Logan’s face lights up with so much love, that it takes your breath away. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad, darlin’. Because I want us too. More than anything.”

—

It isn’t long before the rest of the X-Men begin to notice the change in Logan as well. At first, it’s subtle—small things like the way he looks at you during briefings, or the way he seems to be more patient, more relaxed when you’re around. But over time, it becomes impossible to ignore.

During a training session in the Danger Room, you’re paired with Logan for a simulated mission. The others watch as Logan moves with you in perfect sync, his focus not just on the mission but on you—making sure you’re safe, supporting you when needed, and trusting you completely. It’s a far cry from the Logan they had seen when he was in mourning, where his moves were rash and careless.

After the session, as you and Logan leave the Danger Room, you catch sight of Ororo and Scott exchanging a look, the kind of look that speaks volumes, full of surprise and a touch of amusement.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you approach them.

Ororo smiles warmly, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Nothing, just… noticing how good you two are together.”

Scott nods in agreement, his expression softening as he glances at Logan. “Yeah, it’s… different, finally seeing him like this. In a good way.”

Logan shrugs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Just that it’s nice to see you happy, Logan,” Ororo says gently. “Really happy.”

Logan looks at you then, his smile growing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah. It is.”

More members of the team begin to notice the change in Logan as time goes on. Rogue, who has always had a soft spot for him, comments on how he seems more at ease, less burdened by the weight of his past. Hank, ever the observer, points out how Logan’s demeanor has shifted—less brooding, more open. Even Charles, who has seen Logan through his darkest times, pulls you aside one day to express his approval.

“I must say,” Charles says, his tone warm and approving, “I haven’t seen Logan like this in a very long time. Whatever you two have managed to sort out, it’s working.”

And it is. Slowly but surely, the wounds that had once held you back have healed. The doubts that had kept you from fully embracing your relationship with Logan have faded, replaced by a deep, abiding love. It isn’t just the little gestures anymore—it’s the way Logan makes you feel seen, heard, and cherished in a way that no one else ever has.

—

“I never thought we’d get here,” you admit one night whilst looking up at the stars.

Logan looks at you, his expression tender. “Neither did I,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “But I’m damn glad we did.”

You smile, leaning into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I love you, Logan. And I trust you. Completely.”

His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold onto the moment, to hold onto you. “I love you too, darlin’. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.”

You know what he’s trying to say. So without thinking, you reach up and cup his face, drawing him closer until your lips are just a breath away from his. “Show me,” you whisper, your voice low and filled with desire.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. He closes the small gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he’s savoring the feel of you. 

You can feel the heat between you building, the kiss growing more fervent as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, then into his hair. Brown. 

His hands slide up your back, one hand tangling in your hair as he angles your head, deepening the kiss further until you’re both breathless.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting against each other’s, you’re both panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he holds you close.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs. “I never thought I’d get my happy ending, but here you are… and I’m never lettin’ you go.”

You smile, feeling the last remnants of pain melt away, replaced by a certainty that this is where you’re meant to be. “And I’m never leaving,” you whisper back, sealing your words with another kiss that quickly reignites the fire between you.

This kiss is hungrier, more urgent, as if you both need to make up for lost time. Logan’s hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine, his touch igniting a fire in your core.

That night, you lose yourself in him, in the way he tastes, in the way he makes love to you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. Because this time, you’re not just in love—you’re in love with a man who loves you back, fully and completely. 

And that makes all the difference.

----

a/n: i love you if you made it this far. please check out my new series The Feeling's Mutual

[aeyumicore]

your fragrance

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: rafayel x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 10.4k (how?????)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, switch!raf (like he’s both sub and dom in this, if you don’t like that then this may not be for you), knee humping, standing sex, against the wall sex, sorta rough sex, references to rafayel’s lore (no more than what’s talked about the actual memory), dry humping, slightly aphrodisiac sex, dub con if you squint really really really hard, ejaculating in pants, panty ripping, pheromone kink, lots of teasing (calling raf a cat/kitty), cum play? kinda, nipple teasing, slight use of y/n, reader is mc, second person pov

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: the raf fic is here!! based off the 5* rafayel memory ‘your fragrance.’ the build up is realllllllly long on this one since i wanted to stay as true to the memory as possible. you can def just skip to the smut if you’d like!

i struggled to write raf a lot but enjoyed it so much like he’s so fun to write. i’m def a sub girly so i love writing dom partners, thankfully i hc raf as a switch. if you do not like fics where raf is a switch, then this may not be for you! 

i can’t believe this fic ended up being 10k words too, i was thinking it would be a quick lil smut lol. i don’t even know how my zayne fic ended up being my shortest fic. enjoy my loves!

also this is dedicated to my bestie who is actually rafayel’s number one slut. follow her on x @/myusuchaa for so much good raf and other purple haired boy content. she is the master of rafayel lore, truly his wifey. a queen to us all.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

You let out an exasperated sigh as your foot taps irritably against the protective painting tarp Rafayel always has laid out on the ground of his makeshift art studio, stray paint brushes strewn about. Impatiently, you waited for Rafayel to finish changing on the couch behind you, careful not to peek.  

Somehow, being Rafayel’s bodyguard also made you his keeper. And Rafayel was not easy to keep. Always dragging you with him on odd trips even if you had work, pestering you at all hours of the day and night, disappearing and unable to be contacted for days on end. This particular time it was the latter; Rafayel had gone mia three days before his important collab launch party with a high end perfume brand. Now, on the night of the party, Rafayel was still unable to be reached. 

Thomas had called you, in a sheer panic, as he always did when he needed help wrangling Rafayel. He knew you were the only one in this world that could level with Rafayel. And he’d never told you this before, but you were also the only one who could bend Rafayel’s unbreakable stubbornness; a perfect match for the purple-haired obstinate artist. And thus, Thomas had personally designated you as Rafayel’s keeper.  

And so, you found yourself at Rafayel’s massive house, in the most extravagant evening dress you owned, hauling him off to his own damn party. 

His annoyingly alluring voice cuts into the silence of the studio, "You can turn around now and give me a hand with something else.” You snap around to be met with the sight of Rafayel, irritatingly and devilishly handsome in his expensive white dress shirt and designer cardigan, leaning lazily against the sofa with the tie you’d previously used to tie his hands with, woven in between his fingers. He grins and holds it up to you expectantly, "Put this on for me.”

"Don’t you have hands?” You snap, but your feet have a mind of their own, and you’re already approaching him on the sofa.  

"My hands are numb from being tied up by you for so long.” You roll your eyes, knowing he’s being dramatic. While he waits deceptively patiently for you to give in, he leisurely takes a wristwatch out of his pocket to put on, as if he’s got all the time in the world. "Clock’s ticking, keep it up and we’ll be late at this rate.”

You gape at him. The sheer audacity of this man, as if you’re the reason he’d be late. He only smirks at you, and it just infuriates you all the more. How he could so easily annoy the hell out of you and look so beautiful doing it. But you keep your mouth shut, and exasperatedly lean down to put on his tie for him, doing your best not to strangle him with it. It feels strangely intimate, and the brief reprieve finally gives you an opportunity to speak to him. 

"Thomas said you have to be present for all parts of the event. There will be reporters at the entrance taking photos, and…” you rattle off, before you realize Rafayel is being uncharacteristically silent, "Are you even listening?” 

You look up from the tie in your fingers to glance at Rafayel’s face. He doesn’t look the least bit interested in your words, instead his eyes are fixated on your wrist. You tap his chest to get his attention but he remains still, eyes still on your hands atop his collarbones. You curiously wave your hand in front of his face, hoping to snap him out of his trance. Fortunately you do, but unfortunately Rafayel grabs your wrist suddenly and urgently. 

“...what’s the matter?” The bewilderment is unmistakable in your voice. You’re used to Rafayel’s erratic and quirky behavior, but this was alarming, even to you.

Finally his gaze breaks away from your wrist and he speaks, "I heard you talking about the event…” but just as quickly as you’d diverted his attention, it's back on your wrist. His voice is unusually clouded, deeper than usual. His eyes are back on your wrist that’s enclosed in his fingers, as a strange expression crosses his face. It almost feels as if he’s trying to hold himself back, but you’re unsure from what. 

"Your hand…” he trails off, inexplicable emotions caught in his hoarse voice. He suddenly tugs you towards him by your wrist, and you stumble forward.  

"Rafayel?! Wait!” As you fall forward, your feet run out of space and hit the bottom of the sofa, causing you to tumble on top of him. He catches you easily, sitting you on top of his lap while he brings your captured wrist right up to the side of his face. The awkward position forces you to settle your legs on either side of his thighs, straddling him against the designer couch. The half knotted tie comes undone and you’re left clutching the smooth material in your hands. If it weren’t for the compromising position you found you and Rafayel in, you'd be slightly disappointed at seeing your hard work unraveled.  

The grip on your wrist tightens impossibly, almost possessively, "Hold still.” His command is not totally unusual; Rafayel is always demanding things of you, his precious bodyguard. But his voice comes out in a strange and sensual husk, leaving you confused, nervous, and weirdly burning. His silky smooth dress pants shuffle under you, and you’re reminded of the expensive clothes you’re pressed up against, likely worth more than a month of your hunter salary.  

"Your suit! It’ll get wrinkled.” 

"I don’t care…let me smell this…” he trails off, his voice sounding impossibly far away. You can feel the tickle of his inhale against your wrist and it makes you shiver, goosebumps forming under his touch. 

"What is that?” He asks, mostly to himself, lost in his own little world, "It smells good. And smells familiar…” 

It wasn’t at all uncommon for Rafayel to be mysterious and even enigmatic, but this was a whole other level of confusion for you, "What…what’s wrong? Did something happen?”  

His behavior is starting to worry you. He’s unusually breathless, and you can see a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. The last thing you needed was him getting sick! You could already hear his needy whines in your head at the mere thought. Demanding to be taken care of and waited on. You almost want to smile at the thought of it; you act constantly annoyed with Rafayel but deep down you know you can’t live without his antics. 

 "No, I'm fine. Very well, in fact,” but despite his words, Rafayel sounds anything but. His voice, normally a bright and charming, albeit annoying, timbre, is now a hoarse and needy rasp. His ticklish touch on the inside of your wrist reminds you of where you got the perfume that he was so intoxicated by. 

"Come to think of it...I tried an unreleased fragrance in the back office of the exhibition hall. It was made with special ingredients,” you scratch your chin with your free hand, trying your best to recall the name of it.  

"Perfume? You spritzed the perfume sample on your wrist?” 

You glance at him, concern and confusion written all over your face. Isn’t that what you do with perfumes? Rafayel shifts his gaze to your eyes, but his breath remains on the inside of your wrist. It’s deafeningly silent and you realize the scent of the perfume gradually grows stronger as your body temperature rises at the proximity of your body to Rafayel’s. You’re suddenly reminded of the fact that you’re sitting on his lap, and his face is so very close to your own.  

He’s still lost in his own thoughts as he murmurs, more to himself than you, "It’s a bit bitter like fermented plants…but very fragrant.” 

"It could be a mixture of artificial chemical stuff. Now, unhand me please,” you’re desperate to detach yourself from him, unsure if you can trust your body when it’s pressed so readily upon Rafayel’s own hard and sturdy stature. 

"No.”  

Your jaw drops at his audacity. But before you can berate him, he’s reaching his free hand to undo the buttons of his collar, as if the clothing is restricting him and making it hard to breath. His purple eyes are glazed over, and a beautiful faint blush paints his cheeks. His exposed collar and chest have you biting back your words, completely losing your train of thought. You squirm at the sight, but Rafayel’s hand on your thighs grip you in place, not letting you move a single inch. 

"I could’ve sworn I've smelled this fragrance before,” he presses your hand against his cheek as he continues to slowly inhale the scent by the mouthful. It wouldn’t be completely out of the question, the unreleased scent had been developed for his artworks for the collaboration, so it’s very likely he could’ve sampled it during production. 

"We can worry about it later. Let’s go. Everyone is waiting” you urge, feeling yourself blush as he shifts slightly under you, brushing against your sensitive inner thighs. You pull your hand away from his cheek, only for Rafayel to yank it back, like a child unwilling to share his favorite toy.

"Let me smell it again,” his demand is meant to be gentle, but comes out rough and urgent. You sigh, letting him melt into your hand again. It’s almost endearing; you quite like being so intimate with Rafayel. 

"You know, for someone who hates cats, you sure are acting like one,” you tease, "A kitty that found some catnip to be exact. 

The mere mention of cats is usually enough to set Rafayel off, pouting like a little baby that’s been teased. But instead, he just distractedly responds, "So then are you a cat? I am not a cat. And also, you’re not allowed to say that. I just couldn’t resist…” 

You roll your eyes but can’t help but grin at his adorableness, tempted to just give in to his touch, savoring every moment you possibly can before the bubble bursts.

 "What is this weird perfume…” he’s talking to himself again, inspecting your hand carefully. His jumbled thoughts have you worried for him again. Although Rafayel did often have energy that bordered on adhd, this was much more intense than that. 

"Are you alright?” You repeat, softly. He doesn’t respond, but leans his cheek into your touch, his lips turning so they’re practically kissing your palm. Like this, he inhales the scent with his parted lips. His adam's apple bobs as he gulps, almost feverishly. His hand reaches to further loosen his collared shirt, pulling it open to let the cool air soothe his burning skin.  

"It must be an allergic reaction. This isn’t perfume. How dare they use such underhanded methods to trap me…” his words both confuse and scare you. You’re growing increasingly worried about his flushed and sweaty complexion, his collarbones shining under the faint glow of the city lights through the massive windows. His words fill you with a terror you do not understand.

Rafayel holds the area between the bridge of his nose and his forehead, like his head is pounding, before returning to grip the collar of his dress shirt. His hand that holds yours is shaky as he rocks slowly underneath you, inhaling as much of the perfume as he can. His lap brushes against yours and your brain short circuits at the feeling of him pressed against you. 

"H-huh?” Is the only thing you’re capable of getting out.

"Who gave you the perfume? Who sent it?” His questions are increasingly alarming you, but you do your best to keep calm. You can tell he’s nervous as well, and the sight makes your chest squeeze. Wanting to comfort him, you cup his cheek in your palm and he leans into the touch so contentedly and groaning in satisfaction. Truly like a cat.

You blushed despite yourself. It was so difficult to not be aroused in this compromising position. You’d long since had a crush on Rafayel, always craving his silly antics and theatrics. Missing him intensely when he’d disappear for days at a time. 

"No one. Um, why do you look like you’re drunk?” You try to deflect from the burning between your thighs, hoping he can’t notice how hot and bothered you’ve become. 

"I’m not drunk. I just don’t like the scent,” he pouts, but nuzzles your hand against his cheek like a cat getting cheek scratches. He turns his lips back into your palm, opening his mouth until you can feel his teeth graze your skin. He groans as he continues to inhale the scent, making you bite back a moan of your own at his gentle nibbles. 

"Rafayel…you…” but you find yourself at a loss for words as he continues to breathe in your scent like it's the oxygen he needs to survive. Your own breaths start to come out in shallow pants, and you squirm in his lap. Rafayel moans softly into your palm, biting down gently to get you to stop. 

"Are you trying to run away again?” He asks, almost painfully, his eyes piercing into yours, so intense and searching. The glassy look in them reminds you of how much you’re worried about his current well being.

"Rafayel, you don’t look so good. Shouldnt you go to the doctor?” You use the hand Rafayel isn’t gripping to take his face between your free fingers and inspect his beautiful and flushed features.  

Rafayel’s breath hitches at your touch, goose flesh littering the skin where your touch singes, "I’m not going anywhere.” And though he doesn’t say it, you can feel what’s left unsaid.

And neither are you.

But he continues, dazed, "You’re gonna lock me up again…you’re with them. I just know it. Don’t think I'm unaware of what you’re about to do.” He has both your wrists in his hands now, gripping them on either side of his neck. "Y/n, I won’t fall for it again. Not this time.”

Though his words scare the shit out of you, you’re unable to concentrate on anything but his eyes that are trained on your neck, where your pulse thrums erratically in anticipation. You’re suddenly hyper aware that your heart is beating so fast you can hardly hear him anymore, despite his face being mere inches from yours. Your breath is close enough to mingle with his. It seems he notices too, because he inhales deeply and throws his head back, gasping.

It's then you realize it's not just the scent of the perfume that's setting Rafayel off, but your own scent mingled with it. 

"Rafayel, snap out of it!” You beg. But Rafayel can’t seem to hear you as his cold hand grips the side of your neck, where you’d also dabbed the perfume along. Your breath catches in your throat at the icy touch, unsure of what to do. 

Rafayel senses your hesitation, "Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” His voice is a throaty groan, and you’re honestly unsure if that’s even what you want. His body is almost on top of yours now, his breath deafening in your ear. And all you can think about is how you’d wish he’d press into you harder, until you’re suffocating, only able to breathe him in. 

But you go with your better judgment, pushing him gently, putting some distance between the two of you. He glances up from your neck, eyes unfocused, and says nothing. He finds himself staring at your lips that are parted slightly to let out the short pants of breath you’re wheezing out. He leans in slowly so he can breathe in as much of you as he possibly can, just nearly closing the proximity between your lips.  

Suddenly, your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your little bubble with Rafayel, "Its Thomas! He probably wants to remind us of the time. Let's head out!” You shove your phone until Rafayel’s hands, forcing him to take Thomas’s call for you.  

While he’s distracted, you slip out from beneath him and bolt to the nearest bathroom. As you move your legs, you’re made acutely aware of the slick that has formed in your panties. But you focus first on furiously washing off the scent from your wrists and neck. As you scrub, you glance up at the mirror in front of you. You swear at the site of yourself, unbelievably disheveled and undeniably aroused.  

As you continue to adamantly scrub, you can faintly make out Rafayel on the phone with Thomas, just outside. 

"No, we’re not going to make it. I need to take care of something urgent. Don’t call again please, bye.” When you turn off the faucet, you go to lean against the wall adjacent to the sink, trying to steady yourself and collect your thoughts. You turn around and gently rest your forehead against the wall, sighing into the cool surface against your burning skin, willing the arousal between your legs to go away. You try to remind yourself of poor Thomas all alone at the exhibition right now. Your guilt is short lived as you hear the patter of Rafayel’s feet approaching the bathroom. 

"Where are you going?” Rafayel’s words are right behind you, and his hand presses against the bathroom wall that your forehead rests on. You whip around and find yourself trapped between Rafayel’s hard body and the solid wall behind you. You back up instinctively, but find yourself hitting the cold surface before you even take a single step back. 

"Gotcha,” Rafayel smirks softly, and you tremble at his proximity to you. His other hand grips a towel bar to your left, while his other hand leans against the wall to your right, so you’re utterly trapped against him. He’s so close, close enough that you can feel his rapid breaths fanning across your parted lips. As Rafayel’s eyes roam all over you, from your lips to your heaving chest, you feel very much like a lamb caught in a lion’s den. Except you don’t want to escape. 

