#one of the moments of all time if i’m being honest

[edenfenixblogs]

Here’s the deal:

I’m Jewish.

I grew up celebrating Christmas with my best friend/sister. I loved looking at all the lights and helping put ornaments on the tree.

But that wasn’t a secular experience for me. It was a loved one inviting me to partake in their culture, which was lovely and kind of them. It was like if I asked my friends to come to a Passover Seder or a my bat mitzvah.

It’s a joyous time for those who celebrate, and it’s very kind when a member of a culture of which you are not a part invite you to join them in their joy. It is a sign that someone you love also loves you and wants you to be present in moments they associate with joy.

But that does not make it ok for you to ASSUME that EVERYONE celebrates, wants to celebrate, or has fond associations with the things that you celebrate at that time. For the vast majority of Christian history, celebrations of Christian religions were often very intermingled with violence and oppression against those who were not Christian.

I grew up being surrounded by loved ones who celebrate Christmas and made it (and Easter!) super fun times for me.

But some Jews grew up watching people celebrate Christmas joyfully while knowing they couldn’t celebrate any of their own holidays openly because they would be targeted for bullying or violence.

Some people grew up watching people who bullied them get presents from a magic man who brought gifts to all the good boys and girls…as long as they were Christian. And they grew up wondering why Santa thought Billy the Bully was worthy of the nice list but didn’t think their non-Christian self wasn’t worthy of the same.

Some Jews grew up with parents who fled nations that were hostile to Jews and had to leave behind everything in order to start fresh somewhere else. And their parents might not have had fond associations with Christmas in their home countries. So the kids didn’t grow up with fond associations with Christmas. But they did get asked by all their Christian friends why they were weird and didn’t celebrate like all the “normal” kids.

Some kids grew up doing school choir and wondered why the “holiday concerts” included all Christian songs and one round of Dreidl dreidl—which isn’t even our best song but is the only one that Christians could be bothered to learn (even though Jewish kids learned a million different Christmas songs and even some Latin hymns).

And, to be honest, many Jews this year and last year have a lot of trouble getting “into the holiday spirit” when we know that many of the people celebrating “joy and love and peace” have spent substantial amounts of energy shouting down Jewish voices and making our lives demonstrably less full of joy and love and markedly less peaceful.

There are million and a half reasons that Jews and other non-Christians might not wish to celebrate or take part in Christmas or the Christian idea of the holiday season. And that’s ok! They shouldn’t be expected to!

Reminder that Christmas is a religious holiday and all the things that come with it (the tree, the colors, the traditions, etc.) are apart of it (even if you don’t celebrate for religious reasons it still is) and if you say “Oh it’s just part of the season” you’re throwing your Jewish & other not Christian religious participants under the bus

[rafeskai]

Opposite — Rafe Cameron

Part Two

She looks nothing like me So why do you look so happy?

Summary: After seeing her ex-boyfriend Rafe Cameron happily flirting with his new girlfriend Sofia at a party, the reader confronts the painful reality that Sofia is everything she’s not—quiet, effortless, and seemingly perfect for him.

Pairings: ExBF!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Y'all really wanted part two, I had to deliver :)

First Part Here

It had been six months since that night at the Kook party, six months since you’d finally walked away from Rafe Cameron. It hadn’t been easy, but you’d found something you didn’t think you’d feel again: peace. Or at least, something close to it.

Your new boyfriend, Noah, had been a big part of that. He was different from Rafe in every way—kind, steady, and, most importantly, honest. He never made you feel like you weren’t enough, never looked at you like he was waiting for someone better to come along.

So when he invited you to dinner at a cozy waterfront restaurant, you thought it would be another perfect evening. The two of you sat at a table on the deck, the ocean breeze sweeping through your hair as the sun dipped below the horizon. You were mid-laugh at one of Noah’s terrible jokes when your eyes caught movement across the patio.

And then you saw him.

Rafe.

He was sitting at a nearby table with Sofia. Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic, as she reached across the table to touch his hand. Rafe leaned back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered across his face.

Your stomach twisted painfully. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and now, here he was, looking as infuriatingly perfect as ever. His gaze shifted, almost like he could sense you staring, and for a brief, agonizing moment, your eyes locked.

He froze, his smirk faltering as recognition flickered across his face.

“Hey, you okay?” Noah’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You tore your eyes away, forcing a smile as you turned to him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. Not when you could feel Rafe’s gaze lingering, not when you could still hear Sofia’s laugh cutting through the air like a knife.

The rest of dinner was a blur. Noah kept the conversation light, unaware of the storm raging inside you, but you couldn’t focus. When the check came, you excused yourself to the bathroom, desperate for a moment to breathe.

You had barely made it to the hallway when a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N.”

You turned slowly, your heart pounding. Rafe was standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his expression unreadable.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

He hesitated, his blue eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.

Rafe took a step closer, and you instinctively took one back. He frowned at the distance. “You look... good.”

“Save it,” you snapped. “I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing.”

“I’m not playing a game,” he said quickly, his voice low but urgent. “I just... I needed to say something.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms tighter. “What could you possibly have to say to me, Rafe? We’ve already been down this road.”

“I screwed up,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I screwed up,” he repeated, louder this time. “I pushed you away because I was too much of a coward to deal with my own crap. I thought... I thought being with someone easy would fix things. But it didn’t. It doesn’t.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the raw honesty in his voice throwing you off balance.

“Rafe...” you began, but he cut you off.

“I see you with him,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “And I can’t stand it. I hate that he gets to make you laugh like that, that he gets to hold you, to love you. It should’ve been me.”

You shook your head, the tears stinging your eyes. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come here and say these things after everything.”

“I know,” he said quickly, stepping closer again. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I... I miss you, Y/N. Every day.”

The sound of footsteps behind you made you turn. Noah was standing at the end of the hallway, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, his gaze flicking between you and Rafe.

You wiped at your eyes, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You brushed past Rafe without another word, grabbing Noah’s hand as you walked back to the table. But as you left the restaurant, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Rafe’s eyes on you, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest.

Even as Noah laced his fingers with yours, offering the kind of steady warmth you knew you deserved, part of you couldn’t help but look back.

————————————

 The drive home with Noah was quiet, the silence in the car thicker than usual. You stared out the window, the streetlights flashing by in a blur, but your mind was stuck in that hallway, with Rafe’s words looping endlessly in your head.

“I miss you. Every day.”

Noah must have noticed your distraction. He reached over, placing a comforting hand on your thigh. “You’ve been quiet since we left. You sure you’re okay?”

You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I’m fine,” you said softly, though the words felt hollow.

When Noah dropped you off, he kissed your forehead and promised to call you in the morning. As his car pulled away, you stood on your porch, staring at the empty street. The quiet of the night pressed in, but your thoughts were anything but calm.

Rafe’s voice haunted you. His confession had cracked something open inside you, something you’d buried deep to protect yourself.

It wasn’t fair. You were happy now. Weren’t you?

But deep down, you knew the truth. You hadn’t been happy—not completely—since Rafe.

With a shaky breath, you unlocked your door and stepped inside. You barely made it to the couch before your phone buzzed. For a moment, you thought it might be Noah, checking in again. But when you looked at the screen, your heart dropped.

Rafe: I know I shouldn’t have said anything. I just needed you to know.

You stared at the message, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. You knew responding would only complicate things, but your heart had other plans.

You: Rafe, I can’t do this right now.

His reply came almost instantly.

Rafe: Please. Just give me five minutes. If you don’t want to talk after that, I’ll leave you alone.

You closed your eyes, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. Against your better judgment, you typed out a response.

You: Fine. Five minutes.

————————————

Rafe was on your doorstep less than fifteen minutes later. He looked hesitant, his usual confidence replaced with something you rarely saw in him: vulnerability.

“You really don’t waste time, do you?” you said, your arms crossed as you leaned against the doorframe.

He gave a weak smile. “Didn’t want to give you a chance to change your mind.”

You stepped aside, letting him in. The air in the room was heavy as you sat down on the couch, leaving a noticeable gap between you.

“Talk,” you said, your tone guarded.

Rafe leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. For a moment, you thought he might not say anything at all. But then, he took a deep breath.

“I’ve been an idiot,” he began, his voice low. “I thought I could move on, that being with Sofia would make me forget you. But it didn’t. Nothing does. I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you for months, but every time I tried, I just... froze.”

You stayed silent, your arms tightening around yourself.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “And I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I’m asking for one anyway.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the raw emotion in his eyes. “Why now, Rafe? Why wait until I finally moved on?”

“Because I’m a coward,” he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. “I was scared of how much I needed you. But seeing you tonight, with him... it made me realize I can’t keep pretending. I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and overwhelming. You felt tears prick at your eyes, but you fought them back. “You don’t get to do this,” you whispered. “You don’t get to break me and then come back like this.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it. I’ll wait as long as you need. Just tell me there’s a chance.”

The tears finally spilled over, and you turned away, wiping at your face. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to let you go? To try and move on?”

“I do,” he said softly. “And I hate myself for putting you through that. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

You looked back at him, your chest tightening as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. You wanted to stay strong, to protect yourself from the pain he’d caused. But the truth was, you still loved him.

You always had.

With a shaky breath, you closed the gap between you, your hands trembling as you reached for his. “If you hurt me again, Rafe... I won’t survive it.”