"Rafayel…” you murmur using both your hands to gently push against his chest, unintentionally brushing against the exposed skin below his collar, under his unbuttoned dress shirt. You’re hoping he’ll have mercy and release you, afraid that the palpable sexual tension in the air would cloud your, and Rafayel’s, judgment.  

He shivers as your wet hands brush against his chest, knuckles turning white as they grip the towel bar next to you. His breath comes out in shallow pants, chest heaving up and down, with a light sheen of sweat painting his pale skin. The sight snaps you out of the moment, reminding you that Rafayel seems like he might have a fever. 

"Let’s go to the hospital...I’m worried about you,” your hands shift to grip his open shirt, bringing the fabric together to cover him up. Rafayel’s hand releases the towel bar to take both of your hands into his, trapping them against his chest.  

"What will it take for you to believe that I'm okay? I’m exactly where I want to be,” his gruff voice invades all your senses while his eyes burn holes through your own. He presses himself further into you, until his forearm is resting against the wall above you, only your joined hands pressed against his chest separating the two of you. He leans down, his face now impossibly close to yours, and for a second you find yourself lost in his purple and blue cosmic eyes.  

You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself to reality, and remind yourself that Rafayel’s actions are only fueled by the strange effects the perfume has on him. He’s not in his right mind, and you need to think for him.  

You whisper, craning your neck up to look into his eyes, "You’re not yourself right now. Let me help you, I can take you to the doctor.”  

Rafayel leans down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in, the smell of the perfume, still potent despite the scrubbing, mixed with your pheromones invading his very being. Slowly, almost like it pains him to do so, he lifts his head away from you. He releases your hands and uses that same hand that gripped them to lift your chin towards him. 

"Do you know the only thing you could do that would help me?” His hooded eyes lock yours in. His voice is the soft purr you know and love, slightly tinged with a rough and carnal desire that shakes you to your core. 

"Name it. I’ll do it for you.“ part of you knows that Rafayel isn’t going to ask you for anything regarding his health but you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. You’re stepping into very dangerous territory and you can’t hold yourself back. 

"Kiss me,” his voice is low, but the assertive demand in it is undeniable. His command makes you shift in between his legs against the wall, becoming hyper aware of how deeply your bodies pressed into each other. You know you want to, you’ve wanted to for some time now. But you can’t shake the idea that the strange effects of the perfume are clouding Rafayel’s judgment and inhibitions. 

"R-Rafayel…” you stutter hesitantly. Trembling ever so slightly, you lean in to peck his flushed cheek. You watch, slightly amused, as Rafayel’s ears get even pinker.

"Why must you always make me beg?” He whines. His lips stick out in a signature Rafayel pout, one you’ve grown to absolutely adore, no matter how annoying it can be.  

You can’t help but laugh breathlessly, your chin still in his grip, "I don’t make you. You just love to beg.“ 

With your face still in his grip, he sighs dramatically, "Then I won’t beg anymore.” He brings his face to yours and captures your lips with his. He swallows your surprised squeak, which is quickly replaced by a throaty moan of longing and anticipation. Rafayel absolutely devours your noises, his lips so commanding against your own, bending them to his every will. They’re so soft, and you can’t help but think they fit so perfectly slotted against your own.  

Though you can taste the urgency on him, Rafayel takes his time with you, engraving the taste and feel of you in his mind forever. He takes it so tortuously and deliciously slow that you find yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, begging him to take you fully.  

You can just feel his maddening smirk against your lips. Instead of indulging you, Rafayel laces his practiced fingers under your dress’s skirt and onto your thighs. Only when you yelp in surprise does he finally slip his tongue into your mouth, always intentionally doing things to take you by surprise.  

The new sensation of your tongues on each other seems to have Rafayel equally feral, because you feel the unmistakable press of his erection into your stomach. Needing to do something with your hands, you trace the outlines of his chest muscles, enjoying the feel of them finally against your fingers. 

Rafayel’s hands venture to your back, expertly undoing the zipper of your dress, and then your bra. Gasping into his open mouth as his fingers return to the pebbling skin of your nipples. He gives a harsh flick to each, and your knees buckle against the sensitivity. You sink down against the wall, lips still attached to his for dear life, but Rafayel shifts so that he catches you with his knee instead. The mid length black dress your wore rides up and serves as a sheer layer of protection between your dampening panties and his knee. The friction of his leg against your crotch is unbearable, forcing you to throw your head back in pleasure. 

Your reaction only serves to spur Rafayel further, as he begins to knead his knee into your cunt slowly. Your body turns to mush at the ecstasy of his knee against your most sensitive region, but Rafayel holds you steady with his hands gripping you from the swell of your underboobs.  

Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he inhales again. Unbeknownst to you, he practically comes undone at the smell of you alone, "You say I'm always whining but look at you.”  

You whimper at his teasing words right against your ear, clutching the back of his neck for support as he continues to hump his knee into you.  

Suddenly, Rafayel stops, letting his knee still against your increasingly damp cunt. You can’t help but whine as you look up into his amused eyes. There’s mischief in them as he grins, "I’m getting tired. You’re going to have to do the work.” 

Despite your lust clouded brain, you can still think coherently enough to see through his brattiness. You narrow your eyes at him, "You’re tired? Let me take you to the hospital. I knew you weren’t feeling well.” You duck down to escape his arms that cage you in, but he only lowers them so that they now trap you at the waist instead. 

"You’re so mean to me Y/N,” he huffs, "Can’t you tell how vulnerable I am right now?” 

"Because of the perfume? Why does it affect you so much?” You murmur, squeezing his cheeks slightly.  

From Rafayel’s expression you can tell he’s unwilling to share too much information. And as annoying as that was, you trusted him wholeheartedly and knew better than to prod him too much. You would take what you could get. 

He rests his head on your shoulder, unwilling to meet your stare. Dusting your hair behind your ear, he sniffs you again, practically consuming the scent. You shiver at the slight breeze he creates at your exposed neck, "I-It’s not just the perfume. I’ve dealt with this scent before, and I've developed a tolerance to it.” 

You hold his neck against your shoulder, and gently knead his damp skin, letting him inhale the smell like his life depended on it, "Then why?”

Rafayel sighs, releasing the wall behind you but instead trapping you by wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing your bodies together. You sigh in satisfaction as his erection presses warmly against you again, your pussy craving his touch

Finally he speaks, but his voice is low and almost feels dangerous, "The marine plant the perfume is extracted from…on its own no longer does anything to me. But when it’s exposed to another scent that I cannot control myself around…the reaction it causes can be extremely potent.” 

The sensations of his body pressed tightly against yours makes your brain practically non-functional, so you’re not following his train of thought, so you ask dumbly, "Like the air?”

You can practically hear Rafayel rolling his eyes in his voice, "I need air to survive but do you think I can’t control myself at all times of the day?”

"Okay well I'm confused! And to be fair you do act like an idiot at all times of the day so how am I supposed to know?!” He ignores you, taking another lungfull of the scent on your skin into his body. This time, he growls through an intense shiver, his grip on your body tightening against him. As if the very smell of your skin drove him into a lust filled craze. 

And that’s when you realize what he meant.

"O-oh,” is all you can squeak out. Strangely enough, the idea that your scent is what is driving Rafayel to madness makes you leak further into the puddle that had formed in your panties. 

Rafayel groans again, one his fists releasing your body to gently pound into the wall behind you, "I-I can smell the arousal in your scent. It’s driving me insane.” 

Knowing he can smell the dampness between your thighs is both utterly embarrassing and completely erotic. Your heart lurches, wanting nothing but to take his discomfort away and make him feel good, "H-how can I help you?” 

Reluctantly, he removes his chin off your shoulder and turns to face you, gripping your biceps in his hands, almost to the point of pain, "Do you mean that? Because you can’t take it back.”

Shivering at the implications of his words, you nod slowly but more sure than ever, "Yes. Let me help you. I want to help you” 

"I-If you want to help me…” Rafayel’s voice is doubtful, like he’s scared you will deny him before he’s even gotten the chance to put his request out. Between your thighs, you feel his knee creeping its way back against your leaking cunt. The shock to your recovering clit causes you to clutch Rafayel’s firm shoulders and throw your head back with a breathy moan. Rafayel feeds off your pleasure, imagining what you would sound like when you were actually stuffed to the brim with him. 

"I want...I need to see you cum all over me,” Rafayels throaty plea makes you blush profusely. You almost want to smack him across the head for his shameless words, but the pout on his face reminds you that he’s absolutely serious that this will help him. That seeing you come undone for him will help take the edge off of the effect the perfume is having on him. 

"O-okay.” You gulp, nodding. The relief on his face is mixed with unbridled excitement that makes you squirm in anticipation of what's to come. Your feet shift, which causes you to grind down on his knee once more. Unable to withstand the unintentional teasing any further, you languidly moan and grind your leaking cunt against him to relieve some of the pulsing tension in your gut. 

Your broken groans grace Rafayel’s ears and you can actually see his eyes light up with pleasure while his ears burn an even deeper red. His breath is shaky as he dips his head back down, inhaling deeply and dusting a kiss to the pulse point on your neck. You shiver as he gently uses his tongue against your neck to soothe his raging desire. 

His reaction intrigues you, and you can’t help but want to tease him further, just a little. Peering at him through your eyelashes, you tip toe upwards so you can fan your bated breath across his face, letting him bask in your scent. Your tongue reaches out to gently swipe across his bottom lip, all the while you continue to pleasure yourself using his thigh. 

Rafayel is unable to contain his excitement as he watches you use his body for your own gratification. He pants desperately into the crook of your neck, high off your pheromones invading all his senses. Through both your whiny moans, you reach out to graze his cock through his dress pants. 

Rafayel hisses at the slightest contact, and his reaction ignites your confidence, provoking you further. You grip him through the silky smooth trousers, holding his throbbing erection in your hand, using your thumb to tease where you think his slit would be.

"Fuck–hah, be gentle please baby. M’sensitive,” he whines through gritted teeth. Your cunt clenches at his words, so teasing yet so endearing from Rafayel’s lips. You can feel the coil in your gut tightening as you continue to hump into Rafayel’s knee, using his body to chase your own high. Your black dress has ridden up, and now the only barrier between Rafayel’s knee and your sopping pussy is your equally soaked panties. You bite your lip and pray that Rafayel doesn’t notice the moist streaks that are starting to appear on his expensive pants. 

Through your hooded eyes, you can see Rafayel is enjoying this just as much, if not more, than you are. His eyes are thick with lust, and you can practically see the pulse of his neck pound against his delicate skin. He desperately gasps for air, or maybe he’s trying to breathe more of you in, as you near your earth shattering climax. 

"Touch yourself for me,” you purr at him, purposely jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. He obliges obediently, one hand quickly undoing his belt and slipping in to grab his unbelievably hard cock into his hands. 

As you watch his face contort in pleasure, you’re filled with the need to grab him into your own hands. "Can I touch you too?” You ask innocently with wide eyes, imagining just how smooth he will feel in your bare hands. 

Rafayel whines, still obediently pumping his cock in his hands, "Yes please, I need you to touch me.” At his plea, you let your hands find their way to his hands, still diligently pumping up and down. You wrap your smaller hand over his and mimic his motions. You gasp at the sheer size of him, your fingers just barely able to wrap around his girth. You can feel his veins throbbing against your fingers, begging you to continue further. The sheer amount of pre cum that already coats his fingers, and now yours, makes you wonder how delicious his spend would feel inside you instead.

"You’re so dam beautiful when you – fuck – use me like this. Dreamed about this for s’long,” he bites out, his hands finding your nipples once more. His long artist fingers tease you expertly, taking the peaks and rolling them gently.

His skilled hands and filthy words accelerate the intensity of your body’s peak quickly approaching you. His entire body is flushed and burns under the pumps of your fist, likely exacerbated by the effects of your scent. You respond to his endless stream of gasps and swears with breathless mewls of your own, whispering sweet words into his ear. 

"Let me cum Rafayel, please. Want to cum for you s’bad,” you beg against him, despite him having given you all the power already, knowing the begging will drive him insane. 

Rafayel drives his knee further into you as your core grinds into him like second nature. Your wrists vigorously pump his leaking cock, the thick heat of it feeling absolutely unreal against your palm. With your free hand you thread your fingers through his long soft hair, gripping gently. With a strangled groan Rafayel sinks his teeth into your neck, sucking at your pulse point as if he’s trying to devour your scent. Reluctantly he pulls away, throwing his head back in pure pleasure once more. 

 "F-fuck you drive me fucking crazy Y/N,” he pants, his thick length throbbing at your vigorous pumps along his shaft, almost as if his heart was beating inside it. The endless precum that falls from the tip coats your fingers, making a wet mess in Rafayel’s pants and your palm.

 He groans in disappointment when you release his erection, but his eyes are trained on your every movement. Overcome with your aching need for the gorgeous purple haired man before you, you bring your soaked fingers to your lips and slowly insert your index and middle finger into your parted mouth. You make a show of letting your tongue lap up his essence from your digits, never letting your eyes break contact with his as you devour him off your fingers. You can’t help but let out a muffled moan at the taste of him, sweeter than you could have ever fathomed, so deliciously Rafayel.

He nearly hyperventilates as you peer at him through the tears of pleasure that had beaded onto your eyelashes. "Look at you, hah, like a fucking masterpiece,” his thumb caresses your lip as his breathless praises make you squirm against his knee. The pre cum on his thumb swipes onto your tongue, and you itch to taste him again. You shift yourself so that you can take his thumb into your mouth, using your tongue to swipe all the slick off his slender fingers. 

Rafayel shivers at your touch, his mind a mush of lust and adoration as he watches your eyes roll back at the taste of his cum on your lips.  

"You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmurs, drunk off your pheromones invading his senses. You only smile at him and tip toe up to press your lips against his, wanting him to be able to taste himself on your tongue. He groans into your mouth at the odd sensation of being able to taste both himself and you all at once. Both his hands come up to thread in your hair, pulling you as deeply into him as he possibly can. You can feel his exposed chest against your own, his heart pounding rapidly against the swell of your dress covered breasts. The proximity lets him control every twitch of his quads against your cunt and you cry into his mouth at the stimulation. 

As you continue to fuck yourself onto his knee, you find yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, nearly blinded by the ecstasy of his leg wedged between your thighs and the salty taste of his slick on your tongue, "Raf-Rafayel, m’gonna cum.” 

Despite his furious blush, he smirks at you, as devilishly handsome as ever, "You gonna cum on my knee baby?” 

If it weren’t for the cloud of pleasure fogging your every nerve you’d surely have a snarky retort to throw back at him, but the need to have him is so great you can’t think of a single thing. Without even needing to enter you, Rafayel has rendered you utterly fucked out.  

So instead, you nod eagerly as your grinding against his knee becomes increasingly sloppy and erratic. Rafayel, entranced by the utterly fucked bliss in your eyes can’t stop himself from falling deeper into the abyss that is you: your voice, your eyes, your smell, your soul. He finds himself realizing that, though he’s seen millions of dollars in once in a lifetime artworks, even creating some of his own to add to this infinite world, the entire universe pales in comparison to you. The thick haze of emotions overwhelms him and he finds himself begging, once again. 

"P-please cum for me, my love. I need to see it,” Rafayel begs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. The sensation makes your entire body shiver, causing your cunt to quiver further into his soaked knee. You’re not used to his voice, normally teasing and bratty voice, being this needy and adoring. It’s all enough to shove you viciously into your orgasm. You cling onto Rafayel as you release all over your panties and his leg, still languidly grinding into you.  

You can’t stop the screams that rip out of your mouth, pure ecstasy and satisfaction laced into your very breath. Rafayel holds you tightly against him, cooing into your ear, talking you through the waves of pleasure, as the excruciating ecstasy makes tears spill out of your eyes and onto your cheeks. 

Rafayel eyes widen in pure awe as he watches every shiver and twitch of your orgasm against his leg. He throws his head back, swearing as your scent becomes exponentially more potent. The smell of your spend is thick in the air, mixing with your pheromones and the perfume until it overloads every nerve in his body. The throbbing in his cock grows unbearable even with nothing touching it, physically twitching uncontrollably as he explodes inside his slacks. 

You cry out one last time when your thighs collapse from the intense climax, and Rafayel catches you by your waist, holding you steady against him and the wall behind you. The movements against your cunt slow as you ride out the final waves of your orgasm. With nothing separating his thigh from your cunt but your soaked panties, Rafayel can swear he feels your clit throb against him, the aftershocks of your climax wracking your body, just as the effects of his own orgasm sear through his. 

You’re a panting and sobbing mess against his flushed chest. Your legs are completely useless, supported solely by Rafayel’s strong and safe arms around your waist and his knee still wedged between you. He rests his face in the mess of your hair, breathing you into him. Unbeknownst to you, Rafayel is reeling from his own climax as he holds you protectively against him, almost for dear life.

Through the comfortable silence that has blanketed the bathroom, Rafayel’s voice vibrates on the top of your head, "You smell so fucking good baby.” 

You smile contentedly against Rafayel’s chest, your hands reaching up to smooth his curly hair away from his sweaty forehead, "Do you feel better?”

He smiles against your head, taking another deep breath of you into him. His voice is thick with satisfaction, but also unrelenting hunger, "Yes, but…” you wait for him to finish his thought, but there’s only silence.

"Rafayel?”

His reply comes out strangled and heavy against the top of your head, "I-I need more. I need you.”

You shift so you can look up at him. He doesn’t speak, but his hooded eyes tell you everything he’s thinking. Maybe it’s the post orgasm haze, but you find yourself being unable to deny Rafayel, wanting nothing more than to please him.

Getting on your toes so you can reach him, you let your bottom lip brush against his, relishing in the way his breath catches in his throat, and whisper, "Take me Rafayel.” 

 "Sh-shit,” he mumbles and presses his lips the rest of the short distance into yours. He tears into you with such torrid intensity that your knees buckle. As his palms hold your face in place, you cling onto his shoulders for support, the feeling of him enveloping you so overwhelmingly addicting. As your legs give out under the excruciating anticipation of what’s to come, you hook your knee into Rafayel’s waist. He grips your thigh, lifting it to hook around his back. His hand kneads into your bare skin as he reluctantly tears his lips from yours. 

"You can’t stand anymore?” His cocky grin contrasts the deep blush on his cheeks. Before you can snap back at him, he hoists you up against the wall. Instinctively you yelp, wrapping your other leg against his waist as he holds you securely against the cool tiles behind you and his solid abdomen.  

His lips simultaneously find yours again, locking deeply with an unrelenting passion that quite literally takes your breath away. As your breath becomes his, your thighs clench at the crushing intensity of his lips, wanting him deeper, harder. His tongue explores every inch of you, and you whimper into him at the pure need that was manifesting in your gut once more. 

Feverishly, Rafayel breaks away, like he cannot possibly wait another second. He doesn’t even break a sweat as he balances your squirming body with one hand, his other hand reaching down to pull off his belt that he’d undone earlier.

You want to ask Rafayel if it’d be more comfortable to go to his bed or even the studio sofa, but you’re rendered speechless as he pulls his cock out of his slacks. You’d felt it in your hands earlier, but seeing it in all its glory under the light was a whole different story. 

Rafayel definitely took pride in how he presented himself, his hair, his clothes; everything about him was pristine and curated just how he wanted others to see him. And his manhood was no different. He stood absolutely proud against his naval, his impressive length erect enough to touch just below his belly button, curving straight up. He’s unsurprisinglt well groomed, but with a dusting of pubic hair along his happy trail to his glorious cock. Like Rafayel himself, it was nothing short of art.

But then you noticed that he has trails of white cream smeared all over his delicious length, matted into the hair along his pelvis. Far too much to be just pre cum. 

"D-did you cum earlier?” You can’t stop the grin that forms on your face as you realize Rafayel had finished earlier just watching you pleasure yourself against him. Literally came undone at the mere thought and sight of your pleasure.

Rafayel averts his eyes, hiding under his tousled bangs, his face tomato red, "Sh-shut up!” His reaction only makes you laugh and want to provoke him more.

"You’re such a bad boy Rafayel, cumming without me touching you,” you coo, using one hand to scratch his hair soothingly, "Just an eager little kitty for me.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow as his lips form his signature pouty grimace, "I am not a cat.”

You open your mouth to tease him more, but Rafayel pushes you harder into the wall so he can free one hand to rub his thumb against your lips. You yelp at the feel of the stone cold wall being pressed further into your burning skin. With his finger on your mouth, his eyebrow raise at you pointedly.  His eyes light up with an intense and burning warning, "I’m about to fucking ravage you. Are you sure you want to keep teasing me?”

His words shut you up instantly. You shake your head vehemently and obediently, your cunt aching at his promises, needing nothing more than to be filled with him.

"Good girl,” he murmurs, his hand moving off your lips to reach under your dress, hooking his finger into the waistband of your panties. You shiver at the feel of his palm on your waist, as he attempts to pull them off of you. But he quickly grows impatiently frustrated at the tangle of your bodies. 

"I'll buy you another pair, ‘kay?” You’re about to protest but Rafayel wastes absolutely no time, bunching the delicate material in his fist and tearing it off you. You gape as the sound of fabric ripping sounds in the air and watch the lace material fall to the ground. 

"R-Rafayel! I liked that pair!” You scold, hitting his shoulder in a mixture of disbelief but also arousal at his primal urge. You know you should be more upset but you find yourself just melting into a puddle at his unabashed behavior. I mean honestly you wore those in hopes that he might see them anyways.  

"I'll buy you as many as you want, if you let me rip them off of you,” he grins in feigned apologeticness. At your expression he continues, this time earnestly, "M’sorry, just can’t wait anymore.” And with those words, Rafayel sheaths himself into you. You yelp at the alarming stretch, his girth much more than you’re used to. Even with the thick slick of your combined orgasms, it’s slightly painful to accommodate him.

Simultaneously, Rafayel cries out huskily as he enters you, your grip down there absolutely strangling his erection. The finish of your first climax thickly coats his cock, but it’s just barely enough to offset the stretch from how thick he is. His strong arms hold you securely in place as his pelvis slowly begins thrusting up into you, pushing you up the wall at every stroke. 

The angle he has you in meant every single thrust hits your cervix, his cock unbelievably lengthy. The curvature causes every stroke to drag deliciously against your g spot which makes you cream uncontrollably at each thrust, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock that splashes into you with every vigorous stroke. Your clit rubs roughly against his pelvis, his coarse happy trail rubbing against it with every movement, stimulating your body beyond belief.

"Fuck you’re taking me so well baby,” Rafayel moans into your ear, swallowing another mouthful of your aroma. You whimper as you feel him getting unbelievably harder at your scent alone, his solid flesh brushing against every single corner of your gummy walls. His veins throb inside of you as he twitches in pleasure. "So fucking tight, all for me yeah?” 

"Raf, s’big. Feel s’good,” you slur, the haze of ecstasy starting to cloud your consciousness. His thrusts go harder, deeper, at your praises, and you cry out, unable to stop your thighs, and simultaneously your cunt, from tightening around him. 

A strangled moan leaves his lips at your movements, his damp forehead pressing against yours as one of his hands leave your thighs to grip the wall next to you. "Sh-shit are you always this tight or is this jus’ for me?”

Before you can respond, Rafayel is babbling huskily into your ear again, "Wish you could see yourself right now. You look so beautiful, so fucked out, all for me huh?” 

Your eyes squeeze shut at his filthy words, and you can’t help but clench down on him again. Your profuse arousal coats the hair along his pelvis, creating the most filthy and lewd noises as Rafayel continues to bounce you onto his cock, his stamina absolutely unreal. Your lips chant his name, over and over, your brain only filled with him. 

"Look at me Y/N, need to see you,” Rafayel begs into your neck, still absolutely inhaling your pheromones, getting harder at every intake, "Jesus you smell so fucking good.”

You force your eyes open, fighting the ecstasy from taking over completely. As he shifts to stare into your eyes, he gives you the most gorgeous Rafayel smile that threatens to short circuit your brain and stop your heart. There’s an overwhelming swirl of emotions in his purple-blue eyes: lust, mischief, adoration, respect, longing, and…so much love. 

It’s all enough to make you want to confess the feelings you yourself had forced deep down, trying desperately to forget them for the sake of your friendship and working relationship. Rafayel keeps staring into your eyes, straight into your soul, and you finally open your mouth to try and find the words, "I–”

But instead, he cuts you off, bending down so your lips brush against each other again, "I know.” With those words, he presses himself needily into your waiting mouth

Grateful that he doesn’t need you to say the words, you return his kiss with equal fervor, doing your best to convey all the things you had wanted to say.

The bruisingly passionate kiss pushes you towards the edge as Rafayel continues to bounce you ruthlessly onto his cock. You’re forced to pull away from his lips to let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Through the overwhelming ecstasy, Rafayel takes the opportunity to shove his hand in between your bodies, easily finding your clit. The stimulation forces you to scream out uncontrollably, your eyes and head rolling back into the wall. 

"Jesus look at how soaked you are Y/N,” he mumbles in awe, eyes glued to where your bodies connected, "Look, baby.”

At his urging, you force yourself to lift your head off the wall and glance down at his fervent ministrations. The sight you’re met is enough to make you finish all over him right then and there. 

The veins in Rafayel’s thick forearm bulge as he paws at your clit furiously, the slick glistening on his thick length and splatters as the force of his thrusts rattle you deliciously against the cold wall. As he pulls out of you entirely with each thrust, you can see the throb of each vein of his cock, aching to be thrust back inside you. 

"Raf-Rafayel,” you gasp out, "I–”

"I-I know baby, I can feel it. Squeezing the life out of me,” he groans, shifting your entire weight onto his right arm while his left forearm slams into the wall above your head, anchoring him and allowing him to fuck into you with a new mind numbing intensity. 

His chin digs into your shoulder as he hammers into you relentlessly, "Ffuuck baby, gonna make me cum all – shit – over you huh?”

The force of the orgasm that chases you is utterly blinding, and against your better judgment you plead with him, "P-please cum inside Raf, I want to feel you.”

You can feel his panting breath hitch by your ear, and he whispers, "Are you sure? Don’t tease me Y/N. Y-you can’t take it back. Please.”

"Won’t take it b-back,” you wail as his thrusts bruise your walls, the painful pleasure edging you closer and closer to your undoing. "Please Rafayel, need you inside me s’badly.”

At your begging, Rafayel goes absolutely insane. He slams you so vigorously against the wall that you can practically feel the entire house shake. Every throbbing thrust pushes against your more sensitive spots, bullying right into your cervix. His breath becomes increasingly erratic and he sinks his teeth into your neck to contain his throaty moans. 

The sudden sensation of his teeth against your pulse, so dangerously aggressive yet gently teasing, sends you barreling into your orgasm. "Cumming, cumming, m’cumming Raf,” you wail repeatedly, unable to form any other words as tears stream down your face and onto his ruined dress shirt. 

Your hand roughly tears at Rafayel’s hair as he continues to ravage both your clit and your aching hole, finally sending your body into the mind numbing explosion of your climax. Your cunt grips onto him for dear life, throbbing uncontrollably to the sloppy rhythm of his thrusts. You ride the endless waves of your orgasm, vision blurring as tears continue to spill from your eyes. 

"Raf, s’too much,” you whimper, fingers releasing his hair and reaching down to scratch at his back, trying to relieve any of the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to make you lose consciousness. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about how you were destroying Rafayel’s expensive shirt under your nails. Your legs tighten around his waist as he continues to pound you into the wall. You’re almost sure your body will be battered and bruise tomorrow, not that you’d complain. 

"M’sorry,” he pants, but only thrusts harder and faster, "Jus’ hold onto me love. M’so – ffuuck – so fucking close.” You nod obediently, still riding the last receeding waves of your own orgasm, pussy quivering around every ridge and vein on his shaft. 

"Jesus if you could feel how tight you’re squeezing me right now,” Rafayel grits through clenched teeth, "You want me to cum inside you that bad? That you’re gonna force it out of me?”

Your lids feel so heavy as the pleasure of your orgasm ebbs into exhausted satisfaction, and you murmur, "M’not doing anything Raf, you jus’ feel so good. So deep.”

At your praises, Rafayel lets out a strangled groan and comes undone inside of you. You cry out as the warmth of his spend fills you, soothing the ache from the ravaging your poor cunt just took. He shoots rope after rope of it into you, a never ending stream of him emptying inside of you.

Rafayel rests his forehead against yours, his forearm still using the wall above your head to support him. You both pant into each other as the quivering of your cunt squeezes every last drop of him inside you. He shivers at the feeling of your womanhood throbbing around his softening member, completely spent.

Rafayel does his best to keep himself, and you, upright. His arms shake slightly, the aftershocks of his own orgasm devastating every muscle in his body. You can feel his biceps trembling, you fight to keep your eyes open, "S’okay Raf I can stand.”

"Okay love,” he murmurs into your hair, taking in one last whiff of your scent, before pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. You whimper as he slips out of you, your sore hole still wanting nothing more to be filled by Rafayel. You do your best to ignore the thick streaks of your collective spend dripping down your legs. As you unhook your thighs and let your feet touch the floor, your body gives out.

Rafayel catches you before your knees can crash into the tiled bathroom floor. You don’t have to look at his face to know he’s smirking at you.

"Need me to carry you baby?”

As you hold yourself up clutching his arm, you narrow your eyes at him, "No. Shut up.”

Rafayel chuckles, the smile in his eyes glowing brightly at you, "Come on Y/N, let me take care of you.”

Your snappy refusal is cut off by your squeal as Rafayel scoops you into his arms, like a princess. You wince at the feeling of the smearing of dampness between your thighs as Rafayel hooks his arms under your thighs. You hadn't even noticed that he’d put his belt back on. 

"Always with the theatrics Rafayel,” you grin, unable to stop yourself from burying your face into his chest. He smiles in response as he carries you through his home. You breathe in Rafayel’s scent, an intoxicating blend of sea salt, cardamom, and arousal. 

"You love me.” 

You sigh to yourself, love him you absolutely did. But that was a conversation you two would need to have another day. 

Looking up, you find yourself in Rafayel’s room, his white curtains billowing as the night time breeze cascades through them. As Rafayel sets you down on his plush king sized bed, your phone rings from the inside of his pocket. You’d almost forgotten you’d given him your phone when Thomas had called earlier. 

The phone keeps ringing as Rafayel sits besides where you lay, attention focused solely on you. You pat his thigh, "Raf? Can you pick up my phone?”

Rafayel grimaces as he grabs your cell phone from his slack pockets. "It’s just Thomas,” he grumbles like a child, "I told him not to call again.”

He takes one look at your unamused expression and sighs in defeat, "Fine fine.” 

Rafayel picks up the phone, snapping, "What Thomas?” 

"Speaker phone,” you mouth at him, only able to hear Thomas’s erratic mumbles through the phone. He rolls his eyes, but puts the call on speaker, holding it up between you two.

"You guys better be half dead in a ditch or actually dead,” he threatens sulkily, "How could you guys not show up?”

"Didn’t I say not to call again?” Rafayel fires back, but his tone is teasing. You know Rafayel cares about Thomas a lot, even if he makes the agent’s life hell. 

"Thomas, I'm so sorry! I’ll make it up to you I swear,” you apologize, feeling horribly guilty. You could only imagine how many angry sponsors and reporters he had to deal with. 

As Rafayel holds the phone with one hand for you to speak into, he notices your black dress had ridden up to reveal glistening streaks pooling down your legs. He uses the index finger of his free hand to scoop up the spend that continues to drip down your thighs. Your breath hitches as he smirks at you, his hand creeping up further, into your inner thigh. 

"You owe me so many dinners,” Thomas grumbles, but you have a difficult time paying attention to the rest of his words as Rafayel’s hands venture further up, dangerously. You give him a warning look, but his fingers only trail up further to tease you, grazing against your bare slit. 

"Are you guys even listening to me?” Thomas demands through the phone, his tone is as pouty as Rafayel normally is.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry,” you try to keep your voice as steady as possible, "I'll uh, I'll get you take out tomorrow!” You swat at Rafayel’s lingering hands but he doesn’t budge. His ears are pink and you notice his breaths are coming out in short pants as he quietly climbs onto the bed at your feet. You do your best to keep your own moans from bursting uncontrollably out of your lips as his fingers relentlessly tease you.

"Yes, and I want boba too. With extra – wait. What are you guys doing?” Rafayel and your eyes snap to each other and then to the phone. You’re about to speak when Thomas’s shrill voice cuts in again.

"You guys better not be doing what I think you’re doing! I swear to g–”

“‘Kay gotta go bye bye Thomas love you!” Rafayel interrupts sheepishly, ending the call with his thumb. There’s a brief moment of disbelief and silence before you both burst out into laughter. 

You clutch your stomach, trying to catch your breath as the uncontrollable giggles keep coming. But the thought of Thomas makes you feel guilty again, "Rafayel maybe we can still make it to the party if we hurry. We can’t just leave Thomas –”

Rafayel shushes you with his finger, his hair falling into his eyes as he leans over you, "I just got an idea for a painting and I have to start right now.” 

You’re no stranger to Rafayel’s spontaneous bouts of inspiration. In the past, he’d literally drag you to the oceanside and not ten minutes into the excursion, he’d race home needing to get started on an idea he had right then and there. And sometimes he’d forget you at the beach.

"Right now? But we’re not in the studio,” you squirm as Rafayel leans closer to your face, shifting his body so that he’s kneeling at your feet, in between your legs. 

"Oh. I meant a different kind of painting. Maybe on your stomach,” your brows furrow in confusion at his words as he smirks mischievously at you. You squeak as he climbs to hover over you, his body pressed against your still sensitive areas. Your body heats up again as the feel of his hardening cock against you. 

His thumb presses against your bottom lip, the salty taste of him invading your senses once more, "Or maybe…on your beautiful face.”

The implications of his words finally hits you all at once, and your face burns like a wildfire. You hit his shoulder weakly and unconvincingly, already succumbing to the arousal pooling back in your thighs as you watch the desperate need return to his eyes. 

"R-Rafayel!” 

"Then again you’re already a piece of art,” he murmurs, his voice groggy with desire. He presses a kiss to your parted lips, then to your exposed collarbone, and then to your covered breasts, "But you know me. I like to take my time with my art.”  Oh you were utterly fucked.

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[lokigodofmyheart]

TRAINING PARTNERS

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Zuko x Female Reader.

Summary: The Gang had gone to a mission to get something that Katara said Aang would need, but they left the two fire Benders of the team behind: Zuko and Y/N. 

Warning/Content: smut.

A/N: Zuko and reader are both 18.

Zuko sighs when he sits down by her side “I wish they would have taken us with them.” 

“Are you’re really surprised that we’ve been left behind...again?” She chuckles at his frustration. 

He just shrugs “No, not really. But still sucks. What are they expecting us to do while we wait?” 

“You’ll get used to it.” Y/N says. 

Zuko tried to ignore her, as he got up and started to practice his fire bending. Y/N smiled “Do you want a partner to train?” 

“Hm...sure, why not?” He looked at her surprised for her offering. She was also a fire bender, so she would be the perfect person to train with him of all gaang. Well, except for Aaang, of course. “Let’s see how good you are.” Zuko says to her with a smirk. 

“Don’t get too confident.” She smirks back at him. 

“You’re ready?” Zuko asked as he makes some fire in his hand. 

“What do I get if I win?” Y/N asked him. 

“You don’t get anything. This is just for us to train.” He replied. 

“Oh, come on. Let’s make a small competition, just for the fun of it.” She smirks. 

Zuko thinks about and nods “Alright then.” 

“Okay.” Y/N says to him “What do I get if I win?” 

“Well, if you win, I will agree to train with you more often. What do I get if I win?” Zuko asked her. 

Y/N thinks for a moment, before she replied “If you win, you can get anything you want from me.” 

Zuko grins “Deal.” She smirks at him and as soon as he agrees, she already attacked him with her fire bending. Zuko starts to counter her moves “You’re not as bad as I thought.” 

“I’m actually amazing at this.” She says as she block one of his attacks. Zuko just grins at her, sending another wave of fire at her, which she manage to block again, before she counter-attack. But it didn’t hit him. “Come on, pretty boy, don’t go easy on me.” She teases him with a smirk on her face. 

He smirks at her too “Alright the, you asked for it.” Y/N still managed to block every attack he made, but he was way stronger than her. Noticing her struggle as she took a step back in each attack, Zuko send a much larger one at her, making her stumble and fall on the ground. He chuckles seeing he won as he goes to help her “Good job. I guess I want my reward now.” 

“Maybe not yet.” She says when he’s closer. She used a move to make him lose his balance and fall too. Y/N took advantage of this and she sited on his lap, pinning him down.  

That made Zuko groans at her “Alright, alright. You won.” 

“I think we both won, just in different forms.” She smiles “So, what do you want from me?” Zuko just smirks looking at her. “What is it?” 

“Do you really want to know?” 

“Come on, Zuko. I’m waiting. What do you want?” She was still in the same position. 

“Okay.” He chuckles “How about a kiss?” 

That made Y/N let out a small laugh “Okay, sure.” She leans in and kiss him quickly. Her body moved on top of him, making him moan softly into the kiss, his hand moving to her waist. 

“You’re even better than I imagined.” Zuko says when she breaks the kiss. 

“Oh, so you have imagined kissing me?” Y/N teases him. 

His hand moved to her hips “I’ve imagined a lot more than that.” 

“Really? Like what?” She whispered, her face coming closer to his again. 

“I’ve imagined exploring every inch of your body.” He says in her ear, his lips brushing against it. 

“How exactly?” She asks in a whisper, closing her eyes at the feeling of his breath on her ear. 