His hands enveloped yours, warm and steady. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. When his lips finally met yours, it felt like coming home. The kiss was soft and full of unspoken promises, his hands cradling your face like you were something fragile, something precious.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I love you,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, letting the words wash over you. For the first time in months, the ache in your chest began to ease.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe in a future where love didn’t have to hurt.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[trender-official]

Whiskey Burns My Throat | Part Two

Sevika x Fem!Doctor!Reader | 3.5k

Part One

She looked up and ran her teeth over her lip. She knew he was going to lecture her. The leather coach squeaked as she sat up. “Yeah. A bit.” Her face contorted for a moment, knowing she shouldn’t be disrespectful, but still angry. She could handle hard, fast pains. But dull aches made her irritable.

Silco frowned sharply. “Don’t lie to me. The shimmer isn't helping, is it?” His voice sounded soft, despite the underlying anger. He cared for her, after all, they had been working alongside each other for years now.

She sighed. She didn't know why she tried to deceive him, in a way, when it’s his whole job to deceive other people. She did know why. She didn’t want him to think she’s weak. She didn’t want to think about that. “No. Hasn’t been for awhile.”

“That’s why you’ve been so eager to fight, then. Come.” He beckoned her over. Willingly, she stood. He may irritate her, but she respected him. She’d do almost anything for him. He ran his hands over her metal hand, then looked up at her. “I graced you with the height of Zaun’s technology. Do not disgrace it by refusing its progression.” He stood. “If it is failing you, fix it. Go see The Doctor.” He let go of her and sat back down. “Don’t make me say so twice.”

Sevika closed her eyes and took a breath. He was right. She was being irrational. Fuck, she was being irrational. She turned away, running her human hand across the mahogany desk. She remembers when he got this. He almost didn’t- Thought it may had been a waste of money. But she told him, “You’d impress investors. And scare them.” He listened. He respected her, as much as she did him. She needed to listen.

She let out one last sigh, maybe to make it clear she wasn’t happy with the decision, before taking her leave and making her way to The Doctor’s house. She was supposed to head there soon anyway to escort her to the tent.

Soon enough, she arrived. It was a small place, maybe 800 sqft, made of various scrap metals and sheets. She leaned against it, her eyes closed as she crossed her arms around her chest, enjoying the moment of silence. She usually waited youtside for The Doctor to come out, not caring enough to knock. It felt… too domestic.

She heard some clanging inside, then the “oh so put together”, well, not so much recently, Doctor came out. Her hair wasn’t in her proper place, usually tied back in a careful ponytail or bun. But it hadn’t been in… A week? Two? Sevika couldn’t remember the last time it was. Sevika didn’t care, to be honest. She didn’t say anything to Sevika, she just looked at her and started off in the direction they usually went. Sevika didn’t care about that, either. In fact, she appreciated it. She’s been much less chatty recently.

It took about four minutes to get to the tent, they’d placed it here on purpose to keep her out of the streets as much as possible. Although, the Doctor had been ignoring that recently and going out at night. At least she went to the last drop, staying within Silco’s reach. Sevika had seen her there a few times, only staying long enough to get a bottle of alcohol and leaving after.

When they reached the tent, Sevika finally spoke up. “I’m gonna be the first patient today.” She said, as she sat down on the cot that functioned as an examination table, which was far too small for her and practically screamed as she sat down.

The Doctor paused, a look of shock coming across her face. “Are you sick?” She asked, putting her bag down and slipping on some gloves. She stepped closer, tentatively, eyeing her face to see if there were any signs of sickness.

“No.” She said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Just… The arm. It’s hurting my shoulder.” She said, once again holding the weight of the metal arm with her other hand. “Shimmer isn’t helping anymore. Don’t wanna take too much either. You know why.”

The Doctor nodded. “Can you remove the arm for me?” She asked, getting close enough to make Sevika want to scoot back. Sevika didn’t say anything, but unlatched the arm and laid it down beside her. She unholstered her gun as well. Just in case she didn’t have the arm to defend them with.

The Doctor leaned forwards, analyzing the area, running her hands along it with a furrowed brow. She reached for the arm itself, and almost immediately she could tell the problem. “It’s too heavy,” she said matter of factly. “It’s putting too much strain on your deltoid- your shoulder” she reached back to gently press on the area, nodding. Then she paused, lost in thought, trying to figure out a way to solve the problem.

Sevika frowned heavily as she fiddled with her. She felt like an animal being tested on. She was used to that- With shimmer and all. But she didn’t like it. When The Doctor paused, she raised an eyebrow. The Doctor’s hand didn’t move, to which Sevika glanced at it. She decided to remove it with a light swipe.

The Doctor didn’t react, her brows furrowed, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her first idea was letting Silco deal with it. That would be the easiest and less stressful thing to do for herself. But she didn’t like the idea of not knowing what their plan was for Sevikas pain. The thought frustrated her.

Then it hit her. Jayce. Jayce was a friend she made while she was just starting her schooling. They had become quick friends, despite their separate fields. Jayce was an easy person. He was easy to get along with. She heard news of him working with Heimerdinger now, so maybe he could help them!

“Wait-“ she perked up, slamming her fist down onto her open palm. “I have a friend who lives for this stuff. He’s…”

“A topsider.” Sevika finished for her. The Doctor paused, her face falling as the excitement drained a little from her voice. “Yes.. but he’s talented. Extremely so. Let him take a look at it- it’ll be a few hours max.” She didn’t know why she was trying so hard to get her to agree. Maybe to earn brownie points? But why did she care so much about what she thought?

Sevika thought for a second, her jaw twisting in irritation. Having to go all the way up to Piltover- AND deal with pilties who no doubt were going to gloat in front of her with their arrogance… she hated it. Hated this whole situation, hated feeling weak. In need. And most importantly, hated her. But… she couldn’t deny it any longer. She had people to protect here. Silco to protect. And his kid, that Jinx girl, which she hated to admit she held a smidge of affection for. So with a begrudging sigh, she agreed.

They set off, making their way to Piltover, wanting to do so earlier than later. Sevika had tied the tent up before they left, putting a sign that said, “Closed. Come back tomorrow.”

The Doctor stayed unusually quiet the whole ride. She busied herself thinking about what she was to say to Jayce after not seeing each other for so long. She didn’t know how to say she’d left Piltover and became a citizen of Zaun without explaining why, and he couldn’t know why. Silco made that clear.

As time went on, she grew more anxious, her hands squeezing and messing with the material of her pants as she thought of ways to dodge or distract Jayce from asking any questions relating to her disappearance.

But a part of her rationalized her thoughts. He probably didn’t even notice she was gone. It wasn’t like they were best friends; they just kept each other company during their boring schooling days. Once Jayce started working under Heimerdinger, he had gotten busier, and they didn’t talk much, not unless she came to visit him in his lab. And even then they talked about basic things before Jayce got distracted and pulled back into his work. Hextech, she remembered.

She didn’t even notice they had arrived until a large airship zipped through the Hexgate. It made her realize she hadn’t been here since before the Hexgates were created. She’d heard it was a marvel- But to see it here? Right in front of her? It was… Awe inspiring. This truly is The City of Progress. It made her rethink some things.

Sevike snickered behind her. “Amazed?” She asked, her voice holding that patronizing tone to it. The Doctor blushed and looked away, even though she knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Sevika had been here many times since the Hexgates were created, running shimmer back and forth for Silco, so the sight was just… Normal to her now. It’s strange, how that happens.

As they made their way to the academy, The Doctor couldn’t help the twist of anxiety brewing in her gut. Sevika was unpredictable, she didn’t know what she’d do or say once they got there, and she really didn’t want to break up a fight, or have any physical altercations between her and the guards. Or even worse; Jayce himself. Jayce was kind, and understanding. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a hot-head. Things set him off pretty easily, which also worried her.

And the thing that bothered her the most was the idea of Sevika not accepting Jayce’s help; that she’d be in pain until Silco could find someone in Zaun to fix up her arm. It confused her, and irritated her all the same. Why should she care if Sevika was in pain? She was a grown woman after all. Not a very nice one either.

Finally, they arrived inside. Some people gave them a wary and uneasy look, while others downright glared at them, as if to say “You don’t belong here. Go back to the Undercity”. The Doctor frowned. She had never gotten those looks before. She, unconsciously, moved closer to Sevikas side. It was true that she felt safe with the bigger woman. Who wouldn’t? After all, Sevika didn’t look bothered.

The Doctor asked around, inquiring about Jayce’s whereabouts. She was met with a lot of suspicion, but she eased their concerns with smooth talking, and stories of their college days, proving she had a legitimate tie to the man. Once they had their directions they were off, and in time they found his workshop.

The Doctor raised her fist to knock, when the door opened. A man she didn’t recognize stood there with a tilted head. “Hello?” He said with a strange accent.

“Um- Hello!” The Doctor started, “I’m here for Jayce…” she shifted nervously on her feet.

“I’m sorry, he’s not taking meetings today, would you like to leave your names?” He said monotonously. He seemed to do this often. And he didn’t seem bothered by Sevikas stark presence behind her.

“Oh- but-“

Suddenly the smaller man was nudged, making an irritated sound leave his throat as jayce appeared above him.

“What are you doing here?!” Jayce asked excitedly, pushing past the shorter male, his arms instinctively reaching to hug The Doctor. His hands snaked onto her lower back, squeezing; A familiar, practiced motion.

“Jeez!” The Doctor laughed, her arms returning the hug quickly, her head being shoved into his chest. He was just about the same height as Sevika.

“Careful or you’re gonna kill me before I even tell you why!” The Doctor teased as Jayce pulled back, his eyes bright, excited. He looked good, face bright, but still equipped with the eyebags that came with being a scientist.

“Right, right.” Jayce pulled back, his hands still on the small of her back. “Well come in-! I have much to show you!” he took her hand, pulling her inside the workshop.

The unnamed man stood behind them, a hip popped out to the side with a grumpy looking face. The Doctor couldn’t tell if he was simply leaning on his cane or being sassy…

“Before we start I think introductions are needed.” The Doctor looked happy, a genuine smile on her face as she gestured to the man and Sevika behind them. “I know how you get when you get into things, Jayce.” There it was again, that familiarity.

Sevika wanted to glare at him. She wanted to scare him away- Make him stop asking questions. But she knew how to play this. She wasn’t a stupid woman. She faked a smile, strained and thin, still intimidating despite it, and stayed silent.

In return, Jayce just rolled his eyes playfully at The Doctor, before nodding to Sevika, returning the same smile, it being a little bigger than hers. He turned quickly, and gestured to the man leaning on his cane. “This is Viktor. He’s been my partner while working under Heimerdinger.”

The Doctor nodded in acknowledgment. “Hello, Viktor. I’m a friend of Jayce’s from the academy.” she stuck her hand out to shake.

“Oh!” Viktor’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh. Hello.” He said, taking her hand gently. His hands were bony, his fingers long. He didn’t know how to shake a hand well, he simply laid his hand in hers and let her guide it. He sounded uncomfortable, but not negatively. Simply, in a new situation. The Doctor guessed he likely didn’t get much positive attention from topsiders, based on his reaction, so she put in extra effort to lightly cup his hand and smile as she shook it. He must be from the lower city. Or perhaps it’s because of his disability? She didn’t know, but her heart ached just a little for him.

After she pulled her hand away she turned towards Sevika. “This is Sevika. A…” she paused, not really sure what to call her. She decided on the simpler method. “A friend of mine. We met at a bar a few months ago.” She introduced.

Jayce took no time in raising an eyebrow, his mouth turned into a teasing smile. “Right.. a friend” He said, his voice dipping low. He knew The Doctors type, they did go to the academy together after all. Nights of parties and bar hopping, they had learned each-others type in people. And Sevika? She was definitely her type. Not to mention, The Doctor never brought people to meet Jayce. It was all too suspicious.

Sevika recoiled, looking The Doctor up and down. “Her?” She snorted. “No. Just friends.” Even that felt strange in her mouth. Referring to this woman as anything but a nuisance was wrong. Although, Sevika wouldn’t be surprised if The Doctor was into her. Honestly, a night or two with her wouldn’t be terrible. Sevika wasn’t new to hate sex- But anything else? Pure insanity.

The Doctor herself sputtered, caught off guard. Sevika and her? The thought made her cheeks warm, her heartbeat increasing.

Jayce’s other eyebrow shot up, with his hands as he backed away. “Sure, sure… Sure.” He said with a shrug. “I won’t push.” He said, with a wink. He turned away, his neck straining to look at them behind him. “Come on! I’ll show you the lab. You can tell me why you’re here.”

They made their way inside, Jayce showing off his recent discoveries, though not going into too much detail. He would stop and move on whenever Viktor gave him that warning look- the look of they don’t need to know this.

Finally they settled, taking seats at one of the bigger desks near the back. “So, not that I mind you visiting, but why are you here?” Jayce asked, absentmindedly helping Viktor into the chair next to him, like he’d done it a million times. He didn’t even take his eyes off of hers as he did it.

That had The Doctor raising an eyebrow, but she stored it away for later. She wasn’t one to ask those types of questions in front of others.

“Sevika’s arm has been giving her some trouble. It’s too heavy for her muscles to handle for such a long period of time. Do you think you could take a look and see if there’s anything you can do to remove some of the strain?” She asked them, her voice now poised and Doctor-like.

Jayce blinked, “… that’s it?” He asked, almost shocked. “I thought it’d be something way more complicated. Sure, put it here.” He patted the spot in front of him.

“Show off…” She muttered, and looked back to Sevika expectantly. Sevika wanted to sigh heavily but she restrained herself. She waddled over to the area, gripping her arm and lifting the weight off.

“Just… be careful.” She said grumpily before allowing Jayce to touch her. “It’s delicate.”

“I will be.” Jayce smiled, gentle but large fingers gracing her skin. He looked back to her for approval, receiving it hesitantly, before lifting her arm. He ran his hands over the seam, and her harness. “There seems to be some pressure points here, probably causing some pinching.” He ran his hand over her arm, examining the mechanisms. “How is this powered? There’s no way you could charge something like this in the undercity with basic power lines.”

The Doctor stiffened, honestly unsure if they should tell Jayce. On one hand, being honest would make sure they got everything fixed. On the other hand… she wasn’t sure how he’d react to Sevika using shimmer. It didn’t exactly have the best reputation…

But before she could speak Sevika did for her. “What do you think?” She asked gruffly. She looked down at the floor, her gaze slowly trekking up his body.

His eyes widened, backing away. He looked to The Doctor as if she’d have a different answer. She simply stumbled over her words, then looked down and bit her lip. “I…” He said. “Shimmer? You have me working on shimmer tech?” He said with a laugh of disbelief. “You can’t- You’re against shimmer! You know what it does!” He stood up, his chair flying out from under him, screeching as it slid back.

Viktor tried to quickly stand, but fumbled, falling back into the seat. “Jayce-“ He started.

“No. Viktor, I can’t work on something running on that.” He pointed a finger at him, then at Sevika. “And I want her out of my lab.” He frowned, looked her up and down, then turned and made his exit.

“That went as well as I thought it would.” Sevika mumbled with a scoff. The Doctor sighed, seeming used to it.

“Can’t tell you how many doors we had to replace in his dorm room.” She grumbled.

Then she turned her focus to Viktor. “I’m sorry we caused a stir. I hope he’s not like that often with you. Let me know if I need to have a discussion with him about minding his temper.” she seemed.. pissed, her eyes narrowing. It was, admittedly, hot, Sevika thought. But that thought was quickly squashed.

Viktor huffed a laugh. “You know him. He’s… Passionate.” He stood slowly, balancing on his crutch. “But… You should know, I am as talented as Jayce.” He placed a hand on The Doctor’s shoulder. “Meet me here. Tonight. We will talk.” He smiled at her and continued on, hobbling out the door. Presumably to follow Jayce.

The doctor grinned to herself. It seems as if Jayce found someone that could keep up with him and then some. Good. He needed someone like that. She watched him leave, her hip cocked a bit.

She turned to Sevika, “Well, that solves that.” She said, offering a pleasant smile to her, hoping to receive back… well, praise, if she was being honest with herself. It’s what she thrived off of, what kept her working so hard, being noticed and appreciated by others. Well, that and improving people’s lives of course.

“Damn. I didn’t expect the little guy to go against him.” She said with a laugh. “Good for him.” She stood up, giving The Doctor a pat on the head. “Good job not entirely fucking up.” She said with a slight smirk. That was the best she was gonna give.

The walk back to the undercity was distinctly not in silence, unlike before. The Doctor seemed rejuvenated, and Sevika couldn’t tell if it was because she got to see Jayce, or if it was due to herself. Part of her wished for the later, which irritated her.

When they parted ways, Sevika made her way to the brothel again. Distinctly looking for a woman, Clara, who may look distinctly similar to The Doctor.

[rose24207]

Shattered trust

Summary: Lando dumps you for another woman, but soon regrets it and tries to win you back.

Genre: Angst

TW: break up, leading on, tears

A/N: feeling angsty today! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Lando didn’t know what had gotten into him. He couldn’t think straight. The weight of the past few weeks felt like a suffocating blanket, pressing down on him as if it would crush him. His chest ached with a kind of emptiness that he couldn’t escape, and yet, he had no one to blame but himself.

He had done it. He had actually ended it with you. The woman who had always been there for him, who had always supported him, who had never wavered in her loyalty and love. And for what? For some fleeting infatuation. A new, exciting person who made him feel desired in a way that you never had to. A person who, in the end, had only led him on.

Lando ran a hand through his hair, the frustration and guilt eating him up inside. He could still remember the day he walked out of your life.

Flashback

The moment he told you those words, his world had come crashing down.

Lando had always been honest with himself, but in that moment, he had become a stranger to his own feelings. When he looked at you, something in him told him that this wasn’t right, but his pride had been louder than the truth. It was selfishness. Pure and simple.

"I think we should end this," Lando had said, his voice strained as though the words were being dragged out of him.

You had looked at him, your face filled with disbelief. "What are you talking about?" you asked softly, your eyes searching his, trying to understand.

"I'm not happy," he lied, even though deep down, he knew it wasn’t true. He had been happy. He was content with you, with everything you had built together. But he had convinced himself that he needed more.

The guilt had started to gnaw at him as you stood in front of him, visibly stunned, as if trying to piece together the pieces of a puzzle that didn’t make sense.

"You’re not happy?" You swallowed hard, your voice cracking with emotion. "What does that even mean, Lando? What happened? We’ve been good… haven’t we?"

Lando wanted to take it all back. He wanted to hold you, to tell you that none of this was true, that he loved you and always would. But he couldn’t. He had already said it. He had already made his choice, and there was no going back.

“I’m sorry. But I’ve met someone else,” Lando had murmured, not looking you in the eyes. “I think… I think she’s the one for me.”

You froze, the words hitting you like a ton of bricks. “You met someone else?”

It was a punch to the gut, a blow he had never prepared for. His heart ached at the look of devastation that crossed your face. And still, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “I’m sorry, but it’s true,” he repeated, his words faltering now. “I need to be with her.”

You took a step back, the hurt in your eyes now replaced with confusion and anger. “Are you serious right now?” Your voice rose, and Lando could feel the sting of your words cutting deeper than anything else. “You’re choosing her over me? After everything?”

Lando opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How could he explain it? How could he explain that he had been feeling an emptiness he couldn’t define, that Elena had come into his life and made him feel alive, made him feel wanted in a way that you never had to?