“I’m sure you can imagine plenty of ways. Now how about we get back to training?” He smirks. Zuko knew exactly what he was doing to her. 

Y/N didn’t move “Hm...I don’t think I can imagine. How about you tell me?” 

Zuko turns them around, before he get up and help her. “Alright, let’s go back to training.” But before he could get back in his position, she grabbed his arm to stop him. “You really are determined, aren’t you?”  

“I just want to hear what your brilliant mind was imagining about me.” She smirks. 

He laughs at her “Fine.” Zuko leans in again, his hand on her hips again, but this time his grip was stronger “I’ve imagined running my fingers to your hair, your neck..” He then whispers in her ear “I imagined kissing your body, starting with your lips, your chest, all the way down until I can finally taste you.” 

Y/N had closed her eyes at the feeling “What else?” 

His lips brushes against her ear this time “I imagined you beneath me, begging me...” Her breath was getting heavier just with the thoughts of this. Zuko then took a step back smirking “Alright, now let’s focus on our training?” 

“...what?” She opened her eyes looking at him confused. 

“You heard me.” He chuckles. 

She rolls her eyes at him “You can’t say all of that and then just want to go back to training.” Zuko had done this on purpose and now she realized. With a groan, she agrees “Fine.” 

Y/N was frustrated and she attacked him with more forcefully. She was going to make him pay to let her so frustrated and wet like that. She blocked his attacks easily, but he was still stronger than her, so she had the perfect idea to get back at him and distract him too. “You know, I also had imagined things with you.” 

Zuko grins dodging her attack “Oh, really? Do tell.” 

“I’ve imagined how you would kiss me.” She attacked “How good it would be to hear you moan” She did it again. Zuko was blocking all of her tries. “I also imagined what your face would look like with me on my knees for you...” He attacked her and she blocked, ready for her final struck “...right before I put you in my mouth.” He let out a laugh blocking her again, but she noticed his face “You’re blushing.” 

He looks away before he clears his throat, trying to hide the fact he was indeed blusing “Let’s focus on the training, shall we?” 

“You’re so cute when you blushing like that.” She smiles. 

Zuko rolls his eyes at her and attacked again, but this time it wasn’t that strong “You’re just trying to distract me now.” 

She managed to block his attack “Maybe I am.” 

“But you’re not succeeding.” He says, making another try at her. 

“You sure?” She dodged “You seem quite distracted with the though of me sucking your cock.” Zuko didn’t made another attack, he just blushed even more and glares at her. “Like I said, so cute blushing.” She attacks him now that he’s distracted, making him lose his balance. 

He barely managed to dodge this time “You’re enjoying this too much.” 

“I am.” She made anoter strong attack “Wanna hear what else had been through my mind?” 

Zuko blocked her “Just stop the dirty talk...Let’s focus on the fight.” 

“I can do both.” She says before she blocks his attack. 

He sighs “You’re not making this easy.” 

“Well, that’s my intention.” She louche another attack, getting closer to him. 

“Fine, if you want dirty talk, you’ll get dirty talk.” Zuko says, making her smirk. 

“Do your worse.” 

“I imagined how you would squirm while I eat you out and fuck you with my finger. And then how I would slid deep inside you while I feel you clench desperate around me.” Zuko says while he attacks her. 

“That’s hot.” Y/N says sending another attack, feeling herself getting wet with his thoughs. 

Zuko dodges her attack “I think I can imagine you on your knees begging me to fuck your mouth.”  

She chuckles, blocking him again “If I’m on my knees, you’ll be the one doing the begging part.” 

He groans “Alright, you won. Let’s jus end this spar.” 

“Alright.” She make a last attack, that makes him actually fall this time. “I won.” She then came closer and offered her hand to him.  

He accepts and pulls himself up “I think we could both use a break now.” 

“Yeah, I’m tired already” she laughs as they walk back to where the tents were, sitting near by and drinking some water. Y/N looks at him with a smile “Don’t think too much about what happened, I was just trying to mess with you.”  

Zuko chuckles at this. Y/N noticed that her dirty talk had really got into him because she could see his erection in his pants. Zuko blushes when he realized she noticed and looked away, trying to hide it. That made Y/N smirks again “I know I already said that, but you’re really cute blushing.” 

His face turned redder “Shut up.” 

Y/N let out a laugh before her hands reach his face and turn back to look at her “Own, don’t turn away. I wanna see it.” 

Zuko sighs looking back at her “It’s nothing.” 

“It’s cute.” She smiled. 

He looks away again “Just shut up.” 

“You can be fine dirty talking but can’t handle being called cute.” She giggles “That’s one of the reasons I’ve fallen for you.” 

Zuko turn to look at her in surprise “W-what?” 

Her laugh died as soon as she relieved what she had just said. “Oh, fuck.” 

“W-what did you say?” He asked her again. 

“Nothing, forget it.” She says as she looks away from him. 

“Wait, did you just said “I’ve fallen for you”?” Zuko asked her. 

“No...” 

“Are you sure?” He leans in closer to her “Cause it sounded kinda like you did.” 

“I didn’t.” She could feel the heat on her face. 

Zuko leans in even closer to her “Then why are you blushing?” 

“Shut up.” It’s all she says. 

“Please, tell me you did.” He says, his breath brushing agains her skin. 

“Why?” Y/N asked in a whisper. 

“Because I think I’ve fallen for you too.” Zuko whispers back. Y/N just looks in his eyes, before he leans in gently kissing her lips while his hand cup her face. She kisses him back while her arms go around his neck, making Zuko groans in the kiss as he pulls her closer. The tension between them was too much. Her hands travel to his robe, removing it from him. Zuko gasp softly feeling her hand on his chest, before his hands help her take her top too. 

Y/N didn’t break the kiss while she palmed his erection through his pants, making Zuko moan in the kiss, his hands moving to unzip her pants. “Do you want me to stop?” She asks him as she helps him take off her pants. 

Zuko shakes his head, his hand stroking her bare thighs “No, keep going.”  

She unzips his pants too and pulled down all his remaining clothes, before she kneels between his legs. Zuko gasped when her hand started to stroke his cock “Fuck...don’t stop.” 

“I’m not planning to.” She kept her movements while his hand found her hair. Y/N decided to tease him a bit more as she licks his member.  

That made Zuko growls “Gods...don’t...do that...” 

“Why not?” She asks with a smirk on her face. 

His hips kept bucking up into her hand “Because...I’m...” 

Y/N licks him again, slowly this time, making her tongue circling his tip “You what?” 

“You’re...fucking...driving me crazy...” Zuko managed to say. 

She just chuckles before she stops everything she was doing “Lay down.” Zuko does as she says and she smile before she straddles him, making him moan when his hard member brushed against her wetness. His hand soon found her hips to guide her down to him, making her moan as soon as she felt him entering her. 

Zuko’s hand grips tightly on her hips “Fuck...so tight...” 

Y/N stays like that for a moment to get used to his length stretching her, before she starts moving her hips. Zuko moans as she started riding him “Gods...” Her hips moved back and forward in a fast rhythm “Fuck...you feel so good.” He says as his hand cup her breast. Y/N moans making her head fall back. 

Zuko also moans, his hips thrusting up to meet hers “I love watching you like this.” 

“Riding you?” She asks. 

“Yeah...” His eyes were locked on her body. 

“I’m close.” She says between her moans as she felt her climax approaching. 

Zuko grips her hips again “Don’t stop...let me feel you come.” Y/N felt her orgasm hitting her in seconds, making her a mess around his cock. Zuko also felt his climax with hers, coming inside her as she growns her name.  

Her body falls on top of his from the exhaustion and his hand stroke her back softly “I think we should do this more times.” 

“Training?” She looks up at him. 

Zuko laughs “Yeah, training.” 

“I’m glad they left us behind...again.” She laughs.

"Me too." He says kissing her cheek.

[tailsz]

Demon slayer men boyfriend headcannons‼️

(NSFW INCLUDED)

——————————

Includes : Tanjiro , Zenitsu , Inosuke , Tomioka , Sanemi , Tengen , Obanai , Muzan , Akaza , Douma , and Kokushibo

(this is my first post so bear with me AND english isn’t my first language so sorry for mistakes!)

—————————————————————————————————————

Tanjiro!

okay so we ALL know this guy has the sweetest heart so expect a lot of lovely dovey gestures such as….

Cute little morning letters if he leaves before you or you just don’t work as a demon slayer!

something along the lines of “i made you breakfast eat it before it gets too cold!! I hope you have a lovely day and i love you so so much”

(if ur parents are still alive 😍) he will absolutely win them over EVEN IF THEYRE THE MOSG HARDCORE PEOPLE EVERRR

he has a way with people what can you say

multiple lunch dates a week are a must! you guys go out and try as as many restaurants when you guys go on missions together if ur a demon slayer!

if not he will personally bring you takeout from his missions!

you and nezeko bonded a lot and she LOVES when you play with her hair it makes her sleepy ASAP (tanjiro walked in during the middle of this and his heart almosy exploded)

for y’all’s free time you both decided to try new hobbies together like Yoga, art , dancing ETC ITS VERY CUTE MOMENTS!

NSFW!

he’s a soft dom! but if you bring up the thought of you topping him he will NOT object

OH HE IS SUCH A ROMANTIC IN BED

Sex with him is literally the embodiment of “love making” because he showers you with love and pleasure

MISSIONARY 100% OF THE TIME

he is vanilla but that doesn’t matter because he’s drowning you with praises and caressing your perfect body <3

his aftercare is literally going to heaven and back

he’ll massage you and whisper sweet nothings into your ears

THIGHS GUY

———————————————

Zenitzu!!

at the beginning he’s really REALLY awkward

might even like be hella weird towards you (because you’re the first woman/man he’s ever been perused as romantically)

SO GIVE HIM TIME HE’LL GET THERE

Once he does he will quite LITERALLY will kill everyone in a room and then himself for you

you are his princess (your also his knight and shining armor because… well… it’s zenitzu…)

1000% shows you off like a medal of honor to ANYONE AND I MEAN ANYONE

this one time he was blabbing about you to a stranger to the point where said stranger just respectfully told him he doesn’t care

you had to STRAP HIM DOWN to prevent bodily injuries

he likes taking afternoon walks with you , he really enjoys the beautiful site with his beautiful partner

he randomly picks up flowers from the ground and gives them to you because they reminded you of him!

NSFW!!

he is a switch with a bottom preference

the thought of you just absolutely demolishing him will get his body all fuzzy and tingling 🤭

reverse cowgirl is his FAVORITE POSITION OF ALL TIME HANDS DOWN

the nights when it’s not just pleasure he likes to top you and take things slow to show you just how much you mean to him

as well as absolutely showering you with corny praises (he’s so silly!)

HIS AFTER CARE IS ODD

if he’s SPENT he will most likely pass out leaving you in charge of aftercare

if not he’ll just cuddle u to sleep

(totally not because that means he’ll see u naked again in the morning)

TITS GUY

—————————————————————

inosuke!

he didn’t comprehend the fact that you 2 we’re dating 🧍🏽‍♀️

you had to explain to him and half way through the was flustered and asked you to SQARE UP?? (HE HAD A NO IDEA HOW TO RESPOND TO THAT)

like zenitsu he was also very much awkward if not more at the start of the start of the relationship

But not awkward in a hes shy way

NO HES AWKWARD BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO SHOW??? FEELINGS??

because that’s gross

Tanjiro and Zenitsu had to help the guy to at least an OUNCE of a romantic

he’s really not much of one though

his idea of dates or romance of training or fighting w/ you!

you don’t really mind but if it does get to a point where it bothers you by the lack of romance

HE WILL TRY (key word TRY) to be more affectionate towards you!

he sees a pretty rock? it’s yours!

he sees a pretty branch it’s yours!

he sees a cute cayote? It’s you-

the time he actually brought you one you almost SHAT yourself 😓

NSFW!!

oh he’s a dom

he views smexy time as a challenge

so you bringing up the idea of topping is you trying to WIN and he would rather DIE than lose

again the concept was a foreign area to him

and if you both get to the sexual parts for a relationship , he will seek guidance from you!

(while also refusing for you to demonstrate for him because he “knows what he’s doing” 😒

what’s aftercare?

he does not do it at first meaning you are doing it

after a while he’ll start picking up after you and do it himself

(if you tease him about it he will throw you off the bed)

ASS GUY

—————————————————————

Tomioka!

When he asked you out he said

“will you take my hand in a relationship”

it’s as serious as it sounds

he is comfortable as soon as you begin the relationship because of 2 reasons

for him to consider a relationship with you , you’d guys would’ve have to know eachother for a while

and because if you didn’t want him you would’ve said no

AND SINCE YOU DIDNT😍

hes 100% sure you guys will be just fine WHICH YOU ARE :D

little small gestures of affection from you will get his heart flipping like—

holding his hands ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU BEGING CONTACT WITH PINKY TOUCH 😓

(he’s touch starved FEED HIM)

the one time you begged him to let you style his hair was the day that he won’t let you do anything else BUT that

he loves how your fingers feel against his head

sending tingles down his spine of safety yk?

he carries anything you give him in his haori (like little charms!)

he likes it when you whisper sweet nothings into his ears it gets him all giggly

NSFW!!

he is a switch with no preference

he will be whatever you want him to be 😍

when he top’s he can get carried away with eagerness

when you guys have sex he very much loses his mind which is why he can be rough when he tops

HOWEVER WHEN HE BOTTOMS JESUS CHRIST

He will be a whimpering mess

being your little slut asking for more n more <3

being a hashira he can and WILL last very long

he’s 1000% into hair pulling both giving n reviving

as u guys last longer n longer into the relationship he will be more open to risks 😍

(like public sex)

this one time did the deed in a public bathroom in a restaurant while the rest of the hashiras were waiting on the food 🤭

He will run a bath for the 2 of you afterwards and fall asleep in each others arms<3

he’s an ass guy

—————————————————————

Sanemi!

like giyuu , for him to consider a relationship with you , you have a LONGG history

it took him a while for him to actually ask you out 🧍🏽‍♀️

it got to the point where he was going to lose you to someone else because of how long it took

shinobu “helped” to ask you out

and by help i mean he forced him to ask you out in front of her

shinobu top tier wingwoman fr fr ‼️(she had enough of him wasting an opportunity so she took matters into her own hands)

he will absolutely NOT do PDA (at least at the beginning of the relationship)

his ego n pride are too much for that

once he gets over himself he will at MOST hold hands with you ig 😒😒

he forces u to train with him

he is an AMAZING cook and makes you breakfast n lunch (house husband material!!)

he’s also surprisingly good at doing hair whether it’s short or long! (he makes u buns a lot )

he’s such a romantic behind closed doors

shinobu caught him in the middle of that act and while she didn’t tell anyone…

she teased him to DEATH

NSFW!!

oh he’s a MEAN top no questions asked

he will degrade you to the BONE (which you don’t mind 🤭)

he’s also very VERY rough hitting and attacking ALLL of your sweet spots on your body (inside as well 😋)

he loves calling you a needy slut 🤭

ONE TIME. he has a wet dream where you topped him and... HE WOKE UP WITH THE HARDEST BONER OF HIS LIFE

he will never ever EVERR bring up the idea of u topping him ( if you bring up he MIGHT let it happen🤨 he’s so stubborn)

HE IS SO MEAN WHEN IT COMES TO ORGASM.

if he’s fucking you because he’s jealous or you pissed him off???

he’s going to deny your orgasms for an hour ☠️

SEX DRIVE?? MEDIUM

STAMINA IS . HIGHHHH

he’s pretty average with aftercare , he’ll bring u water n a towel

on a good day you both will shower together! (50/50 chance that y’all will fuck again!)

he’s a thigh guy

—————————————————————

tengen!!

what’s another wife to the list?

all four of them (tengen n his wives) found you very attractive at first sight and they had NO shame into admitting that

after knowing you for a while THEY ALL asked you join the relationship! it caught u off guard 😨

when you entered the relationship they literally all wanted u for themselves 😓

tengen is SUCH A ROMANTIC AND WILL ABUSE PDA SO MUCH

if you’re a fellow hashira my god he will tease you in public so much??? and you’re like FOR WHAT???

hashira meetings will get HELLA awkward with both of y’all (everyone is just like “this again??☠️”

like zenitzu he will FLEX U SOO BAD especially to single folks because in his eyes being single is such a skill issue 🤨

his form of affection is expensive gifts so

EXPECT TO BE PAMPERED WITH A LOT OF JEWELRY 🤭 ( we love sugar daddies )

he also refuses to NOT take y’all on fancy restaurants because anything other than that is LAME AND TACKY 🤨

MATCHING OUTFITS ARE A MUST!!

after he retired, you guys have religious weekly movie nights a lot (you all take turns in picking movies)

NSFW!!

OKAY SO TENGEN IS A SWITCH WITH A PREFERENCE ON TOPPING

now he has 2 different ways of going about it

if it’s sex on One on One , HE IS SO MEAN??

he will 100% mock you during the whole thing

mocking when you choke on air or a moan is his specialty 😓😓

seeing you cock drunk will drive him CRAZY

thighs are so HOT TO HIM (thigh highs are a must!)

he leaves so many bite marks and bruises on your inner thighs

HIS HANDS ARE HUGE DAWG

he likes fingering before fucking and GOD HES SO GOOD AT FINGERING?

he can n WILL make u come more than twice with just his fingers😓

it’s a the whole group sex with him n his wife’s

he’s a sweetheart! taking care of his little princess nasty needs!

when he bottoms with all 4 of you on him he gets so cocky 😒

he loves how you all take care of HIS nasty needs in such a good way

HAIR PULLING

and he’s very much into orgasm denial HES A JERK

def a tits guy

bdsm king

—————————————————————

OBANAI ( i love him sm ) <333

okay uh

before y’all started dating he was so shy around you because??? you’re so??? perfect?????

if you so much as breathe into his direction he will literally die

he asked u in the most romantic cliche ever (but it doesn’t matter because he pulled it off so well??)

he made you follow little notes at night eventually leading to a tree that had a saying “will you be my mine and go out on a date with me?” with 2 boxes saying yes and no

at first you were confused until you saw a familiar snake 🤭 making you giggle you chose the yes box!