"I’m sorry," Lando had said again, though his words seemed hollow, empty in the face of your pain.

You had turned away then, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, you’re not."

——

Lando’s head was spinning. A few days after breaking up with you, he found himself standing in front of Elena’s apartment, his mind full of questions. Elena had made him feel wanted, desired in ways that had been intoxicating. She was bold, confident, everything he had convinced himself he needed.

At first, he thought she was just fun, just a distraction. But the more time he spent with her, the more it seemed like she was everything he wanted. Everything he told himself you weren’t.

But the deeper he got into it, the more Lando started to see the cracks. Elena wasn’t who he thought she was. She had been manipulating him, using him to feed her ego, to make herself feel powerful. Every time they hung out, she would flirt with him, making him feel like he was the center of her world. But in the quiet moments when the fun and games died down, he could feel the distance. He could sense that she wasn’t in this for the long haul.

Still, he pushed those feelings aside, clinging to the idea of something new, something exciting.

It wasn’t until that fateful night that the mask finally slipped. He had shown up at Elena’s apartment unannounced, eager to see her, to prove that he had made the right decision in leaving you. But what he saw when he walked through the door shattered him.

Elena was sitting on the couch, her legs draped over another guy. The laughter in the room was sharp, cutting through the silence between them. Lando felt his blood run cold.

She looked up at him, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Oh, you’re here. I was just telling Ryan about how I met someone who thought he could have it all." She laughed again, the sound light and airy, as if the weight of his presence meant nothing.

Lando’s heart sank. His legs felt weak. "What… what is this?" he demanded, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Ryan, the guy on the couch, glanced at Lando with mild curiosity. "Oh, she didn’t tell you? Yeah, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now. I thought she’d mention it, but she’s been kind of busy with you lately."

Lando stood frozen in the doorway, his fists clenching at his sides. His whole body was screaming in fury, in betrayal. Elena had never cared for him at all. She had used him—used him to fill a void, to make her feel more powerful. He had been just another pawn in her game.

Elena looked at him, her expression cold and indifferent. "You were fun for a while, Lando. But you’re not really what I’m looking for. You’re too predictable, too safe. I need something more exciting, something spontaneous. You’re not that guy. You never were."

Lando’s breath caught in his throat. He had left everything—you, the only person who had ever truly loved him—because he thought he had found something better. But now he saw the truth. He saw how foolish he had been.

Elena had no real interest in him. She had only wanted a temporary distraction.

Present

Sitting in his car now, Lando clenched his jaw, his fists trembling with a mixture of regret and anger. He had ruined everything. He had thrown away the one good thing in his life—the one person who had always been there for him, who had made him feel complete.

He had told himself that he needed someone else, someone exciting, someone who made him feel wanted. But now, Elena was gone, and he was left with nothing. He had destroyed his relationship with you, and there was no way to fix it.

The silence in the car was deafening as he glanced at your building. He had tried to move on, but every time he closed his eyes, your face haunted him. The memory of your smile, the warmth of your touch, the way you loved him so unconditionally. It had all been real. But he had let it slip through his fingers.

Lando took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hands. He had to face the truth. He had to face the fact that he was the one who had made this mess.

He had to try to fix it.

Lando’s mind was racing as he stepped out of the car. His legs felt heavy as he walked toward your building, every step feeling like it was pulling him deeper into the dark reality he had created. His thoughts kept cycling back to you—the way you had looked at him that day, eyes full of confusion and pain.

He had left you without a second thought, convinced that he needed something more, something new, something that would make him feel like he was alive again. But now that he had everything he thought he wanted, he realized it had been nothing more than a hollow illusion.

With each step toward your apartment, his guilt grew heavier. He had broken your heart, betrayed your trust. He had sacrificed the love of the one person who had never let him down, for someone who had used him. Elena’s smile, the way she had taunted him with her laughter, still haunted him. It made him sick.

Lando reached the door to your apartment and hesitated for a moment. His hand trembled slightly as he knocked, the sound of his knuckles tapping against the wood almost too loud in the quiet hallway.

There was no answer at first, and for a moment, he thought about walking away. But he couldn't. Not now. Not after everything he had done. He needed to face the consequences of his actions. He needed you to know that he was sorry, that he had made a terrible mistake.

He knocked again, this time louder, his patience wearing thin. A moment later, the door opened, and there you stood. Your face was a mixture of shock and anger, but there was something else in your eyes—a vulnerability, an ache that Lando could see but was too afraid to acknowledge.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched on, suffocating. Lando opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

"I didn’t think you’d come back," you finally said, your voice tight with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” Lando whispered, his voice cracking. He swallowed hard and stepped closer, his heart pounding. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please… just hear me out.”

You crossed your arms, still standing in the doorway, but you didn’t push him away. There was an edge of caution in your stance, but beneath that, a flicker of something that made him believe there was still a chance.

“You left me, Lando,” you said softly, the words feeling like a slap in the face. “You didn’t even give me a chance to fix things. You just… walked away without any explanation.”

Lando closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back the tears that threatened to surface. “I was an idiot. I thought… I thought I needed something new. I thought she was different. But she wasn’t. She never cared about me, not like you do.” His voice cracked again, raw with emotion. “I made a mistake, and now I’ve lost you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your expression unreadable. “And what exactly do you think you can do now?” you asked, your voice trembling. “You think you can just show up here and fix everything? After what you did? After what you said to me?”

“I know I can’t fix it,” Lando said, his voice low and full of regret. “But I need to try. I need you to know how sorry I am. I was stupid, selfish, and I let the wrong person into my life. But the truth is… you were always the one. You were always the person I should have been with. And I was too blind to see it.”

You shook your head, your lips trembling. “You don’t understand, do you? You betrayed me. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, like everything we had didn’t matter. You broke me, Lando.”

The tears that Lando had been holding back finally spilled over. He wiped his face with his hands, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I need you to know that I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I was a fool for thinking that anything could be better than what we had.”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign that he was telling the truth. There was pain in your gaze, but there was also something else—something that Lando dared to hope was forgiveness.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you said quietly, your voice full of sorrow. “But I can’t just forget everything. You can’t just walk away and expect me to be waiting for you with open arms.”

“I don’t want you to just forgive me,” Lando whispered. “I want to earn your trust back. I want to show you that I can be the man you always deserved. And I’ll spend every single day proving it to you.”

There was a long pause as you stared at him, your expression softening ever so slightly. It wasn’t forgiveness yet, but Lando saw the flicker of something—the smallest glimmer of hope.

“You’ve hurt me, Lando,” you said, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can just let that go. You’ve taken everything from me.”

“I know,” Lando replied, his voice shaking with regret. “And I’m so sorry. I never should have done that to you. But please… I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. Just give me a chance.”

Another long pause passed between you, and Lando held his breath, waiting. His heart was hammering in his chest, praying that you would give him another chance.

Finally, you spoke, your voice soft but resolute. “I need time. I need to think about it.”

Lando nodded, relief flooding him even though he knew this was only the beginning. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

You stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come inside,” you said, your voice tinged with something Lando couldn’t quite place. He hesitated for a moment before stepping into the apartment, his heart pounding in his chest.

As the door closed behind him, Lando felt a flicker of hope. He had a long road ahead of him, but for the first time since the day he walked away, he felt like there was a chance to make things right. A chance to prove to you that he could be the man you deserved.

And that, for now, was enough.

Thank you for reading!

[carmyberzattosjournal]

S2 Entry 1: Want More?

Photo credit: Pinterest

Summary: Carmy needs to make his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) feel good after she has a grueling day at work. (1043 Words) SMUT.

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, p in v sex, finger sucking, dword use, Soft Dom!Carmy.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in CB Journals Season 2 and will be tagged with #cb journals s2.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Prompt: Snowstorm

I remember a conversation happening at Noma that went a little something like this: what is your favorite time and place to have sex?

I, of course, didn’t participate, being a socially terrified barely-adult who had no experiences (yet) and also too focused on my prep to hold a conversation—though the being focused part held more weight in my decision not to speak up because, and I hope I’ve established this, my connection to food is catastrophic. Talking divides attention. Humans are not built to multi-task; at best, we can flip back and forth between a few tasks in rapid succession, but if you wanted to get good at something—and I mean really good at something; knock people on their ass, smoke those motherfuckers for daring to challenge you—you need to cut out all the noise, bury all the bullshit, and put yourself to work.

So, yeah, I didn’t participate. I don’t even remember what the rest of the conversation was, I’ll be honest, because I tuned it out the moment I heard the question. But it’s been haunting me as of late. Not because I wanted to know what all the other chefs were talking about, but because I might have accidentally found the answer for myself.

Late November, about 10 pm or something. Wind howling against the windows, ice pelting the glass, no car horns, no trains, no people yapping or yelling outside, no noisy neighbors. This soft, gentle quiet that permeated the bone-crushing cold that was my apartment bedroom minus one radiator.

Because landlords are fucking demons.

The only other sounds are of us, of her moans, these saccharine, high-pitched, breathy noises that tumble from her mouth in a dulcet melody, the creaking of the bed, of the ragged breaths I’m dragging past my throat. Her hands are still cold as they rest limp against my abdomen but are warmer than they were when she first tangled them in my hair. She’s helpless, powerless, vulnerable; has forfeited her entire being to me. I’m cold, I’m tired, I’m mentally drained; do what you want to me, Carmy.

Do what I want? What I want is for you to feel like you’re in heaven, my love. I want to hear you whine in my ear about how good it feels, how full you are, how you don’t want me to stop. I want you to arch your back just. Like. That. And flutter around me with another mind-numbing orgasm, babble my name like it’s a prayer.