HE WAS INTERNALLY SCREAMING BC HE THOUGHT HE WAS BEING HELLA CRINGE 😓

moving onto the relationship…

he is literally the perfect boyfriend

when he gets needy n wants to talk to u , he sends kaburamaru to fetch you!

kaburamaru literally loves u too ! ( obanai also send u flowers through him!)

he gets jealous easy like VERY

he’s very protective of you ! and he expects the same because you are his and he’s all urs <3

will literally end the bloodline of ANYONE who talks smack abt u

at first, yalls kisses would be with his mask on. he still wasn’t ready to let that open yet

after a whole LONG while , he got enough confidence to kiss u with his scars and everything (which u appreciated and enjoyed very much <3)

he likes holding pinkies while walking together

he’s not really a fan of PDA but if someone is trying to flirt with u????

oh U BETTER BET HES GOING TO BE ALL OVER U (u don’t complain)

he makes flower crowns for the both of y’all daily <33

y’all have hella picnic dates it’s getting out of hand atp! y’all barely eat at home

NSFW!!

obanai is a top with 2 sides to him…

A- he can be the most sappy romantic when y’all have sex

OR B- HES LITERALLY BEING ASSHOLE TO YOU

There’s in NO between

when hes being a jerk he denies orgasms

and his liking to marking is x10

he loves leaving bitemarks he knows u can’t hide🤭

def into u riding him but HES in total control

u brought up that you like it when he puts his hair in a pony tail when y’all have sex so HE DOES IT ALL THE TIME

he’s not really much of a risk taker

will not stop unless your trembling😋

if he’s being sweet he’s take things slow making sure your enjoying yourself as well as him <3

will whisper sweet nothings <3

HIS EARS ARE SENSITIVE‼️‼️

he treats u like a goddess in aftercare

will get u water , a towel , a warm bath , tons of cuddles and a lil snack 😋

HES INTO BONDAGE

HES AN ASS GUY 🤭🤭

—————————————————————

Muzan 😨

to how you got together? you don’t even know

if your a human , you ran into while im a hurry ! you work at a flower shop and was carrying flower pots getting dirt all over his clothes

now he was so ready to end the puny moron who ran into him but..

when he saw you apologizing and apologizing your heart out he felt something? what the hell was that? well it’s not like matters… 😁

If you’re a demon you first of all had to have know him and been loyal to him for CENTURIES for him to even REMOTELY like you

once he does tho you’re always buy his side , like his right hand man/woman! it may seem like he just thinks ur strong but this is his way of spending time with u<33 (while being in denial😓)

now how he asked you out. he didn’t do anything fancy! he just called you in and he straight up told you he liked you and would like make yalls relationship more

if you are a human.. he brought you to a demon meeting and told everyone there that if they even THINK about doing ANYTHING to you he will turn them inside out and throw into the sun<3

he thinks akaza is the best fit for his lovely human wife! you guys get along rlly well

he will keep DOUMA FARRRR AWAY FROM YOU.

koko and u like to read and drink tea together! he finds ur being calming

if you’re a demon everyone already knows u but know muzan expects equal respect from them to you!

though he can be very cold at blunt at time , he can still be romantic towards you!

he likes buying you expensive things to make u feel like a queen

if a human or demon disrespects you in ANY WAY not matter how big or small?they will be no more 😓

NSFW!!

oh man no matter how i see it.

HE

IS

A

TOP

he’s the demon king he expects to be in full control at ALL times and 9 times outta 10.. HE IS MEAN TO U

Doesn’t matter how much he loves you , you will never be superior to him 🧍🏽‍♀️

certified brat tamer!

oh he’s definitely into marking you just the thought of owning what’s rightfully his gets him hard

he’s into degradation so much it’s a problem atp☠️

dont ever degrade him tho

he’ll make sure you NEVER walk again

he puts the d in bdsm

will not stop until you’re a whimpering and crying mess only able to scream out his name :(

he doesn’t know if he likes public sec because he doesn’t like the idea of the chance that people have on seeing what only HE can see

ON THE OTHER HAND. THAT MEANS PEOPLE KNOW UR HIS AND ONLY HIS EVEN MORE….

—————————————————————

Akaza!!

Whether your a demon slayer/hashira or a fellow uppermoon, akaza admired you for being strong

after all akaza think people who r both mentally and physically strong r the best as u can tell with rengoku

before he asked u out, he had to come to terms with it , as he felt he was betraying his late wife

after he accepted the fact that’s it’s okay to move on.. he asked you out in the most akaza way!

he got you a bouquet of flowers 💐 with a little note in it telling u about all the things that he absolutely loves abt u! after reading them , he asked you out!

if you’re a demon you both will be more relaxed about people knowing abt you’re relationship!

until muzan found out.. at first he disapproved because he saw no benefits from u two being in love 🤨

but later on seeing how you two empower eachother be GUESSES it’s ok 😒😒

HOWEVER IF YOURE A HASHIRA..

you two r trying to HARD to keep it super lowkey

it’s mostly night dates n visits you guys can do :( but it’s ok u guys make it work

because the SECOND one or both of ur masters find out… YALL R DEAD

REGARDLESS akaza is very flexible with himself (as a metaphor BUT HE PROBABLY IS LITERALLY)

he absolutely LOVESS self care nights with you!!

talking shit while doing eachother a face masks is one of his favorite pastimes! (the pretty mama gotta do what he can to stay pretty DUH)

douma teases him abt u so much it’s driving him mad

especially because douma is hella touchy w/ h JUST to piss akaza off

which it always ends with douma head on the floor😨

NSFW!!

akaza is 100% a switch with a top preference

he teases u a lot.. BUT IF YOURE A HASHIRA HE STRAIGHT UP MOCKS U😓😓

like he’ll say things like “i thought hashiras we’re supposed to have a lot of stamina.. what’s wrong :(“ ALL WHILE HES SMIRKING

he likes eating you out before fucking you

THE THINGS HIS TOUNGE CAN DO TO UR BODY 😓

he is very rough with you, but holds back a bit if you’re human because if he goes all out he will quite literally break u

IF YOURE A DEMON THO YOURE IN FOR IT ALL😍‼️‼️

even when he’s bottoming he’s still being a little asshole 😒

he completely switches up w/ aftercare! he’s such a sweetheart making u a bath for the two if u to cuddle in for a bit<33

he is a THIGH MAN ALL THE WAY his hands r always resting on them 🤭

—————————————————————

douma!

oh my ?

ok douma likes energetic people so that’s a starter for him to start liking you and ofc knowing you for a couple of decades

i think the thing that sealed off his love for you was the fact that you didn’t treat him like he was weird yk?

you talked to him like he was normal person (well demon but you get what i mean! but he’s SOO far from normal ☠️☠️)

MOVING ONNN he asks you out by making a little game out of it! maybe like pictionary or hang man! it’s rlly silly <33

while your dating even if your a demon or human he will treat you like your made of glass

he views you like one of his dolls ! therefore your his precious

he rlly likes it when you style his hair , in fact he asks you to do so regularly

during the summer time it gets rlly humid n hot as hell in japan even at night so he used his demon art to cool u both off !

akaza asked you to blink 3 times if the relationship was not from ur free will when he found out 😨😨

u guys both have matching fans 🤭🤭

muzan has to literally rip his head off because douma won’t stop talking to u during meetings ☠️

HE IS A BRITNEY SPEARS STAN ‼️‼️

NSFW!!

douma is a switch with no preference it just depends on hows feeling that day (it’s mostly bottom)

He is such a bratty bottom i tell you, he just pushes your buttons til u snap

and snapping means you literally demolishing his ass until she can’t even form any sentences :(

oh jesus christ but when he tops?????

praying for u fr fr

douma is unfair as hell

HE WILL DENY YOUR ORGAMS FOR FUNSIES?? like NOTHING ABT THAT IS FUNNY??

he is súper into bondage

AND EVERYTHING HES SO KINKY

never feel afraid to tell this man any of ur kinks even if they’re weird bc douma will try it out with you no hesitation!

his aftercare is a little rocky but it’s nothing too bad..

at most hes get you both waters and y’all will just chill in bed or anywhere

speaking of anywhere.. HE WILL FUCK U ANYWHERE HE DOES NOT CARE‼️‼️

one time muzan heard y’all bc y’all are SO LOUD (he decapatated both of you on the spot)

he is an ass guy oh my god he can’t go a day without touching it 😓

—————————————————————

Kokushibo!!

okay first all i dont think he cares what type of personality u r (extroverted or introverted)

it does take him a while to accept his feelings towards you because he doesn’t many to get distracted from his duties

but when he pushes that aside he just straight up asks you to stay by his side for the rest of time 💐

he doesn’t do PDA because your love life is not the business of others (muzan thanks the lords for this because he does NOT want to see that)

you guys randomly found a black cat following you one time while on a mission and you wanted to keep it with him!

…..YOU HAD TO BEG HIM FOR AN HOUR BUT HE eventually GAVE IN💔

y’all named her Ei (he will never admit but he will kill anyone who harms her bc he loves her sm)

you like to kiss all 6 of his eyes after a long day (he expects you to do it regularly and gets upset when u don’t)

sometimes asks you do braid his hair to change up his hair style 😋

he makes u train with him to he ensure you’re able to defend yourself from anyone!

matching katanass!! (much to his dismay because god forbid y’all do something cute 😒)

hel likes to carry you in piggy back style a lot 😋

NSFW!!

oh he’s a top no doubt

he will absolutely NOT let u top

BUT YOURE OK WITH IT BECAUSE GAWD DAMN

he is so rough with you that’s all he knows what to do<3

before touching you he wants to see you beg for it he LOVES seeing you all pathetic

HE LOVES FUCKING YOU AGAINST A WALL‼️‼️

he loves it because that means your trapped within in him, with no where to go and he has you EXACTLY how he wants you

oh he pulls your hair a lot when you give him head 🤭

he’s always biting your ears bc he knows they’re sensitive 🤭

he loves missionary as the main position because he gets to see all the expressions he’s making you have <3

HE IS A ASS GUYS ‼️‼️

———————————————————

okay that’s it guys! leave me any request i’ll be happy to do so! <33

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie/reader. Angst to fluff.

Reader is a nerd.

Thinking grass is greener but it’s not/being scared to love.

Eddie’s always had a crush on a Cheerleader, so even through he’s been with Reader for 6 m. When the opportunity to be the cheerlead’s secret partner Eddie goes for it, dumping reader. Eddie quickly realises he just liked the idea of dating a cheerleader, not the reality. She very selfish and wants Eddie to change but won’t change herself. He misses Reader the whole time, and realises/admits to loving her. He tries to win her back but is he too late and too much water under the bridge? (I hope not, but I leave that to you.)

Thanks

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 I had a lot of ideas for this one

⚠️second half wasn't proofread or checked for nothing so 💅🏻

Lose it all for something more?

Eddie had this thing where he always wanted more. It didn't matter how much he had. He'd jump from girl to girl because he loved the new feeling.

He's had a crush on a cheerleader named Becca for years. But she never gave him the time of day. She was full of herself and believed everyone was below her, but she was hot and that was enough. But she never looked Eddie's way, but Y/N did.

Y/N became his girlfriend six months ago, and Eddie adored her. She was a sweet ball of sunshine and she was good for him. She rubbed off on him and he became a better person. He had manners and tried harder in school. She was perfect for him in every way. They had an amazing connection and tons in common. Eddie never thought he'd find someone so perfect for him.

He wasn't sure if he was in love or not, he was still waiting to feel it. He kept waiting to feel a huge rush of emotion to smack him in the face and tell him he was in love.

But since he had to question it, he figured he just wasn't.

~

Eddie was dealing at a party, bored out of his mind as he waited for Y/N to come with his drink.

"Here, handsome," Y/N said as she placed the drink down. He smiled at the name and pecked her lips as a thank you. She sat next to him and cuddled into his arm. The air was chilly as the wind brushed across their bodies. She shivered in her t-shirt and sipped her drink.

"Here, babe," Eddie said, he slipped off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. She snuggled into his scent.

A few customers came and left. Y/N enjoyed talking to everyone and bringing Eddie out of his shell more. She had a huge impact on his social life, before her he never made time to talk with his clients. But now, he could consider some of them friends.

"Big six-month anniversary is coming up. You lovers have something planned?" Brad, a jock that Eddie found himself liking.

"Of course, I got it all planned. A special evening for my special girl." Eddie said, his arm thrown over her shoulder as he squished her against him.

She blushed under his arm and loved that he was planning something special for her.

"You two make me sick, but a beauty like her deserves the best" Brad joked as he walked off with his weed. The couple laughed and watched him go.

"I need to go to the bathroom, be right back," Y/N said, she stood up and went to walk away but Eddie grabbed her arm. He turned her around and pulled her down to his lips.

"Forget something?" He smirked as he looked up at her liquor-coated lips. She smiled and leaned in, pressing her lips against his.

He hummed at the beer on her lips and tried to sneak his tongue into her mouth but she pulled away.

"Bathroom," She laughed, giving him a soft peck before she left.

Eddie found himself staring as she walked away, completely captivated by her. From her swaying pony and hips, he couldn't look away.

"Pretty girl you got there," a voice said

"I kn-Becca!" Eddie said as he turned around. He was surprised to see Becca sitting across from him with a smirk on her red lips.

"Eddie," she greeted

Eddie wiped his hands against his jeans as he felt his palms sweat.

"How can I help you?" He kept his voice confident but he was shaking on the inside.

"Do you know a lot about cars?" She asked, she crossed her arms causing her breasts to pop. Eddie tried not to look but then she leaned over the table and he looked down. She smirked as she saw his eyes move down.

"Eyes are up here," she teased. Eddie gulped and snapped his eyes back to her face. Now noticing she was closer than before.

"I..uh...I know some about cars." Eddie stuttered

"Think you could help me?"

~

Y/N walked back to the table but found it empty. Eddie carelessly left his lunchbox of drugs unattended. She sat down and went through the box to make sure none of it was missing.

~

Eddie closed the hood of the car and wiped his dirty hands on his jeans.

"Should be as good as new," Eddie said with a smile

"Thank you! How can I repay you?" she batted her eyelashes as she stood in front of him. He backed up until he was against her car and her body was pressed against his.

"No need," he said, he looked down at her lips as she leaned in.

"Maybe just a kiss? As a thank you?" she whispered against his lips, he shivered as he felt her breath. He spent years pining after this girl, and she was throwing herself at him.

Eddie was lost for words, instead letting his actions talk. He wrapped his hand around her neck and brought her lips to his. It wasn't a gentle or loving kiss. It was hungry and desperate. Her hands ran up and down his chest, as their tongues moved against each other. He kept his tongue in her mouth as he turned them around. Pressing her against the car as he lifted her leg to wrap around his waist.

Her hands went under her shirt, and her nails scratched down his stomach. He shivered from her touch and melted into her body. She lit him on fire in a way he had never felt before.

~

Y/N began to get worried when Eddie still hadn't returned. She finished off his deals and packed up. She zipped up his jacket and began to walk around the backyard to see if she could find him.

With no luck, she went inside the house. She swore she checked every room.

"Looking for someone?" Eddie said in her ear. She jumped as he appeared behind her. His eyes were dark, almost lust-filled and his hair was a mess.

"Yeah, you! Where did you go? And why is your hair so messy?" she laughed as she started to fix his hair.

"Helped a client with their car," Eddie said as he showed her his dirty hands.

"Well, that is very sweet of you. But next time don't leave the goodies around the bears unattended." she teased as she handed him his lunchbox.

"Always looking out for me," Eddie cooed as he patted her head.

She giggled and swatted away his hand.

"Let's go get some real food," Eddie said as he laced his fingers with hers.

They walked outside and headed to his van. He opened her door and closed it behind her. He walked to his side and looked towards the house. He smirked when he saw Becca wink and blow a kiss before she walked in.

~~~

After that party, Eddie couldn't get Becca out of his head. He was still in shock that he made out with her and dry-humped against her car. The dirty images never left his head as he jerked himself off to it every other night.

He wanted her

He craved her

And he needed her

But did she want him?

~~~

It was another party night and Eddie was working on his deals. To his delight, Becca took the seat across from him.

"Where's your girl?" Becca asked, her eyes were on Eddie all night and she didn't see Y/N anywhere.

"She's with her friends tonight."

"So, you are here alone?"

"I am, why do you ask?" Eddie asked

"Meet me in the bathroom and find out." She said as she stood up.

~

Eddie tossed and turned in bed that night. He felt conflicted. He cheated on his girlfriend twice, and even went as far as hooking up with someone else in a bathroom, and he didn't feel guilty.

He felt like he should, but he knew if it happened again, he'd pick the same route. He'd pick to have Becca wrapped around him as he watched her in the mirror. Becca was his dream girl and now that he had a taste, he couldn't give her up.

He thought about the offer Becca gave him. He had the opportunity to be with Becca, but he would have to break up with his girlfriend.

Would Becca be worth it?

~~~

"What did you want to talk about?" Y/N asked as Eddie sat on her bed. She felt a little nervous because it was uncommon for Eddie to call and ask to talk about something.

"I cheated on you," he said it so easily, it ran off his tongue like he said it many times before.

"When?" she whispered, it hurt to look at him so she stared at his hands. She could feel the tears building and she wasn't in control of when they'd flow freely.

"Last night, at a party."

Y/N didn't want to know anything more. She reached over and grabbed his hand. Eddie looked at her confused. He thought she'd scream and smack him.

"Well, I mean it was just a mistake, right? I know you get drunk at parties and we can move past this. We can fix it." She said with a small smile. She was dying on the inside but the love for Eddie was too much to leave behind.

"No," he said as he unlaced their hands. She watched confused as he stood up. "I cheated on you and you want to fix this?"

"I kissed someone else, I mean I fucked her in a bathroom! And you want to fix this?" She wasn't sure why he was getting angry with her. If anyone should have been mad it was her.

"Please can we just not talk about it? You were drunk and it was a mistake."

"I WASN'T DRUNK! I CHEATED BECAUSE I WANTED TO, NOT BECAUSE OF ALCOHOL OR DRUGS. I WANTED TO" Eddie screamed, he was breathing heavily as she wiped the tears from her face.

"Sit down and let's talk it out then, okay?" she offered. She was weak and all she wanted was him. She cried as she begged him with her eyes.

"No, answer me, why do you want to fix this? Why do you have faith in this?"

"Why don't you?" she asked, "why don't you want to fix this? Why won't you even apologize!" She said, she stood up and went toe to toe with him.

"Because I don't want to be with you anymore," he admitted. It felt like a knife went straight through her chest. "Because I'm not in love with you." He yanked out the knife to watch her bleed all over the floor.

"I HATE YOU!" she screamed, all the hurt she felt she used as she banged against his chest. She sobbed and sobbed and he just stood there. "I DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU, WHY WASN'T IT ENOUGH?" she shoved his chest and he tumbled backward a little. "WHY WHY WHY WHY" she kept pushing him until he grabbed her arms.

"BECAUSE YOU AREN'T HER AND YOU NEVER WILL BE" he screamed in her face, his grip tight on her arms as she tried to wiggle them free.

She was choking on her own sobs as she tried to get air in her lungs

"But I love you," she cried as she looked up to him.

"But I don't. I'm sorry," he whispered as he let go of her arms.

"Get out," she spat, her tears turned hot as anger was lashing out of her body. "Take your stupid gift and never come near me again. I hate you and I hope she breaks your pathetic little heart like you did mine."

She yanked open her closet and dug around for his gift. It was in a box that was wrapped so he didn't know what it was. She shoved it into his chest, hard.

"I don't want this," he said as he tried to give it back

"I have no use for it and I don't want the reminder of you." she spat as she shoved it back. "Now get THE FUCK OUT!"

Eddie tucked the gift under his arm and walked out. Her bedroom door slammed behind him and her sobs somehow grew louder the further he walked away.

~~~

Eddie and Becca had been sneaking around for two months. The first month was everything Eddie dreamed it would be. But he quickly realized being with Becca was different than dreaming of being with her.

He kept holding on to the hope it would feel as good as it was in the first month. But he had a feeling there wouldn't be a change.

~

"Hellfire again? You went last week." Becca complained.

"It is a weekly thing, Becca. You knew this." Eddie sighed as he leaned against her locker.

The hallway was empty so Becca allowed them to talk, otherwise the fight would happen in the back of his van.

"Whatever, if you want to do that instead of hanging out with your girlfriend then whatever." she snapped as she marched off.

Eddie smacked his head against the locker, in moments like this he couldn't help but think of Y/N. She was supportive of Hellfire and even sat in on a few sessions. He thought about how she'd sit on his lap and read ahead. She'd gasp at the spoilers ahead and whisper in his ear about her thoughts.

It was actions like that Eddie realized what being loved felt like.

He didn't feel loved by Becca at all.

~~~

"Remember, don't talk to me if other people are around," Becca said as Eddie parked his van a block away from the party. Becca didn't like to arrive together or be seen leaving together.

"Would it be the end of the world to be seen with me?" Eddie scoffed as he got out of the van.

"End of my social life, yeah."

~

Eddie sat on the couch as he watched the party around him. He watched the couples dance and sloppily make out like no one was around. He used to be one of them. He used to be happy like that.

He watched as Becca talked with her friends, not once looking towards him. He almost felt like she only liked Eddie because he was with someone else.

~

"So, prom is next week. What time should I pick you up?" Eddie asked as he drove both of them to his trailer.

"Why would you pick me up?" Becca laughed as she turned to look at him.

"We've been dating for almost three months so I figured we could go together and tell people about us," Eddie explained

"Why? Because you said so? We never talked about going public. And there is no way I'd ever go to prom with you."

"Will you ever admit to being with me?" Eddie asked, he felt like he already knew the answer.

"Eddie, we are having fun. It's not like either of us expects to go the long run and marry each other. Why ruin what we have?"

Because he ruined everything for her and now he regretted it.

~~~

It was the night before prom and Eddie called it quits with Becca. If the relationship taught him anything, it was that he did love Y/N. He fell in love the whole time but couldn't recognize it.

Eddie knocked on the door and waited for her to open it.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, she kept the space between the door small to remind him he wasn't welcomed in.

"To admit how wrong I was." Eddie confessed, Y/N tried to fight the urge to roll her eyes. "I thought I wasn't in love with you and I figured after six months I should have known. But once you were gone, I realized everything I felt was already love. I was an idiot and I'm so sorry."

"Eddie..."

"I know. I fucked up. I took everything we had and ruined it for my own selfish reasons. I regret everything and I regret how I broke it off with you. I never should have cheated. You were enough and you are perfect. I learned that there isn't anyone better than you and the love you gave me is something I'd never feel from anyone else. I don't know why you loved me, but you did. And I took it for granted. I'm sorry for everything."

"What do you truly want Eddie?" Y/N sighed. She was glad she finally got the apology she deserved but she didn't know if it was enough to erase all the pain he caused. All the shame she felt and the heartbreak.

"I want to make this up to you. I want to go to prom with you and show you off. You deserve to have the magical night you've been dreaming about." Eddie said, he felt hopeful as it seemed she was thinking about it.

Then she smiled and nodded. "I'd like that. I'll see you tomorrow Eddie."

Eddie smiled as she closed the door.