“Is that good, pretty girl?” I murmured in her ear. “Want more?”

I already knew the answer.

Didn’t mean hearing it wasn’t spine-tingling.

“Please, Carmy.” She weakly hiked her leg higher up my side.

“Please, what, princess?”

Did I understand what she meant? Yes. Even without her saying it, her leg tightening around me, the shadow of her larynx as she swallowed and fought for words, it told me everything I needed to know. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy making a mess of her. I love listening to her stumble over and give up on her words because she feels too good to corral them into a coherent sentence. Makes me feel powerful. In control. Fuck, I needed to feel like I was in control because everything else in my life was spiraling out of control.

“M-more… Harder…”

I hooked my hand under her knee and brought it up, fucking her even deeper. She arched her spine, threw her head back, swore.

“Like that?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes, just like that… Don’t stop…”

 She dragged her fingernails up my torso, dug them into my chest. She was so tight, so hot, so slick; I was fucking delirious. The only thing more important to me than my high was hers. I needed to hear her fall apart again. Come on, princess, show me how pretty you are when you come apart.

“Gimme another one, huh, pretty girl?”

Her coherence went two orgasms ago. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck… yes, sir… fuck, that’s so good… Please… please…” She didn’t even know what she was begging for at that point. It was just babbling. Her beautiful, complex, multi-faceted mind, forever going 7 directions at once, synthesizing information from everything and everyone, solving life’s most complex problems—off. Quiet. Empty Like the city outside, buried under 12 inches of snow. And the night was still young.

“Daddy, please…”

Daddy?

“Please, what, princess?”

She called me daddy?

“W-wanna cum…”

Fuck, I could get used to being called that.

I brought my hand down between us and rubbed her clit. She arched her back and whined my name. That’s it, pretty girl. That’s really fucking good, isn’t it? That’s exactly what my baby girl needed after such a rough day at work, huh? Needed Daddy’s dick filling you up and making you forget everything you were so stressed about.

She clamped a hand around my wrist, the one that was holding her leg, and dragged it up so she could close her lips around my thumb. She sucked, pressing her tongue against the pad, and despite my dulled sensations, it was fucking disastrous how fucking good that felt. It was a stunning sight—her eyes closed, cheeks reddened, sweaty hair sticking to her forehead, her plush lips around my thumb because she just needed a sensation in her mouth.

I could burn it into my memory if it wasn’t for how fucking close to coming apart I was. I didn’t have words. The heat in the pit of my stomach roared into an inferno, sent a wave of blistering warmth up my abdomen and my chest. Fuck, she was going to ruin me by being like this, and I wanted every bit of it. Please, keep being so needy. Please, call me Daddy again, beg me for more, whine my name, lose your words, suck on my thumb because all other sensibilities have escaped. You know I am for you; I want you to feel so good that you can’t think anymore. I need you to feel so good that you can barely breathe.

She pried her eyes open to meet mine.

“Go ahead, pretty girl,” I whispered.

Late evening. Middle of a snowstorm. That’s my answer.

Tags: @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899 @carmenberzattosgf

[dunya99]

you hate this weather. its stuffy, humid. you toss and turn, unable to sleep. the mixed feeling of the heat and the stickiness overwhelms you. you couldn’t sleep like this, muddy heat engulfing you. especially when you’re the type to who has to snuggle onto something in order to have a genuine good nights sleep.

you rose up, rubbing your eyes as your feet dangled off your bed. you sat there for a bit, staring at your feet and your bedroom floor that was messily decorated with clothes. quickly, your moments of silence was disrupted by a loud thud coming from the inside of your apartment. the thud shaking you fully awake. you stayed sat for a bit, processing and wondering what might of happened only to nail it down to an intruder. you got to your feet, kneeling under you bed to grab that metal bat you have stored for safety measures just like these.

you poked your head out your bedroom door on the lookout. scanning the area around you before sliding out your door as quietly as you could. once you made your way to your living room something wet lingers on your feet. the moonlight that casted through your large apartment windows confirming your worst nightmare, it was blood. before panic took you into insanity you look up only to notice a somewhat familiar figure sprawled out on your floor.

a toned male body with long limbs and hair, you only know one man like that. your ex boyfriend: suguru geto

thoughts and questions overwhelmed your brain as you stood there, staring at his body limp on your floor and making a mess out of his own blood. he was wearing a black shirt and his usual black baggy tracksuit, both clothing drenched in blood.

this is not the man you last remember seeing. the last time you saw your ex was when he told you about his dream. a dream of a world of only sorcerers. when he first told you his plan you couldn’t help but crack a smile, assuming what he just said was some sort of sick joke. but he wasn’t joking. his face was still, his eyes scanning the muscles on your face as you slowly realised this isn’t some funny silly joke. it’s wasn’t like him either way to joke. to be honest, you hate yourself for not seeing the signs before, it was so clear. the man you once love twisted into this new man. a stranger. even though that was years ago, it’s no surprise that a figure you recognise so much, looks somewhat morphed. morphed into something corrupted.

you walked up to him, still holding onto your metal bat, ready to possibly strike at any given moment. you finally have a clearer look of his now matured face. his face structured and chiseled with his own unique dark touches. blood was dried up on his forehead, that seemingly coming from his head. his prefect silky hair you used to happily clean for him now clumped up with scabs of blood. you slightly kick his body, wanting to wake him up yet still cautions, the metal bat still in its position. his eyes open and you wish they didn’t. you wish he somehow got his eyes gouged out so you could forget the way they swirled in the dark, wishing you could forget how the violet hues left your heart in a trance.

you stayed firm all though, not allowing that smile you used to kill to see get to you. he’s a dangerous man, you remind yourself, you need to report this to the higher ups. come on, fight him, do something! yet you can’t, your body frozen. he watches the way you react to him, he studies your face. the confusion and distraught making his smile depend. that prick.

‘hey.’ your brows knitted together, his voice broke when he spoke. your glad it did, not being able to hear his full on voice because if you did you might of smashed his head with the bat. your grip tightened on your bat which immediately caught his eye, making that stupid smirk you always use to love deepen.

“why are you here?’ you raise the bat higher, as if threatening him to answer. a chuckle left his mouth, suffocating your brain further before he spoke. ‘what happened to hello, princess? i’m hope you don’t welcome all your guests with a bat in their face.’

‘you’re not a guest. tell me why your here before i smash your head.’ he jokingly rolled his eyes, his brain cooking up a reply that you already know it’s something to purposely piss the hell out of you.

‘i just wanna know how you’re doing sweetie. is catching up with an old friend illegal all the sudden?’ you don’t budge, not giving him the satisfaction of pissing you off. he finally speaks up again after a moment of shared silence.

‘so i uh.. got into a little… fight. look i know you probably hate me an everything but is it too much to ask if you could help me? like back then when you used to always heal me. forget about all this stupid sorcery politics… i missed you.’

you cannot believe the nerve this guy has. sneaking into your apartment, getting your floor and carpet soaked by his own blood, trying to to charm his way back to you and then ask for a free healing? it sounds like he wants his last kiss to be your bat. he’s lying, you know he’s lying. he’s only here to use you he doesn’t care about you. war erupts in your brain, his words entering your ears with swords, slicing any rational thought you have, but not all.

‘no you don’t. suguru don’t do this to me. your lying to me aren’t you? tell me the truth.’

his violet eyes examine your face, an expression you couldn’t read on his face as he looks down, lifting his shirt to expose a large wound scraped across his stomach and chest. it was huge, the blood still not dried, only bubbling and gushing out. you lower your bat, squatting beside his body as you watched the cursed energy swirl and twist his insides.

‘look i know you don’t trust me but… can you just help me? you’re the only person i know who can help me. just… maybe make it stop… bubbling?’

you look at his face, that smirk and cocky expression switched to now worried, scared even, his eyes bulging out like a loss puppy. you don’t know when the last time you saw him like this or if you ever have seen him like this. to be honest, it scares you. he props himself to his elbows and you put your hand on his chest, pushing him back to remain lying down.

‘just this once.’

——————————————————————————

a/n: every time i come here and write it’s when im suffering the consequences of going overboard on leg day

[gracemain919]

(Not sure if you will answer this, but I’m going to ask anyway sorry if it’s long :P)

I can only imagine the STRESS having to do with seven (eight if you count “the mother”) fungus infected Yandere’s (+a whole military complex) so here’s my question:

How will they react to Y/N having a mental breakdown?

(sorry if angs)

(Thanks for the ask:), and yeah. The problem with having a decent amount of characters is that I have so many things to write/draw about them, but don't know what would and will be liked/needed. Also hoped I captured a good enough vision of a mental breakdown. Don't know if that is what you wanted;-;)

(The Fungus universe)

Tw: Yandere, manipulation, slight abuse.

Oh dear… it was anticipated you would suffer a lot of pressure and fear being randomly rocked from your old life to this one. Tears tainting your once joyful face while you lock yourself away from any prying eyes, and taking out your anger on any who dared to try and enter.

How the leaders react:

The Liar: Expected. You are only human after all. Humans crack under the slightest change, unlike his own kind. Still with you gone… No. He can't let you screw over his plans. If you want sympathy, then you won't get it.

You can't cry forever, and to be honest he doesn't care enough to take action. Sure, hide away from your problems. See if he does something about it, dear.

Still, if he really had to fix it, it would only take a simple lie. Nothing more.

Poison: Hmm… That was quicker than expected. Some people can endure the pressure for longer periods of time. That’s too bad. Poison will try to get to the source of the problem. Through the closed door, providing more drug-like, artificial solutions than actual support. Since she knows the only thing that would truly bring you joy is your freedom, and well… she can't give you that.

The Cannibal: Oh, oh, oh. Fuck did he cause that? No, no. How did he- How…?!

Imagine a buffering browser, that is him at that moment.

He really does not know what to do or what to say to make you feel better;-;

Doppelganger: What? Really? You hiding away in tears? Good god, always knows how to push his buttons in the middle of practice.

“Dear, open the door, please… I promise I can help you”

Can he help you? He is pretty sure he can, even if the ‘how’ of the matter is quite blurry. He will try to persuade you with pretty words and promises, but if those don't work… well… haha. That door might need to be broken off.

Illusionist: Why are you hiding? Did… did they do something wrong? They did… but it was for the betterment of everyone. You gotta trust them. Please…

You might hear muffled pleas from the other side of the door as the humanoid insect tries to get you to come out. Cries that closely resemble a child begging for their parent.

“Please, do you feel lonely? We won't ever leave your side again we promise! Do you need to see something cute? We will give you cats, please! Come. Out!”

That’s the most they will do… well until they decide the Doppelganger might be a good person to help them out.

The Eye in the Sky: What? He is too busy for that, god. Fine.

It might feel like an insult when you hear a worker coming to your aid instead of the man himself. He’s busy god dammit. He doesn't have time for your temper tantrum.

The Priest: Oh that happened? That's truly awful… Don’t worry he will help.

Standing behind the door he will simply wait.

“Don't worry, dear. I understand this might seem like the end of the world. Take the time you need. I will be waiting until you decide to come out”

He is a patient man. He can wait for as long as you need, and if you decide to leave he will be more than happy to hold you in a loving embrace.

His wife on the other hand… will smile and nod, but her aching fingers can't help but visualize the pretty idea of tearing that damn door off. Why would anyone want to hide from them? Preposterous! They are sweet as angels.

[grandmother-goblin]

A Good Kind of Distraction

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: Through no fault of his own, Halsin had been distracting Astarion - constantly invading his thoughts and just being annoyingly nice. Not only that, Astarion seemed to have bad luck while Halsin was around. Halsin always showed up at just the right moment to help him out, regardless of whether or not he needed it.

While searching for his missing dagger after a fight with some Stone Lord thugs, Astarion finds himself in trouble again and guess who is there to help him out?

Relationships: Astarion x Halsin

Rating: Teen (for some mild violence and blood)

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags: Fluff, humor, a little kissing, Halsin is a little bit sassy. Written for @silveredbark

Astarion’s heel dug into the sand as he yanked one of his daggers from the still-warm corpse of a dragonborn. The dragonborn, along with several other of his now deceased cronies, were in league with the Absolute. Well, technically someone called The Stone Lord, but that distinction didn’t matter much to him. From what Astarion had gathered from the heated argument he had overheard between the dragonborn and a Duergar Guild member, it was pretty much the same thing.

If the Stone Lord served the Absolute, and even the Guild was pushing back against them, then it made it all too easy for Tav to pick a side.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or however the saying went.

Besides, it was always a good idea to have friends in the Guild. Those bastards had their finger on every pulse point in the city — if Tav needed information, the Guild would likely have it and then some. For a fee, of course.

Seagulls cawed over Astarion’s head as they swooped past, returning to the beach one by one now that the fighting was over. The susurration of waves and the setting sun calmed the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. He had never spent much time at the beach in Baldur’s Gate; the icy sand and blackened waters under the cover of night had never appealed to him. But beneath the sunlight? It was actually quite lovely.

That was, of course, if one could ignore at least a dozen bodies strewn about.

Using the dragonborn’s shirt as a rag, Astarion wiped the blood from his dagger before he returned it to its sheath. He still had one more of his daggers to find somewhere between the bodies and the sand. Normally the sussur dagger stood out when he threw it, but apparently the beach provided perfect camouflage. While it wasn’t the end of the world if he had truly lost it, it would be disappointing.

Plus, Tav would never let him hear the end of it. That sussur bark had been a pain to harvest and that dagger had served Astarion quite well throughout their journey. He had actually become quite attached to it.

“Gotta say, I’m glad you guys showed up when you did,” the Duergar woman they had fought alongside said, a smile in her voice as she addressed Jaheira and Tav. “Stone Lord pricks might’ve taken out my crew if it wasn’t for you. I think the gnome pissed himself when Big Boy over there turned into a damn saber-tooth.”

From the corner of his eye, Astarion saw the Duergar nod toward where Halsin lounged wildshape. Blood of their foes soaked the fur around his muzzle still as he panted beneath the heat of the sun. It wasn’t uncommon for Halsin to linger in wildshape for a bit after a fight. There had been too many instances where they had thought the fighting was over only to be ambushed by someone hiding in the shadows a moment later. Though it only took Halsin a moment to don on the fur of a beast like Astarion would a cloak, it took significantly more energy.

Lately, Astarion preferred it when Halsin was in wildshape. For one, he couldn’t talk. Secondly, ‘Halsin, the Beast’ was far less distracting than ‘Halsin, the Man.’

If he was being completely honest with himself, Astarion wasn’t quite sure what to make of Halsin. He seemed like a good man. A genuinely good man, which was a rarity in Astarion’s experience. Part of him didn’t want to trust Halsin for that reason alone: no one was as kind and generous as he was without some ulterior motive.

Yet after weeks of traveling together, Astarion couldn’t for the life of him figure out what that ulterior motive could be. Halsin didn’t have to continue traveling with them — he didn’t have a tadpole and he had aided them more than most anyone else on their travels. If he decided that he had done his part, no one would hold it against him. There was so much work to be done to undo the effects of the Shadow Curse, but Halsin had put that aside in favor of continuing to aid them.

“Astarion,” Jaheira called from across the beach, pulling him from his thoughts. “We think that ship came from Moonrise. We’re going to take a look around for more information and try to figure out what they were up to. You’re welcome to join us if you’re done searching for seashells.”

Astarion nudged the corpse of a halfling man with his booted foot, spotting a hint of something silver beneath him. Unfortunately, it had only been part of the man’s belt.

Damn, where the hells had the sussur dagger gone? Surely his aim hadn’t been that terrible.

“You go ahead,” he replied distractedly. “I’ll catch up once I’ve found wherever my dagger lodged itself.”

“Check that alcove where some of them were hiding,” Tav suggested and nodded toward the cliff face that loomed over the small stretch of sand. “I think I saw something ricochet in that direction.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Astarion said, as if Tav should have known what he was looking for even though he had never verbalized it. “Do you enjoy watching me walking around looking like an idiot?”

Instead of taking the opportunity to sass him back, Tav simply shrugged and gave him a shit-eating grin before taking off after Jaheira.

Halsin, on the other hand, didn’t budge from his sunny spot in the sand except to watch their companions follow the Duergar toward the creepy ship. Perhaps he wasn’t interested in whatever the boat had to offer, which struck Astarion as odd. Normally, Halsin was the type to jump on any opportunity to investigate everything and anything involving the cult of the Absolute.

Once their companions disappeared from view, Halsin tilted his head toward him, his expression unreadable behind his wildshape. Astarion stared back with a furrow to his brow. What the hells was Halsin doing? Was he just going to—

Oh.

Halsin was babysitting him.

Astarion rolled his eyes at the realization and tried to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach. Deep down, he appreciated the gesture. Very, very deep down. Though Astarion wasn’t sure if Halsin’s watchful eye came from a place of genuine care or from the fact Astarion had a tendency to get himself into trouble.

Trouble that, without anyone’s help — especially not Halsin’s — he was perfectly capable of getting himself out of, thank you very much.

But as much as he hated to admit it, Halsin was directly responsible for saving his ass more than once.

Maybe twice.

Actually, it was closer to a dozen times, but Astarion didn’t want to think about that. He just happened to have quite a bit of bad luck when Halsin was around. That was all.

Astarion groaned as he kicked away some sand covering something shiny, hoping to spot his dagger buried beneath.

Seashell. Dammit.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” he called across the beach.

Halsin‘s ears twitched toward the sound of his voice, then he tilted his head and raised one furry eyebrow as if to say ‘Really?’

Astarion threw up his hands. Fine. If the druid wanted to watch him, he could go ahead and watch the breathtaking performance of The Idiot Who Lost His Irreplaceable Dagger.

It was sure to be thrilling.

The bastard could help, but no. It seemed like he was perfectly content to stay exactly where he was.

Making his way to the alcove Tav had mentioned, Astarion checked the bodies of a tiefling man and a gnomish woman as he went with no sign of the sussur dagger. It wasn’t until he got close to the mouth of the alcove that he spotted a glint of blue on the ground where the sand met sandstone.

“There you are,” Astarion muttered as he retrieved his dagger. It was a little scratched up, but it seemed otherwise undamaged.

Relieved, he tucked the dagger into his belt where it was easiest to grab if he needed it. Not that he thought he would need it again today, but one could never know.

Astarion glanced at a narrow opening toward the back of the alcove. Though he couldn’t see far into it, he noticed a few dots of lantern light lining the walls and casting a dim glow in a yawning cavern, stuffed with crates and boxes and makeshift furniture. So that explained why those thugs were hanging out of the beach — they had a whole hideout back there.

Amidst all of the fighting, he vaguely recalled the supposed leader of the group shouting for additional backup, only to be told by one of the thugs that all of their crew was already on the beach.

Which meant that, if they had any valuables tucked away in that hideout, they were completely unguarded. Maybe some gold, jewelry, and — judging by the creepy boat — even secrets directly from Moonrise Towers. All of it prime for the taking.

Or they could just have drugs and a couple of cheap bottles of wine. It really could go either way with those sorts.