Maybe there was hope after all.

~~~

Eddie pulled up to her house at the time she gave. He was dressed in his suit and it walked up to her door.

He held flowers in one hand and knocked with the other.

But no one came to the door. He knocked again and then a few times more. He set down the flowers, and walked around the house to look through the windows. Everything was dark and he couldn't see anything.

Eddie walked back to his van and headed off to the school. Maybe he was meant to meet her at prom?

~

Eddie pulled up to the dance and walked in. He searched around for Y/N. He wasn't sure what she was wearing so he had to really look at faces and hair.

He saw Becca and went the opposite direction. Still ashamed for how caught up he got in her.

Eddie sighed in relief when he saw Brad, "Hey, have you seen Y/N?"

"Why do you ask?" Brad asked, Eddie was taken back from the glare Brad sent his way.

"Why does it matter? Have you seen her or not?" Eddie snapped.

"It matters because you're asking where my date is." Brad argued, he crossed his arms and looked down at Eddie. Eddie didn't want to shrink down, but he did. Brad was one of the big jocks, even though he was friendly, he had no problem tearing someone apart.

"Wait, she's your date?" Eddie was confused. Just last night she said yes to him. "When did you ask?"

"Last month, you know when you were still chasing Becca like a lost puppy? You weren't the only one who moved on, Munson." Brad said, he patted Eddie's shoulder in a mocking way with a smirk and walked off.

Eddie was consumed with so much anger. And he wasn't leaving until he talked to her. Eddie followed behind Brad, figuring he would lead him to her.

And he was right.

Eddie watched as she smiled happily as Brad leaned down and kissed her lips. She looked beautiful. She was in a black dress with dashes of red, and Brad's tie matched her perfectly. She truly planned on going with Brad all along.

"WHAT THE HELL!" Eddie yelled as he grabbed her arm to yank her away from Brad.

Brad got protective fast, shoving Eddie's hands off of her and getting in his face.

"I got this, babe. Just two minutes?" Y/N said, she leaned up and pecked Brad's cheek and he nodded. He gave them some space but he watched from afar in case he needed to step in.

"What kind of game is this? You said yes but you are all cosy with fucking Brad?" Eddie spat. But she didn't back down. She got as close to his face as she could as she clenched her jaw.

"Hurts to be lied to and led on, doesn't it?" She smirked as the words worked their way through Eddie's head.

"We were done the second you walked out and I meant it. I would say I'm sorry but I'm really not. You cheated and you didn't want me. I found someone who did and someone who doesn't care that I'm not a cheerleader. Someone who wasn't afraid to end up with me because he didn't feel like he was missing out on someone else. Bye, Eddie." She said then turned around.

Eddie watched as she grabbed Brad's hand and they walked away. Eddie couldn't help but feel tears building in his eyes. He ran out of the school and jumped in his van. He cried as he bashed his hands against the steering wheel. It was all his fault and he hated that. He hated that he had everything in the palm of his hands and he wanted more.

He always wanted more.

He angrily ripped off his jacket and threw it in the back, he heard it land on a box and he turned around. The gift she gave was still untouched.

He reached behind him and grabbed it. He tore it open and whatever was left of his heart snapped all over again.

A scrapbook of all their memories in one place. Each page was a reminder of who he lost, the love he lost.

Now he was alone with nothing but regret.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[chilschuck]

Chilchuck is canonically very warm and perfect cuddle size! Izutsumi uses him as a cuddle buddy/sleep partner for this (he got annoyed and tried to send her to someone else, but after trying all the other members and Laios petting her, Chilchuck had her come back and accepted his life as a cat bed. he is a Dad through and through.)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ EVERY TIME I THINK ABOUT HOW CANONICALLY CUDDLY HE IS I MELT. WAHHHH ANON i think about this so much. also him accepting his life as a cat bed and just being so Dad about it makes me insane. like i said earlier this man is detrimental to my health. speaking of this!!! here’s some thoughts hehe

— CHILCHUCK: cuddle hcs.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw fluff + gn!reader.

✦ If you’re a cold-natured person, Chilchuck is a blessing to have. You already knew he was apparently very warm due to how much Izutsumi enjoys seeking him out, so you let your thoughts wonder. The first time you asked to share his bedroll with him, you couldn’t help but be amused at his reaction. (To say you caught him off-guard was an understatement.)

✦ After he recovered from his coughing spell at your request, he flustered. Great, so now he’s becoming the party’s new teddy bear? No thanks. But then you made that expression that always made him weak in the knees and chest and gods. He bites his tongue, letting out a defeated sigh. Maybe just this once. You did tend to get cold a lot…

✦ If you’re a tall-man, (or just have a height advantage over him, lol) you wonder what it would be like to hold him similar to how Izutsumi does. Sleeping with him so closely means odds are one of you is going to end up pulling the other in. Being the taller one, you find yourself curling up with him nuzzled into your chest. I can imagine he’s reluctant at first, but when he finally lets himself relax, he melts.

✦ If you’re a half-foot like he is, or without that height advantage, he’s the big spoon. Either that, or you end up burying yourself into his neck to steal his warmth. I can imagine Chilchuck likes to feel like a protector when it comes to you, as he’s used to having people’s lives on his shoulders. But one night, make him be the little spoon, telling him you just want to hold him for once. (Watch the high curve of his ears turn pink, lol.)

✦ Chilchuck comes to expect you cuddling with him every night. It comes time for the party to retire and he’s already subconsciously lifting his blanket for you to join him. Point it out one day and he’s sputtering out excuses with rosy cheeks. Gods, don’t think so hard about it. You’re cold, aren’t you? You’ll probably hear him grumble a good bit.

✦ He’s very mindful you’re there with him. Last thing he wants is to be a lackluster cuddle partner. And to accidentally make you stop coming to his bedroll.

✦ Probably the deepest sleep he’s gotten in a while. You just make him feel so relaxed, and the physical touch and affection is something he’s been craving for so long. Don’t expect him to admit that to you, though.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

[lialacleaf]

A Touch Too Personal

Chapter 1

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You had a crush on Ghost since you started working for Price in communications, but the gruff, reserved Lieutenant only acknowledged your existence on the job. That starts to change with a simple, thoughtful gift.

Warnings: Fluff, Simon is bad at processing emotions, past trauma

Chapter 2

You cared deeply about every single one of your teammates. It didn’t matter that you were sitting in an office talking to them over the radio, you were still providing them with intel and directions that kept them alive.

They were like a second family, and so Task Force 141 slowly began to feel like having a lot of older brothers.

Johnny was your go to partner in crime when it came to making mischief, and you knew he was always down for a good prank.

Kyle on the other hand was good for having deep conversations and was the one you always went to for advice.

Ghost…well ghost was a bit different. Your feelings towards him weren’t exactly that of a sibling. Maybe it was because he was more reserved than the others, a mystery or puzzle that you couldn’t quite figure out, but you couldn’t help but feel warm inside on the rare occasion that his intense gaze did linger on you.

Which lead to your current dilemma.

Every time you went home, you made sure to bring one of the boys a gift when you returned to base.

Being that Price was like a father figure, you brought him a handcrafted mug from your hometown’s local pottery festival. Soap had gotten a pocket knife with his call sign engraved on it, and Gaz had received a baseball cap with a hand stitched 141 on the side in his favorite color.

However, now it was Ghost’s turn, and you were at a loss. What would he even like to have? You knew he had an array of tactical gear, you’d seen him knit pick through it on occasion, but you didn’t know enough about working in the field to know kind of tools he’d like. He had so many knives already, that it felt redundant to get him another.

What on earth were you supposed to give this man?

“Maybe you could make this Ghost fella something yourself?” Your mother suggested as you sat in your parents living room to ponder the issue.

Your mother liked Ghost’s nickname, and laughed whenever you brought it up. You could only assume she was picturing a little boy in a Scream costume, and you had to admit that was a little funny. Ghost was the only one to not have shared his real name with you, and thus always ended up being teased by your family, not that he was aware of that.

“Like what?” You asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m stopping by the craft store, how about you come with me instead of sulking in the living room?”

~

You watched your mother peruse through the holiday decorations and shook your head. That woman was amassing quite the Christmas village collection.

You wandered through the store with dwindling hope until you saw it. It was in the fabric section that you found the most perfect pattern for your Lieutenant.

The fabric had a black background, with white Ghosts all over it. You picked up the roll with a brilliant smile on your face, and ran over to one of the fabric department employees.

“I need some of this,” you said, giddy and bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“How much do you want?” The woman asked, preparing her scissors.

Ghost was a pretty large man, and you took a moment to think about just how much fabric you were going to need.

“Uhhh, a lot.”

~

“Lass! How was the family?” Johnny asked, pulling you in for a tight hug as you pulled your luggage into your room on base.

“It was good, ate a lot, took my cousins shooting, family stuff,” you said with a grin. “I gotta show you something,” you insisted, pulling him inside your room.

“Oh? What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“You know how I always bring back a surprise?” You began, a grin on your face.

“Who’s the lucky winner?” He chucked.

“You tell me.” You beamed at him as you pulled out the larger than life knot-tie blanket you’d made, and Johnny’s jaw dropped.

“You did not!” He gasped, chuckling at he inspected it. One side was the Ghost fabric you’d found, and the other was made from the softest army green material you could find. In the top corner. You’d stitched in a small British Flag patch, and each corner has a sandbag sewn in.“You made him a bloody weighted blanket? What gave you that idea?” He asked.

“We’ll I couldn’t find anything I thought he’d like at first, but then I saw the fabric and it just fell together so perfectly!”

“Oh man, I would kill to see his reaction to this,” Johnny said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

“You say that like we ever get to see his reaction to anything,” you stated. You’d never actually seen him without some sort of face covering.

Johnny tisked softly and shrugged. “Alright, you got me there,” he admitted. “He’s in his room now, probably as good a time as any.”

You couldn’t help but grin broadly. “Perfect.”

~

You felt a lump form in your throat as you approached Ghost’s door. You knew it was just the nerves that came along with your little crush on the Lieutenant, but it still made the task at hand a little daunting.

You took a deep breath, knocking softly on the door. Maybe you should have wrapped it for him. What if he didn’t like it? How were you supposed to react if he just brushed you off.

The door opened before you could rethink your decision. It always came as a shock how large Ghost was, no matter how many times you stood mask to face.

“You’re back.”

You felt your heart rate spike. He had noticed you were gone? Had noticed you? Of course he had noticed, it was his job to notice, it didn’t mean anything.

“Yeah,” you said, waiting for him to ask how your trip was, or if you were glad to be back. He didn’t.

“I got you something!” You said suddenly, holding the folded blanket out to him, and his entire body seemed to freeze. He stared at it for a moment or two, as if he were slowly processing the object.

“What is it?”

Your smile faltered. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he inspected it as if it were some kind of trick. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he took it carefully from your hands.

“Where’d you get it?”

Shit, he hates it.

“I- Uhm. I made it,” you admitted, your cheeks blazing. This was stupid. You were stupid.

He looked between you and the blanket in his hands, and nodded. “Thanks,” he said before stepping back into his room and closing the door.

You pressed your lips together firmly in an attempt to not start bawling. You walked off on shaky legs, taking deep breaths. At least he hadn’t told you he didn’t want it.

~

Simon sat on his bed, his thumb brushed over the small flag patched into the corner of the blanket. The fact that you had made him a gift by hand had his stomach in knots. He knew about your little gift tradition with the rest of 141, but he hadn’t expected to be included, nor did he expected you’d go to such trouble. The two of you weren’t even very close.

He swallowed thickly as tears pricked his eyes. This was the nicest thing any teammate had ever given him.

He brought the fabric to his face and gave it a deep whiff. It smelled fresh, like laundry detergent. You must have washed it before you gave it to him.

Simon spread the blanket carefully over his cot, admiring how the fabric felt against his hands. It didn’t catch on his calloused fingers, and wasn’t too fluffy.

It was large too, as if you’d taken his massive size into account. He was certain he could easily caving himself in it. His bottom lip wobbled slightly, and it was an effort to hold his tears at bay.

That night, Simon slept soundly, wrapped in your carefully crafted gift, and you were the only thing on his mind.

AN: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

[haikyu-mp4]

Yoga partner

word count; 667 – pregnant!reader

You were a few months pregnant and every time you felt like you were adjusting to the size of your bump, it seemed to get bigger. When you found out you were pregnant, your husband, Bokuto Koutarou, had been moved to tears and there was no lack of support from him so far through the pregnancy. That’s why you weren’t afraid to communicate your troubles to him as they started plaguing your mind.

As it got more difficult to adjust to your body changing, the two of you sat down to research pregnancy activities. And then Koutarou got bored of researching, so he ended up asking someone on the team who had kids instead.

That’s how he learnt about pregnancy yoga. There were classes specifically for pregnant women, and in his excitement, Koutarou had signed you up and encouraged you to go. However, now he was looking at you with a subtle pout as you leaned on the kitchen island, not feeling as sporty as you wished you did.

“I don’t want to go. What if all the others are used to it and do super well while I can barely do anything?” you complained, pouting right back at him. This made him huff, resting his arms on his hips. Then his eyes lit up again. Oh no, an idea.

“Maybe I should go with you!”

Next thing you knew, Koutarou was helping you out of the car, adorned in the gym wear he had that most resembled yours in colour. You were laughing softly, holding his hand as he babbled about how excited he was.

When you walked inside, your laughter died down as you scanned the room. A lot of moms-to-be were staring cautiously, first at you and then at your husband who smiled and waved. You felt the anxiety creep back into you as you whispered your husband's name to alert him, but he took no notice.

“Hello, ladies! Ready for a good workout?” he called out, and it didn’t take long before the moms melted for his personality (and looks probably, but you tried to ignore that for now). In the end, he wasn’t allowed inside the class because of the women's comfort, but he gave everyone encouraging high fives while the trainer led them inside the little gym. Before closing the door behind you as you were last, you turned to him and pulled his shirt down so you could kiss him fiercely.

“That’s for being such a perfect man. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Koutarou was thrilled to see the glow back in your cheeks when you came back out. He had gone for a jog around the neighbourhood but made sure he was back before you finished. When you walked out of the class, you were conversing happily with another woman before bidding her goodbye. You made new friends! Even though you were still shy, you had asked to exchange numbers.

All of this was possible because your husband encouraged and supported you. You truly were blessed to have him and he reminded you every day how lucky you were through this constant support.

Now you even bring him into the living room at least once a week so the two of you can do pregnancy yoga by following some videos you found on YouTube. It’s great fun and Koutarou proudly documents it in the workout journal they fill out for their trainer.

7 pm Pregnancy yoga

Iwaizumi tilted his head at him curiously after looking over this month’s notes. “You’re not supposed to write your wife’s workouts.”

“We’re doing them at home now, too. Feel like it’s doing great things for my bum,” he answered, one hand on each asscheek for emphasis. Iwaizumi already regretted asking about it. Atsumu slapped one of Koutarou's hands off from behind him before staring at his butt and humming.

“Not bad. Maybe we should all do it.”

To say the least, Koutarou is very dedicated to being with you every step of the way.

masterlist

[maplebellsmods]

Expanded Storytelling Relationship Bits Mod

I'm so excited about this! Revamp your Sims' relationships and unlock a world of storytelling possibilities with Custom Relationship Bits!

Whenever I play the game I always wanted to be able to visually see how each relationship was different so I thought it would be a great idea to add more relationship bits in the game. 

I don't know if I am the only one who loves to open the Sim Info Panel and look at the different relationship descriptions between sims. Gone are the days of generic labels like "Friend" or "Romantic Interest." With Custom Relationship Bits, you can now give your Sims personalized and meaningful relationship titles that reflect their unique connections. From "Childhood Sweetheart" to "Love-Hate Relation" and a lot more, the possibilities are endless. 

This mod is perfect for storytellers who want more depth and nuance in their Sims' relationships. Some of the custom relationship titles add depth to your Sims' interactions and help to shape their narratives. 

You can access the relationship bit option my pressing on the target sim while you are in control of the sim with whom you want to set the relationship by clicking on actions and then the Enhanced Rel Bit Pie Menu. 

Above you can see all of the possible relationship bits you can choose from. They also each have their own description. (The Secret Admirer Rel Bit is the only one-sided bit)

Some of the relationship bits have interactions that come with them. I would love to make more and expand on them but I don't know if this is something you would be interested in so let me know. 

More about some of the interactions:

Travel to Visit Long Distance Partner will have your sim leave the house for about two days and return with possible different moodlets.

With the virtual date option your sim will video call their long-distance partner for a few hours and it will make them really happy.

Star-crossed lovers can share a forbidden kiss. And sims who have a love-hate relationship can share an "I hate you"(kiss).

That is all for this mod! A lot of it is cosmetic, But I think it can really help relationships between sims feel more distinct. 

Does this mod require any DLC?

No, it does not.

What else do I need for the mod?

Lumpinou's Mood Pack Mod, so it is required for the mod to work properly.

You can get her mod here.

If you already have it great! But make sure it's up to date. Otherwise, it will break the UI

Maplebell Pie Menu: Download Below. If you already have it ignore. 

More Kisses Mod here. If you don't intend on using the kissing interactions you don't need to get it.

Questions and concerns you might have?

I want to remove the relationship bit

After you set the relationship bit an option to remove it will appear in the same pie menu.

Some interactions aren't showing

The interactions depend on the relationship bit you may have with a sim. For example, only sims who have had a summer romance can "Share Summer Memories. Only Study Buddies can quiz each other, only long-distance relationship simmers can have virtual dates etc...

I'm experiencing some weird bugs!

Let me know, please.

Report it here: Mod Bug Report

Public: 18/06/23

Download

[myntrose]

ೃ⁀➷partners in crime ︻デ═一

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾────────────────────────────────☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

ft: Alastor x gn! reader

summary: It's another night at the hotel. Everyone is lounging around the shared space, or sitting at the bar. With a boost of confidence (and a few drinks) Angel finally asks the burning question everyone had : How did you and Alastor meet?

cw: demi! Alastor, established relationship(married), Alastor and reader meet when they were alive, reader is an assassin , killing and mild gore (it's alastor yall), a lot of petnames, no use of y/n, no beta we die like men

a/n: it's the way alastor got me smiling and kicking my feet. he got me to break my 1 year hiatus LMAO. also, I am aware that he's ace. I myself am somewhere along the demi spectrum, so this fic is purely for comfort n coping. if you don't like it, pls ignore :,D

wc: 1.5 k (1,469 words)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾────────────────────────────────☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

The hotel common was filled with low gentle music and idle chatter. Vaggie and Charlie were on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. Nifty was running around chasing some poor roach. Even Cherri was here, with Sir Pentious attempting to flirt with her once again.

Husk was behind the bar, in ordinary fashion. Although he was mostly listening and doing his job, he would occasionally chide into the conversation the other two residents at the hotel were having. Angel was in the middle of telling you about how much of a headache Val was, while you gave him you condolences. It seemed like the only person missing was the radio demon himself, who was probably in his tower, making a new broadcast.

"Speakin of which..." Angel, who noticed Alastor's lack of presence, noted "I got a question for ya toots. How is it that tall, red and creepy managed to bag you as a partner? You're sweet and all, I get that. But how did you even meet-"

The loud slam of drinks caused the peace within the hotel to halt . Husk shoots a stern glare towards Angel, almost to warn him, be cautious about asking question's about Alastor and his darling, you never know if he's listening.

"It's alright, Husk" You send him a sincere smile. While he would never trust your husband, he can't help but believe your words.

"Well, Angel, let's start with this. If you've ever wondered why I'm down here in the first place, it's because of the occupation I had when I was alive. That's actually how I met Alastor."

Oh, maybe you were a thief and were trying to steal something from Alastor. Or maybe a detective that was on the case to solve his murders. Or maybe-

"I was hired to assassinate one of his targets."

oh.

You couldn't help but laugh at Angels' reaction. Sure, you were kind to those in the hotel, and definitely not as threatening as most overlords. He, and most people you met in Hell, just assumed you committed some mundane crime and got the unfortunate eternal punishment .

Taking a small sip of your drink, you start to recollect the unforgettable night that would define your current relationship.

It was supposed to be like any other job that you were given. Your employer would hand you a file, you would find the target, and get paid in return. Maybe it wasn't the most ethical way to make money, but hey, you knew how to kill so you made it work.

You had followed your target into the bar, while waiting away in the corner. Though your eyes were focused on them the entire night, you couldn't help but feel another pair of eyes on you.

It was probably some random patron in the bar, you guessed. It wasn't for another hour when you noticed that your target had left the vicinity.

The streets were dark, with the occasional street light every block or so. It was perfect place to finish your job. All you needed was for your target to turn into some alleyway, and as quietly as you followed him, you'd quietly go for the kill-

Quietly. Hold on, why was it so quite?

Looking up the street, you noticed that what was once where your target stood was now empty. There was no way he outran you, given that you would have heard his footsteps. To the right of you were the woods, maybe he took a detour?

No, everything felt wrong. Every single thought in your brain was screaming to run, to grab your gun that was hidden beneath your coat, to get out of here-

"Careful my dear, we wouldn't want you getting hurt now, would we?"

A cold blade found its way to your neck. Two very disturbing facts became known to you. First, was the fact that the blade was already stained red. And second, you were about to be the second kill of the night.

A million thoughts ran through your mind. Was this how you were going to die? How fast could you grab your gun? Would your employer be pissed off that you died in the job? With your eyes shut closed, you waited for the knife to make contact.

"Now now, there's no need to be so scared my dear! My, you look like a deer in headlights!"

...what?

Opening your eyes, you're met with the mysterious man who just had his weapon on you seconds ago. He seemed vaguely familiar, probably having seen him at the bar you frequent.

"It seems that I've caused you quite a scare. Do know that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to see for myself this new assassin I've heard so much about! You've caused quite the gossip, my dear. Makes good conservation."

You continued to stand in silence, with the initial shock of almost dying wearing off now. As mad as you were that you got caught, you were equally confused on just who this man was. With some more listening to his voice, the answer popped into your mind.

"You- you're that new radio host! Alastor, was it?"

Alastor's smile grew at the acknowledgment. "Indeed I am! Glad to know you've heard about me."'

Had anyone walked into the conversation you two were having, they would have assumed it was one between new acquaintances. In which one has a knife in their hand, while the other has a gun.

"You see, my dear, I've heard quite a bit about your line if work. While I am more than capable of... dealing with others, I propose that we work out some sort of deal. One where you can finally stop working for that employer of yours, and actually make a profit off your talents."

Alastor put out a hand, waiting, watching to see how you'd respond. It's been a long night for you, and you had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time you saw. Plus, if working with him meant you'd finally have to stop answering to your boss, then why the hell not. You take his hand, before agreeing to this proposition.

"...and since then, we've been business partners. Our relationship kind of just happened after a few moths."

It was nice to look back to when you first met your now-husband. Looking around the bar, you noticed that you weren't just talking to Angel. At some point, unbeknownst to you, everyone at the hotel had come over to listen to your story time.

"Well toots, I figured you had to be some sort of crazy to date smiles, but I guess it takes one to know one." Angels says while taking a shot, still reeling with that fact that someone as kind as you was a killer. Head nods and murmurs of agreement spread within the group.

Before you could say anything, a pool of dark clouds appeared to your side. From the shadows, the very man you were taking about stood before you.

"Hey, Al."

He faces you with his signature grin, before turning to the rest of the residents.

"It seems that I've became the topic of conversion while I was gone! It's quite interesting to see how interested you all are in with me and my dear's meeting."

The hint of annoyance in his voice was entertaining, to say the least. You place a hand on his shoulder, barely hovering above it.

"Aww, come of Al! They just wanted to hear how we first met! Besides, it's a fun story to tell."

"If "fun" means almost killing ya for the first time, I'd hate to know what you guys did when you started dating-" "Shut up Angel!"

You answer a few questions that were asked before everyone eventually returned back to their previous endeavors. Husk and Angel eventually sit around with the others in the common room, leaving just you and Alastor at the bar.

"It's kinda funny, now that I look back at it."

Alastor doesn't say anything, promoting you to continue.

"That night, I almost turned down that job. I was painfully tired, and all I wanted to do was go home. It's crazy to think that we wouldn't have met had I not pushed myself to take the job."

Anyone who knew Alastor would know that him asking for a partnership was simply outlandish. Hell, Alastor himself questioned why he was seeking you out in the first place.

No, underneath he knew. He knew from the first time he saw you. It was a different time from when you both officially met. When he saw you, someone so seemingly innocent, skillfully take down a man twice your size, he knew that he had to meet you.

"Well, mon chéri, it's good that you did."

[letruyuread]

Little thoughts about about Twisted Wonderland characters and you (yuu)

Riddle loves having the first slice of tarts, strawberry ones especially. So I think that, for holidays or even if you're just feeling down, he gives you the first slice of his strawberry tart. No explanation, please don't mention it- you'll fluster the poor boy. But it means a lot to him, and he secretly hopes you understand that.

Yes, Ace is a teasing prick, most of the time, anyways. But the second anyone brings up how he might possibly feel for you? Absolute tsundere. Denying it to the high heavens. Insults you a lot, too. "How could I ever like the perfect?! They're so- so-" Yeah, no one's falling for it. Give him time. He'll get comfortable with the idea soon enough, and then you have a whole other problem.

Deuce loves to talk to his mom about you. Rants about you- the incredible magic-less human that stole his heart (No, get out of here Ace-). You don't even care that he used to be a delinquent! How amazing is that? His mom is overjoyed that her son met someone who sounds so nice and keeps trying to give him advice to ask you out. She also tries to convince him to bring you home during break- you're not even dating yet.

Cater, of course, posts about you on his Magicam. It's the usual- oh, they're so pretty today, look my partner gave me food 😍. But there are also things he doesn't post, surprisingly. He doesn't post the picture he took of you, laughing against the sunset. That one's private. Too perfectly you to be seen by everyone. No, that's just a moment for the two of you, he thinks.

Trey loves baking you things, baking with you, but he always finds himself flustered when you bake something for him. He taught you the recipe, he remembers, a few weeks ago, and here you are standing with a small platter of cookies. Some are burnt, some taste a bit salty (you didn't add the oyster sauce... right?) and yet he eats them all and loves them because you made them. For him.

Leona, I think, takes very good care of his hair. It was worse before he came to Night Raven, his attendants tried to take care of it, but he always managed to hide away (he was taking a nap). On the first day, though, Vil couldn't stand such a pretty face with such horrid care and taught Leona a routine. Leona now follows that routine strictly. He takes pride in it, as much as his smarts and strength. You know he's having a bad day when it's unkempt and tangled. You also know how much he trusts you when he teaches you the routine, when he lets you help him with it on those bad days or weeks or maybe months.

Ruggie gives you things. It's always random- a bit of his food, a dandelion in the field, a ribbon floating in the wind. He grew up with little- so naturally, he hoards everything he can get his hands on and keeps it for himself. One day he might need it, or his grandma, or the kids in his neighborhood. He's very protective of his growing stash. So when he gives you these things, it's him telling you that you're part of his family now. Ask for anything, he'll find it. Just like he would for the people back home.

Jack adopts a lot of cacti (I nearly spelled cactuses) with you- very silly, right? A lot of cacti. He waters them appropriately, a strict schedule for each, and keeps them at Ramshackle dorm. You have a whole room for them, very bright from large windows and only tables for the plants to be placed on. It's common in his family that you only have one person, your whole life, to stick by. He's hoping it's you- he's hoping you'll fall for him if he keeps coming around, day by day, taking care of your plant children (plant army).

(oh God there's so many but Im on a roll)

Azul, Azul... Oh boy. He really wants you to make a contact with him. Doesn't matter what kind- you want it, you'll get it (even if you don't agree to his offer, honestly). He always seems to want the same thing, though: (no it's not marriage) a friend. That's what he says, that's not really what's in the contract, though. The exact wording is 'companion.' Someone to talk to, someone to trust. Someone who calls his merform pretty and him intelligent. Someone who doesn't make him feel insecure.

Floyd. What do to with you? He's very touchy. Very touchy. Once, he skipped all his classes and just grabbed onto you, having you carry him around on your back and not letting you go. Yes, he put a spell on himself to make him light as a feather, no one could carry that tall of an eel. He's very clingy and doesn't understand how he feels about you. It confuses him, he has no clue what this is, he just knows he wants to be around you and why shouldn't he be?

Jade knows. You have weekly tea parties. Don't worry, everything's free of charge... Except that, you have to pay for that. Oh, you didn't bring any money? Well, a kiss would do, but... Oh, no, that was a joke. Please don't look so worried. Jade may know what he feels for you, but he's still working out how to deal with it. The twins kind of never thought this would happen.

Kalim is such a sweetheart! Give him all the love in the world, he'll reciprocate tenfold! Whatever you want. He can buy it, if not, his family has the connections to get it, surely. But don't be mistaken- he'll adore you if you make something for him. If he can, he'll always have it on him. Plus, he tries to make stuff for you too! It might look bad, or taste weird, but he's beaming at you and the thought is there!

Please give Jamil a day off. No, really- drag him as far away from Kalim and any responsibility as possible. Do everything. Cook for him, cuddle him, tell him he's amazing and smart and very very cool and it is HIS DAY OFF. Take care of him, please? He needs this. He needs you. He'll do the same for you, if you ever overwork yourself or have a bad day. Trust him, and ask him to trust you.

(I haven't gotten beyond book 4, so I don't know enough about the other characters to feel confident writing them. Maybe Idia, Malleus or Lilia, as I really like them and have done some research on them, but for now this is what I got. Enjoy?)

[thatbennybee]

ChordStriker!AU Q&A

I'm doing a bit of a Q&A about my ChordStriker!AU on insta after sharing this teaser WIP, so I figured I'd present some of the questions here! (Feel free to ask more btw!)

↓↓↓

Rock!Poppy

Q: "Is Poppy's family (Peppy & Viva) still with her since the Bergens didn't attack them?"

A: Peppy is with her, but he is confused/in mental decline like canon King Thrash was. Viva is missing. Poppy was old enough to remember her.

Q: "Will Viva play somewhat of a role in this AU?"

A: Yes, she's had a much bigger impact on Poppy's life, even till this day even though she's been missing for many years now. Poppy has never stopped looking for her.

Q: "Is King Peppy still a liar in your AU?"

A: Nah, he's normal. Sometimes hating him with my entire being is hard, so he gets to be a good dad this time. He's just not all there mentally so Poppy is more like his caretaker now.

Q: "Poppy's relationships don't last long because she gets bored... So how long is Branch going to last?"

A: The Rat Pack (Snack Pack) is wondering the same thing, but Poppy's never used the bf/gf/partner labels before meeting him which is strange... 👀

Q: "Does Poppy still party?"

A: She's a total party animal! Her parties are even more intense than a Pop Troll party since Rock Trolls are pretty extreme. LOL

---

Pop!Barb (Barbie)

Q: "What does Barb look like?"

A: For now, this is her design, it might change once I have time to draw her digitally.

Q: "Does this mean Barb has to go through the events of Trolls 1?"

A: Nope, Barb never befriends Bridget because they have never met. They have found a way to remain undetected in the forest. (Thanks to Branch’s constant nagging about safety)

Q: "How does Barb's gang look? Is there any significant differences in their dynamics?"

A: I haven't had time to finish them all, but here's some of them for now. There's more members of The Lunch Rush, but this is all I have for now!

Val Thundershock → Valentina Wondershock.

Only Queen Barbie calls her Val. She is very optimistic & loves to sing & dance! She's Barbie’s right-hand troll, BFFL & knows everything about her. They have a very... "close" relationship. ;] She's a popstar who's managed by Demo and loves to help make Pop Village a happier place.

Riff

He's a university student studying to be an engineer. He's very soft spoken, doesn't like to make a fuss and is probably the nicest guy around. He's quite close to Barbie and sees her as an older sister. He's actually on friendly terms with Branch. His favorite treat is lollipops. 🍭

Carol

But you can call her Carrie! Everyone does. She's a bit of a diva, loves to look good & dull things bore her. She will ignore anything that doesn't catch her eye, even trolls. Best to be looking your very best!

Sid Fret

Just call him Sid, no need to be so formal. He is every trolls dream guy and he knows it! He's a great roller derby racer and loves the attention trolls give him. Sure, he's a little self-absorbed, but he's a very loyal friend.

Demo

Not much has changed about Demo. He's perfect as he is <3 He's just a little more excitable & cutesy than before. He cares about Valentina a lot & they are very close friends.

Petra

She is the blueprint, she's the moment, she's everything. A model, actress, singer, you name it, she can do it. She's perfect... Who doesn't want to be her?

---

Branch

Q: "How different is Branch in this AU vs canon Branch?"

A: He is the same Branch essentially, just without the development he gains at the end of Trolls 1 & so-on. None of it occurred, so he is still grey, miserable & a recluse. He helped Barb to come up with a plan to keep everyone safe after nagging & warning her for ages, but after that, he returned to his bunker & is still not well-liked by the village.

Q: "Does she know Branch's whole past? If she does, what was her reaction?"

A: Not sure if you meant Barb or Poppy, so I'll answer for both. Barb—no. I don't think she'd ever find out, and she's also not the type to ask. Their personalities clash a bit too much, she stays out of his way like he asks her to.

For Poppy—I think it would come up naturally in conversation after a while when Branch feels more comfortable sharing. Poppy isn't the type to pry, but makes it clear that it's out of understanding, not a lack of caring. She can tell that he is closed off for a reason. She relates to that. I think she'd be beyond pissed once he told her, though.

Q: "Will Branch's brothers be in this?"

A: Yes, but Floyd will be getting the bigger role this time.

Q: "How quickly does Branch fall for Poppy? I'm sure the answer is yes, but is he happy?"

A: I'd say he's quite guarded in the beginning. He is cautious around her for the first few weeks, but he starts to come around once he picks up on Poppy being emotionally guarded herself.

Things move quickly once their walls come down around each other, & a mutual understanding is there. Poppy fell for him first. (At least, that's what Branch lets her believe, as it was love at first sight for him, but he'd never tell her that; she'd get a big head about it.)

[janearts]

I know that, realistically, Astarion doesn't necessarily totally fill Roisia's quota for life partner, but their chemistry is SO good. Like, I can't imagine her with anyone else, tbh.

Aww that's so sweet! It always warms my heart when people care enough to have a preference with who my characters are romantically tied to, whether it's canon or crackship. Have a sweet moment between them as a treat. uwu

I also wanna say that I know Roisia puts a lot of stock in her List, but that doesn't mean you have to. I am not a therapist, so I do not know what an actual therapist might say, but I could see a fantasy Baldurian therapist saying something to Roisia along the lines of: "this list is a wonderful thing, but it is not the be-all-end-all to a life well lived and, in this case, it might have served its purpose to help you exert control over your life after experiencing a situation [romantic rejection] and a bodily reaction [heartbreak] that made you feel out of control".

If Roisia was more introspective, she might realise that she doesn't truly need the List and that the List might instead be holding her back from developing meaningful connections with people who do not perfectly meet her criteria. Because the reality is that Roisia may never meet someone who is perfect on paper or, even if she were to find her perfect person on paper, she may discover that what sounds good on paper doesn't necessarily translate into a desirable long-term romantic partner. All that is to say that it may be a good thing that Astarion doesn't fulfil Roisia's quota for a life partner AND that you still perceive them to have good chemistry together regardless.

[aakaneeee]

I've had my drabble, now it's time for actual theories and parallels since I haven't done that in a while and it's long overdue

first of all, I love to see Alien Stage art slowly but surely falling into the obvious eerie side.

I have a lot to say about all of these, but I specifically want to focus on Luka for this.

When I first saw the branding, I wondered why it was there. I was confused, because I expected it to be on the heart (which was also proven to be false in the 2nd anniversary pop up store).

then, I looked closer: left hip.

there are actually a lot of stuff to associate with his branding (except it looking slutty IM SORRY YALL I CANT HELP MYSELF)

The left hip is also the place where horses are branded. Specifically, pedigree horses. Again, not only does it show possession, but also him being superior to others.

For men, that specific area is one of the most painful. (insert tattoo pain chart)

it might seem like it's on yellow since it's just a little lower than the belly button, but 1. The belly button on this chart is really high and 2. It could just be perspective, and it'd make a lot of sense for him to be branded in the most painful way possible. doesn't that sound heperu to you?

3. he isn't under anesthesia. even mizi, who had a "least pain" area, seemed to be under anesthesia. but no, he wasn't. this leads me to my next point:

4. We know Heperu thinks the only way to make a good pet is fear. So, what if he specifically chose that area, so Luka could actively see, and even have to hold his shirt up himself? He wants him to fear, and he wants him to know who he belongs to. It seems he really doesn't have limits in showing that.

Okay, those are the stuff I've noticed about this, but now I have a parallel.

This might be a little bit of a reach so take it with a grain of salt!!

Ivan's branding is on his wrist: a secure, hidden place, where others wouldn't be able to see it, as if he actually had more freedom than other humans, being seen more as a business partner than like a pet.

Youd think Luka is the same, afterall, his branding is on his hip, and we didn't see anyone wearing crop tops and low rise pants yet.

No, but all of his outfits have an open back and a cut in the front.

Considering the pacing of his songs, and the turns he made in Round 5, we could possibly imagine that the material would move away, and it would show his branding, atleast a little bit. Like a silent reminder, both for Luka and for the audience, that he is not his own person, but someone who is owned. It feels like Heperu is so prideful that he wants to take merit for Luka's voice, as if taking advantage of an actual condition he has was what brought him up in the charts, and that Luka's work is equal to nothing, because he did everything. That's what Heperu thinks, and that's what he wants the audience to think, as well.

Another perfect example of this is the photo next to the branding.

Taking Sua's photo, we can see the signatures or scribbles are darker, and even though crazier, they still make her the center of it, while still maintaining some color.

For Luka, the backround is blank. Just grey. He doesn't have the teal that Sua had, or even a light yellow to show light. More importantly, the signatures are all over him. Showing that he is a prized possession, a trophy, that doesn't actually have anything of his own, that is completely under his owner and his fans, despite him supposedly having more 'freedom' than other pets because he already won a season. (This freedom being an obvious lie.)

Sua is looking left. Luka is directly facing the camera, but you can barely even tell, his eyes are covered by his hair.

Again, another small reach, but we know he doesn't really enjoy bright lights. (sweet dream as proof)

I was wondering if this could be even more proof of him having even more conditions than what they've let on.

Specifically, Leukocoria.

Leukocoria represents your pupil shining white or grayish-yellow instead of red, and it signals grave damage inside the eye.

(Photo from Google, don't sue me)

It looks very close to Luka's pupils, right?

there are also these two official arts in which he's wearing glasses.

they seem to be quite thin, so whatever the reason for him wearing them is not that bad.

so i was wondering: could it be a case of cataract?

HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT

his eyes are a very pale color, and pale irises can be a sign of cataract.

people with cases of cataract that aren't too bad, even though surgery is recommended, can see better if they wear glasses.

and leukocoria can be caused by cataract.

maybe that's the reason he's hiding his eyes from the light here with his hair? his eyes are sensible to light?

i know this is really long but i hope you all don't mind too much, luka is my favourite (if you couldn't tell) and this new information awakened my medical knowledge :)

sorry if some stuff don't make sense, as always, english is not my first language, I hope it's atleast a bit coherent!

(tagging some people because I think you'd like to see this.... @shakingparadigm @sotogalmo @paradisedisconcert @m1zisua @junebluues @bluemoonscape @4listr @nottoonedin @pwippy SORRY IF ANY OF YALL DIDNT WANT TO BE TAGGED)

[therealcocoshady]

Could you make a one shot where Marshall x Reader have been dating for almost 2 years, they start talking about kids and the thought of reader pregnant is a big turn on for him.

Author’s Note : Thank you for your request 💕. I hope you enjoy this ! ⭐️

If you like my writing and want to support it, here’s my Ko-Fi (I’m also open for commission. It’s like a request but that way you’re 100% sure I see it fast & indulge you 😉 - rn I have 200+ asks in my Inbox. Also, by commissioning my work, you’re literally helping a struggling neurodivergent student get by !).

Baby talk

You were the first one to be surprised when you felt it. The desire to have kids. You had never been a kid person. You had always found these tiny humans to be terribly underwhelming. To be fair, you didn’t hate them. But you never really understood what all the fuss surrounding babies was. Puppies ? Yes. Kittens ? Absolutely. Human babies ? Meh. When you were a kid yourself, you didn’t show an interest in babies and, as far as you could remember, you had never really enjoyed playing with dolls. And growing up, you hadn’t shown more of an interest in the topic of motherhood. Older people had told you you’d change your mind and eventually come to want kids of your own but you doubted it. When you became an adult and got into serious relationships, you had that talk with your partners and you told them you didn’t want to have children. You enjoyed your free time, being able to sleep until noon if you wanted to, the possibility of spending money on silly things like an impromptu girls trip to Vegas or a new handbag instead of diapers and an overpriced daycare. In your mind, it was clear that you weren’t meant to be a mother. You did have a lot of love and admiration for parents around you, but you didn’t envy them. So you built a child free life that was absolutely wonderful. Sure, it hurt a bit when your previous partner ended up breaking up with you because he changed his mind about kids and you didn’t. But you understood his decision and knew it was the right thing to do, rather than forcing yourself to have kids when you did not have any actual desire for it. You didn’t want to force yourself to live a life that did not resemble you, taking the risk of one day resenting the children you never wanted to raise in the first place. It all worked out in the end : your ex went on to marry a woman who, from what you heard, was wonderful and have a kid with her, and you ended up meeting the love of your life. 

Marshall was everything you hoped to find in a partner. He was kind, funny, thoughtful, knowledgeable on a lot of subjects and handsome. Yes, he was older than you, but he was definitely young at heart. If anything, you benefited from his experience in life. Also, him being older and having three grown-up children meant that he was « done with all of that », which was a relief. The feeling was mutual, his lack of desire for more kids having caused a couple of breakups for him as well. But just because the two of you decided not to have babies didn’t mean you didn’t have your hands full with them. Marshall was a loving uncle to his brother’s three kids and you were entering that stage of your life where all your friends were starting families. So whether it was a birthday party, a basketball game, a recital or a baby shower… you had your share of kid-related activities. You liked it though. More than you ever thought you would. Marshall being very family-oriented, he loved that you were involved with his family. Together, you built a perfect life. You had all the fun that came with being around kids, without the obligations. You were the fun aunt and uncle, who enjoyed spoiling other people’s kids rotten and playing with them, before happily handing them back to their parents and letting them handle the sugar crash and the noise caused by the toys you bought them. You thought you’d spend the rest of your life just like this, perfectly content, enjoying a peaceful existence with your boyfriend, with whom you would eventually grow old. 

But then, without seeing it coming, you found yourself thinking about it. Wondering how you would look like with a baby bump. Pregnant ladies had always looked like aliens to you, but you started thinking you’d actually be cute, carrying a little baby. Marshall’s baby. A baby with the cutest nose, pouty lips and the most beautiful blue eyes. The thought of a baby that would be part you part Marshall had your heart melt. And you knew he’d be such a good baby daddy, too. Obviously, he had raised three amazing daughters he was very proud of, but he was also amazing with other people’s children. He was his nephews’ favorite person in the world and he was so great with your friends’ babies. So you found yourself thinking that, if you got accidentally pregnant, it wouldn’t be the worst thing on earth. Sure, it would be inconvenient, but maybe you’d keep it. Not that it would ever happen anyway, since you were more than diligent with birth control. Then, it turned into thinking about what your life would actually look like with a little one. And you figured that, what you would have found dreadful years ago, maybe wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you’d crush it as a soccer mom. Maybe there was actually something beautiful in having kids with someone you love, teaching them stuff and watching them grow up. 

Then, one day, it hit you like a ton of bricks. You actually wanted to have kids. With Marshall. You were at the store, doing your weekly shopping. How you ended up in the baby aisle, you weren’t sure. But you found yourself mesmerized by the tiny items of clothing. Eventually, you came to your senses and mentally slapped yourself. You were with a man in his fifties, who already had his kids and did not want more. Now was not the time to change your mind. As if to imprint the thought in your brain, you went and stocked on condoms, buying a fuckton of them. The cashier even threw you a weird glance. You probably looked like you were doing  a comparative study, getting a bit of everything from ribbed ones to flavored ones. Marshall chuckled when he saw them in the bag. 

That’s a lot of condoms, he chortled. 

Yeah, there was some kind of sale, you lied. 

He shrugged it off and promised to put them to good use. You knew he would make good on his word and figured you just needed to have that silly idea banged out of your system. Except that it didn’t work. You went a few months without talking to him about it. But the more time went on, the more you realized you really wanted a baby with this man. You still liked the idea of having a flexible schedule and 9 hours of sleep a night. But you didn’t love it as much as you loved the idea of carrying this man’s offspring. And the more time went on, the harder it was not to talk to him about it. You dreaded this, though. Because you’d been on the receiving end of that conversation. Of not wanting kids and having someone you loved tell you that they wanted to start a family with you, and having to disappoint them and see the heartbreak in their eyes. So you put it off as long as you could. Until one evening, you weren’t able to hold yourself. 

I think I want a baby, you blurted out when you walked in the kitchen while Marshall was cooking dinner.

You think you want what, baby ? He asked as he turned to you. Sorry, I didn’t hear you over the noise of that kitchen fan. 

No, I said I-I think I want a baby, you repeated nervously. 

You think you want a baby ? He repeated carefully. 

I mean… yeah, you simply said. 

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. Clearly, you were taking him by surprise. He turned off the fan and the kitchen stove, before walking to you. 

That’s new, he said matter-of-factly. 

Kind of, you admitted. I mean… I’ve been thinking about it for some time now. 

So you don’t think you to have want a baby. You know you want to have one, he pointed out. 

Y-yeah. I’m sorry, you mumbled as you looked down. 

For how long have you thought about it ? He asked. 

I’m not sure, you admitted. Does it matter ? 

I thought you didn’t want to be a mom, he said. That you were perfectly happy with being an aunt. That it was the best of both worlds. That’s what you said. 

I know, you replied. And I meant it. I’m as surprised as you are, really. But then I thought about how I’d react if I got pregnant. And I realized I wouldn’t mind that. Having a baby that’s part you and part me. 

Oh wow, he said as he scratched the back of his head. 

Yeah, you hummed. And I thought it was just something random and that I’d forget about it. But I can’t. And it’s been months now, and I think you have great genes and that our baby would be really cute. And Target has the most adorable baby clothes and I know condoms are cheaper than a college education but there were little bunnies on the pajamas I saw the other day and I also found out that they make baby Jordan sneakers that look like the ones you love and-

You caught yourself rambling and stopped talking. Now, you weren’t making any sense and you were just dumping the whole thing on him. Probably not the best way to go about it. He was staring at you with an amused look on his face. 

I’m sorry, you said will a sad voice. I know you’re done with it. We’ve talked about it and I know it really sucks that I’m changing my mind but I needed to tell you because I’ve been thinking about it a lot and-

Do you plan on letting me speak ? He asked with a smile. 

Yes. Sorry. 

Ok, he chuckled. I have a few questions. Is there a reason why you changed your mind ? 

Well… you, I guess, you shrugged. I mean, I love you, and I see what an amazing father, what a great uncle you are. 

Ok, he said. And, another question : is that something you want ? Or is it something you need ? 

I don’t know, you admitted. I’m really happy with our life just the way it is. I don’t need a baby to be fulfilled and for my life to have meaning. But I can’t stop thinking of how much I’d like a baby with you. 

Ok, he hummed. So… it’s not something you’d break up over ? 

No, you said. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. And I don’t think I want a baby if I can’t have it with you. You’re the reason I want one. Because the baby I have in my mind… he has your eyes, your nose and your smile. 

Meh. Doesn’t sound too cute, he chuckled. If anything, it sounds like an ad for contraception. 

Oh, come on, you giggled. 

But… he ? He asked with a smile. 

Sometimes she, you corrected. I never really wanted kids so I don’t really care, I guess. Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just dump this whole thing on you… we both know this talk sucks. But I couldn’t really keep it to myself. I needed to tell you. I’m sorry. 

Quit apologizing, babe, he said reassuringly. I’m glad you told me. 

Really ? You asked nervously. 

Of course, he replied. I can tell it hasn’t been easy for you. 

You nodded and he pulled you into his arms before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You closed your eyes and inhaled his scent. You definitely felt lighter after telling him, even though it didn’t really change anything. 

So… can I get back to you on that ? He finally asked. 

Huh ?! You asked as you looked up from his chest.

I think I’m gonna need a bit of time to think about it, he continued. I can’t promise I’ll say yes. But I’ll consider it. 

Wait… seriously ? You asked in shock. 

Isn’t that why you brought it up in the first place ? He mused. 

I don’t know, you said. I guess I mostly expected you to convince me it was a terrible idea. I mean, you’ve broken up with people over that. 

So have you, he pointed out. But it’s you. It’s us. What we have is different. I feel like my family’s complete so I never really wanted to have another kid. But I’m in love with you. And if there’s anyone I’d give it a shot with… it’s you. 

Ok, you said with an emotional smile. 

I’m not saying yes to anything, though, he warned. Don’t get your hopes up. 

But you’re not saying no, you pointed out with a smile. 

I’m not, he agreed. Because even though having kids can be tough… it’s pretty great, too. And I know you’d be a great mom. 

You flashed him a smile and buried your face in his chest.  The simple fact that he was willing to consider it because he loved you filled your heart with joy. 

You didn’t really bring up the topic in the following weeks, but you could see a change in Marshall’s demeanor whenever someone around you talked about kids. You could absolutely tell he was thinking about it. You weren’t too sure what the best way to go about it was. Of course, you were curious to know how he felt about it, what was on his mind. But you didn’t want to be annoying and press him on the matter, so you figured that it was probably better to wait for him to get back to you on that, once his mind was made up. 

Waiting was trying, though. Because in the meantime, you had to watch him interact with countless babies and young children, feeling like your ovaries exploded. Patience is a virtue and that waiting period was definitely an opportunity for you to practice it. Thankfully, it finally came to an end when you came back from work to Marshall waiting for you in the living room, with a bouquet of roses on the table, as well as a paper bag. You greeted him and thanked him for the nice gesture.

What’s the occasion ? You asked. 

Since when do I need a special  occasion to treat my woman to some roses and a present ? He asked back. 

Touché, you giggled. Thank you my love. Can I open the bag ? 

Not yet, he said. I want you to have a look at this first. 

He handed you some papers and you skimmed through it. It was a printing of his schedule for the foreseeable future. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

That’s, erm, fine ? You said, unsure of what he was expecting you to say. 

It’s my schedule, he said. For the next two years. 

I see that, you chuckled. I’m just not sure why you’re showing it to me ? You usually don’t consult me when it comes to your work schedule. 

As you can see, I’ve moved a couple of trips that were already planned, he explained as he pointed to a few dates. Meaning that I’ll be going to LA a little bit more in the upcoming three months. But after that, no more work trips and I put a hold on the performance planning. I’ll stay in Detroit. 

Ok ? You said - still not grasping what he was getting at. That’s nice. But why did you change the schedule ? Is there a specific reason why you need to stay here ? 

Apparently, when you’re trying to have a baby with your woman, it’s better to be in the same city, he grinned. 

You stared at him in shock, your mouth slightly agape. Marshall was smiling from ear to ear. Next thing he knew, you were in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, peppering your face with kisses. 

Oh my God, you said emotionally. Really ? Oh I love you so much, Marshall ! 

I love you too, he hummed. 

I can’t believe it, you whispered. Wait- What’s in the bag ? 

Open it, he chuckled. 

You reached for it and saw it contained a bunch of ovulation prediction kits, pregnancy tests, some folic acid and some lube. 

Apparently, these are the basic essentials for trying to conceive, he commented. 

You’re amazing, you said with the biggest smile on your face. So… we’re doing this ? We’re making a baby ?

If you haven’t changed your mind, yeah, he nodded. 

As a response, you threw yourself in his arms and kissed him passionately. He chuckled into the kiss and cupped your face, staring at you lovingly. 

I’ll give you the cutest baby, you promised. 

I have no doubt, he grinned. 

Do you think I’ll be a pretty pregnant lady ? You mused. 

Are you kidding me ? He asked. God, you’re going to be so hot. The thought of you carrying my baby… You have no idea the things it does to me. 

Oh yeah ? Like what ? You asked defiantly. Show-

Before you had the chance to finish your sentence, Marshall had you pinned to the couch and was grinding against you. It didn’t matter that you were both fully clothed, you could feel his excitement through the fabric. 

I’m gonna fill your pretty pussy, he promised. And I’m gonna make a pretty mama out of you. 

Mmmyes, you whimpered. 

Gonna give you a pretty belly, he continued. I can’t wait to see you carry our child. Can’t wait to start trying. 

When ? You asked pleadingly.  

How about now ?  He whispered in your ear.