In any case, they always needed more supplies. And gold. Especially now they were practically in the city and they had significantly more, and better, shopping options than when they were on the road.

Gods, what he wouldn’t give for some new clothes and a nicer pair of boots. The kind of garments that Cazador would let him wear, but never let him own. It had been decades since he had gotten new clothes he could call his own, but Astarion had done plenty of window shopping. He knew exactly where he was going to go with some gold to spend.

Perhaps Halsin could get something too. Something that wouldn’t make him stand out so much in the city. Between his stature, his druidic attire, and that sometimes blank and mildly confused look on his face, the man was a prime target for the numerous criminals crawling around the city. Halsin could certainly handle himself, but Astarion would much rather Halsin avoided advertising his newcomer status.

For everyone’s convenience, of course. Not because Astarion worried for him or something ridiculous like that.

Hells, maybe if he was lucky, he might find some clothes in the hideout. He didn’t have high expectations as to the quality of those clothes, but perhaps there could be a hidden gem or two. They had certainly found plenty of treasures in unlikely places on their travels.

Astarion ducked into the hideout, his eyes quickly adjusting to the much dimmer lighting of the cave. Well, once he was inside, he realized it was more of a tunnel than a cave — it let out into the ocean not fifty meters away. A few empty rowboats, tied to a shoddy, rotting dock, rocked in the gentle current far beyond where the sunlight could reach.

Beside the rowboats and a couple of crabs skittering along the shoreline, the place was as abandoned as Astarion expected. A half eaten sandwich laid atop of a barrel alongside an empty tin mug, lantern light still illuminating a newspaper some anonymous thug must have been reading before being called into their last battle.

Their own fault, really. If they valued their hides, the rowboats were right there. They could have turned the other way instead of throwing away their pitiful lives in the name of the Boulder Boss or whatever he was called. The Stone Lord. Something to do with rocks.

Oh well, it wasn’t his problem.

His boots were nearly silent against the sand covered floor as he ventured deeper into the hideout, his head on a swivel and his hand on his dagger just in case anyone had been left behind. Besides the sound of water and the echoes of the cave, Astarion couldn’t hear anything that would point to any signs of life (if one did not count the crabs). No voices, no breathing, no movement besides his own.

Tucked in a narrow offshoot, well out of sight of either of the entrances Astarion could see, he found exactly what he was hoping for: gold.

And plenty of it.

Crates and crates overflowing with gold, gems, weapons, and all sorts of shiny things. Also some barrels full of illithid tadpoles and metal boxes of what looked like infernal metal. Tav had made the right call by siding with the Guild, Astarion noted dully. Whoever these people were were obviously not the type to help their cause.

But Astarion was certainly the type to help himself.

Astarion completely intended to inform Tav of the hidden trove, but only after he snuck a few coins and pawnable goods for himself before it went into the general camp supplies. Not that Astarion typically minded the system Tav had worked out to make sure everyone got their fair share of the spoils, he just wanted a little extra that was just for him for something frivolous.

Call it a finders fee.

His eyes landed on a small wooden chest, already opened, a pile of gold coins and shiny gemstones beckoning him. The mound of treasure divoted in the center as if someone had been sifting through the riches. Astarion scooped up a handful of the coins and let them fall through his fingers. The weight and the texture of the metal seemed authentic, and—

“It’s mine!”

Astarion’s feet lifted off the ground and his back slammed against the cave wall, a sharp pain running down his side. A gaunt, jaundiced man with browned teeth and bloodshot eyes glared at him as his boney fingers dug into Astarion’s neck with enough force to strangle a man who actually needed to breathe.

A yelp of pain and some choice words for the gentlemen gathered in his throat came out as gurgling groan, unable to escape the man’s ironlike grip. Astarion blindly reached for his dagger, panic and surprise and pain making his normally deft hands clumsy.

“Not gonna share,” the man snarled, his voice like a creaking graveyard gate and his breath like a crypt. “Not gonna—”

Astarion plunged the dagger into the man’s back without a shred of mercy. Bastard forfeited his life the moment he attacked.

The man jerked away with a snarl of pain, yanking the dagger out of Astarion’s grip with the movement, leaving it lodged in his flesh. Those boney hands tightened their grip around his throat, and he pulled Astarion away from the wall just long enough to slam him against it again.

Blackness colored his vision when the back of his head collided with the stone. A cold sweat broke across his skin as he struggled, his feet slipping on the sand-covered ground and his hands unable to find anything else to use as a weapon.

Fuck. It was only a matter of time before the bastard realized that strangling a vampire wouldn’t kill one and he resorted to something else.

Astarion dug his nails into the man’s wrists until blood wetted his fingertips, desperately prying and pulling with no avail. The man was unnaturally strong. Stronger than any man who looked so sickly had any right to be.

Frantic, Astarion’s eyes darted around looking for something he could use.

Anything he could use.

Come on, think! An all too familiar feeling of helplessness flooded into his mind, telling him to simply stop fighting. Stop fighting because he would only make things worse for himself, and the severity of Cazador’s punishment would increase tenfold.

Astarion shoved the thought from his racing mind. This wasn’t Cazador, and he wasn’t helpless. But fuck, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have—

A screeching roar cut the air like a knife through parchment. The hands around his throat ripped away in a flash of brown and white fur, Astarion’s body following like a ragdoll from the sheer force of the moment. The sharp pain in his side screamed as he landed among the pile of treasure and he instinctively took a gulp of air he didn’t need.

Disoriented and trying to ignore the pain, he scrambled backwards to locate his opponent.

Then he heard the distinct crunch of bone, and Astarion’s head whipped toward the sound just in time to see the man’s body go limp in the jaws of a saber toothed cat.

Of course it was Halsin.

Astarion slumped back against the gold and closed his eyes. Part of him was relieved. Thankful for the timely rescue.

Another part of him was very, very, annoyed.

“Astarion,” Halsin said, his voice a mixture of concern and relief, as he practically skidded to a stop beside him, tufts of fur trailing behind him from dismissing his wildshape. Golden healing magic gathered around Halsin’s fingertips as his eyes darted over Astarion’s form — from his torso, to his hip, to his neck, to his face, then back to his hip.

Halsin lowered his hands to the spot on Astarion’s hip with a grimace that no one ever wanted to see from a healer, “Don’t look.”

Astarion looked.

Nausea churned in his stomach at a strip of white between the bloodied, torn, flesh of his hip. Good gods. Astarion vaguely remembered the sharp pain in his side before the man had tried to choke him out, but he wasn’t expecting that.

“I’m going to be sick,” he croaked, the damage to his throat making it difficult to talk.

“I told you not to look,” Halsin replied, his hands steady over Astarion’s hip as his magic soaked into him, soothing as a warm bath. “If it’s any reassurance, it looks nastier than it actually is.”

Astarion wasn’t sure if that was true, or if Halsin was attempting to assuage his discomfort. The thought made him scoff. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Cazador had done far, far more damage to him than anything on their adventures with Tav. Getting attacked by a strange man in a cave was barely worth a footnote in the pages upon pages of horrors Astarion had endured over the centuries.

But with Cazador, Astarion never had a stupidly kind druid ready to patch him up.

“I’m sure you have,” Halsin replied, the sound of sympathy still so unfamiliar that it felt almost mocking. Astarion knew that wasn’t the case, yet he clenched his teeth. “Now stop talking while I take care of your neck.”

Begrudgingly, Astarion kept his mouth shut as Halsin’s hands hover over his bruised throat. Despite how his adrenaline-fueled mind screamed at him not to let anyone near his neck, he managed to himself calm.

Halsin wasn’t going to hurt him.

Somehow, deep in his gut, Astarion knew that to be true.

“Never thought I would say this,” Halsin commented as his rough fingertips brushed over Astarion’s neck with a featherlight touch, the healing magic seeping through Astarion’s skin and soothing his pain. “But you’re extremely lucky you’re a vampire. Had this happened to anyone else…. Well, I would have had to prepare something more complex than a simple healing spell.”

Though a sarcastic reply danced on the tip of his tongue, Astarion only hummed in response since he wasn’t supposed to talk. He probably wasn’t supposed to hum either, considering how the small vibration aggravated his throat.

Oh well. Like he had said before: Cazador had inflicted worse on him. Comparatively speaking, he might as well have just stubbed his toe.

Halsin’s hands carefully moved to the sides of Astarion’s neck, just below his jawbone, his hazel eyes warm but focused as he worked. Astarion swallowed and averted his gaze.

It wasn’t until that moment that he realized how intimate their position was — Astarion on his back with Halsin kneeling over him. Though Halsin was politely seated to his side, Astarion couldn’t help but imagine if the situation was slightly different. He quickly pushed the thought aside. Now was not the time to imagine being straddled by a handsome, caring, druid.

Halsin’s gentle touch tickled the nape of his neck. “Lift your head.”

Trying to ignore the sudden wave of goosebumps across his skin, Astarion did as he was told. Though he could already guess at the answer by the way his throat felt, he asked, “Does this mean I can talk now?”

“You may,” Halsin replied as his fingers slipped through Astarion’s hair, the healing magic now focused on the spot on the back of his head where he had been slammed against the wall. Then, Halsin’s throat bobbed and he turned his eyes towards the pile of treasure. “But I don’t encourage it.”

“Why not? My throat feels fine now, thanks to your magic druid nonsense or whatever spell you’re using.”

Halsin shook his head. “Because you can be quite distracting.”

Something in the way Halsin spoke stirred up over-eager butterflies in Astarion’s stomach. Though it was entirely possible that Halsin was being very literal and simply didn’t want to be distracted while he worked, Astarion couldn’t help but feel like there was another meaning behind his words.

What if Halsin was distracted by Astarion the same way Astarion was distracted by him? What if….

“In a good way or a bad way?” Astarion asked before he could get ahead of himself.

“Both,” he replied, a hint of playfulness in his voice and undeniable warmth and affection in his gaze. “But if it’s any consolation, you’re mostly the good kind of distracting.”

Astarion’s stomach did a moronic little flip, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So would something like this be the good kind of distracting or the bad kind of distracting?” he asked as he lifted his hand to the back of Halsin’s head, the warmth making him want to bury his fingers in his long hair.

“The bad kind,” Halsin said as his hand moved to a tender spot on the back of his skull that he didn’t even realize he had. “At least, it is for the next ten seconds. But after I’m done healing…”

The glowing golden magic that spiraled from Halsin’s thick arms to his skillful fingers dissipated, leaving them in the dim light from a single lantern hanging from the wall. His eyes locked onto Astarion’s, his expression softening as they watched one another, both of them waiting for someone to see what the other would do next. Neither one of them wanting to make the first move.

Perhaps, Astarion thought, it would be for the best if they both just decided to leave things as they were. Astarion would thank Halsin, Halsin would tell him to be more careful, then they’d go and tell Tav and Jaheira about the cave and all of the loot that was inside.

The moment would be dead and buried, and maybe that was how it should be. After all, what did someone like Astarion have to offer a man like Halsin?

Nothing. That was what.

But when Halsin’s eyes dropped to Astarion’s lips, the hesitation and doubt tying back his desires — what he wanted — unraveled. Damn, maybe it was impulsive, or maybe he was reading too much into the situation. After all, he did just get knocked around pretty hard, and yet…

What the hells.

Astarion’s fingers traced Haslin’s pointed ear as he slid his hand through silky brown hair. “May I distract you now?” he asked, lifting his face close enough to Halsin's that he could feel his breath against his lips.

Halsin chuckled warmly. “I hope you will,” he said as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Astarion’s with a soft, light kiss. The kind of kiss that was so foreign to him that it made it feel like his chest was about to bust with…. Oh, Astarion didn’t know. Something warm and fuzzy that he never thought he would feel again.

“But,” Halsin said as he drew back, his gaze dark with desire but unmistakably happy, “we should get back to the beach before the others start wondering where we went.”

”They can wait a few minutes.” Before Halsin could put any distance between them, Astarion captured the other man’s mouth with his. His hands tangled in Halsin’s hair as he deepened the kiss, nipping gently at his lower lip as he clung to him like he was afraid he was going to change his mind.

The tip of Halsin’s tongue brushed against his, sending a shiver down his spine. Damn it — Astarion didn’t even know if this meant anything to Halsin but he wanted it to. He wanted to be more than just a bit of fun for him. Though he knew Halsin didn’t hold himself back when it came to his most carnal desires, Astarion also believed Halsin wasn’t the type to be careless with another’s heart.

Halsin groaned and pulled Astarion closer, inhaling deeply like he was breathing in his scent, and—

“Footprints lead this way.” Jaheira’s voice cut through the growing haze of lust like a light in the dark.

“They couldn’t stay put for ten minutes?” Tav said, sounding more annoyed than concerned. “Astarion, I expect to wander off, but Halsin?”

“I’ll bet you a gold piece that Astarion probably did something stupid again,” Jaheira replied.

“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet.”

Halsin’s lips drew into a thin line as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. “If they ask,” he said, offering Astarion a hand as he got to his feet, “we had to go after a straggler.”

Astarion scoffed as he accepted Halsin’s hand, gold coins clinking beneath him as he stood. “Isn’t that what happened? I mean, we did take care of that brown-toothed menace over there.” He cocked his thumb towards the corpse that he had honestly forgotten about until that moment.

“Exactly,” Halsin replied. “I’m just going to leave out the part where you wandered in here by yourself without telling anyone.”

The lingering tingle on his lips from Halsin’s kiss did not stop Astarion from rolling his eyes. “Oh, you are so kind.”

“I’m detecting some sarcasm,” Halsin said with a chuckle. “Come on. Let’s get back to the others. Perhaps I can distract you later.”

Judging by the look in Halsin’s eyes and the fluttering feeling in his own stomach, Astarion had no doubts about that.

Only a few steps from the entrance to the cave, Astarion gave a frustrated groan. He turned sharply on his heel and began to trudge back in.

“Where are you going?” Halsin asked.

Astarion didn’t even want to look at Halsin as he answered, “I forgot my damn dagger.”

---

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated!

[lukaalnst-official]

Till, you got something wrong.

Music may not be something I always enjoyed, but Hyuna showed me that music can be much more. You can think whatever you want, or whatever that makes me look worse. But I also worked for my place, I worked to become perfect. I worked to rule the stage. Hyuna gave me a reason to sing and entertain, she inspired me.

As for being a Trophy. It’s better than being nothing. Maybe one day learn,It’s better than being shit. My name is out there because of my hard work. Maybe I will one day get replaced, but it’s better to keep working than not. I’m not like you Till like you said. Pets are made to obey there guardians. To please and entertain. It’s the way life works. Why don’t you just accept it?

When you saw Mizi, what did you think was gonna happen? She was going to save you? Even if you did grab her hand. What you think would happen? Now because of you, she probably will take your place, and go back to performing. To be honest, you put her in a more dangerous situation than you were in. You could just simply died and Mizi could be free. you say that you care for her so much, but she will probably get punished and taken back.

And yes I do believe I’m perfect. I mean? I’m Luka. I know how to survive. If I was like you, I would been dead a longgg time ago. Yes, maybe you were loved and cared for. But what’s the point? Ivan is dead because of you, Mizi probably will get taken back, Your mother. Well I mean you died. So?

And I don’t need a Mother. All I need is my Guardian. Maybe if you listened to your guardian, you would still be alive and could have beaten me. My father made me perfect, which is the only thing that should matter. Your mother did teach you too sing, so why did you die? If it meant that much to you.

I sing for Hyuna, she showed me how much she loved to sing. Your mother taught you to sing, so why did you fail that miserably? If you knew that your mother was scared of you being in Alien stage. Then right on the moment you stepped that alien stage. That should have been your motivation.

Till you don’t need people to care for you. All you need is to survive. That’s all that matters. Your opponents are mere pawns. They shouldn’t matter. Only thing that should matter is survival. Which you, Ivan and all the others suck at. Alien stage isn’t a kids game. We are not in Anakt garden anymore.

You did have talent. But you didn’t have a brain. Even after all your guardian did for you, you didn’t learn a single thing. Not even a single survival skill. Your the definition of a wasted potential.

my hands are fucking freezing. what the hell is going on.

[seventeenlovesthree]

Since it's my personal mission to make everybody watch the Digimon Adventure Tri Stage Play, I dug up one of my favourite interviews again. I owe the producer my life, because he simply managed to create the best piece of Digimon Adventure media since Adventure itself (in my opinion almost as amazing as Our War Game and that MEANS something). However, I saw a few people being confused about a few things, so I wanted to clarify:

"Wait, is the Stage Play just Tri's story but done on stage?"

Nope, it does take place during the Tri era (between the third and fourth movie to be exact), but it is an original (side) story that can be watched without having any knowledge of Tri or Tri's plot.

"Does the story take place in the real or in the Digital World?"

That would actually be a spoiler and since there is no easy answer to this, I'm gonna say you have to watch it for yourself.

"Are the characters like in the original or like in Tri?"

That's the fun part - of course there are glimpses and pieces of the Tri characterizations, but the producer really did his very best to adapt the characters faithfully and as respectfully from the original source material as much as he could and I think you can feel that:

"To be honest, the generational timing was a little off for me, so I had never seen Digimon before. After I received the request for the stage play, I watched all of it, including the original TV series and the movie series, but I didn’t expect that I’d be crying so many times. It was a story of human growth and Digimon evolution being deeply intertwined, and I watched as that growth and evolution was overlaid with so many other things. Maybe it was because I watched it as an adult, but I was able to see it from all sorts of perspectives in regards to “people growing”. (...) While I’ve worked with other people’s stories and made plays out of them several times, it was usually in the sense of taking the original work’s story and repurposing it for the stage format. But for this one, even though I’m borrowing the original series’s characters, the story is being written from scratch, and it’s my first time writing words for characters that were created by other people. It was a high level of difficulty, and I still feel it even now. Also, it made me wonder how the scriptwriters for the anime must have done this. They were also writing the same characters in the same world, while sharing that job with tons of other people. It’s amazing that they were able to do that. But, naturally, it wasn’t just full of difficult and painful things, but once the story properly got going, I got to hear the lines I was writing in the voices of the characters from the original series, and getting to savor those kinds of moments was very fun. Someone like me, who works in the theatre field, gets to take over the job of writing the lines of characters made by others. And then I have Toei check over it, and we get even closer to the mark. So in other words, we bring these characters to life by sharing them between everyone. And especially in the case of Digimon, it was an interesting experience in that there wasn’t just one writer or director, but rather that everyone had their own version of Taichi and Yamato, and the dialogue was born from between all of that.

"Anything else I need to know?"

If you are able to see past some cringe, don't mind nostalgia baiting and are okay with a few... Questionable scenes in regards to the main antagonist (which you will definitely know if you've watched the original Adventure series), you will enjoy this.

Also, personally, I'd say this is the order of plot relevance of each human character, so if your favourite characters are in the top half of the list (and even if they're not), you are likely to have fun:

Taichi

Jyou

Koushirou

Yamato

Mimi

Hikari

Sora

Takeru

[sunsetandthemoon]

lmao thank you for your service on the earthmix post, whether its a somewhat pr guided story or simply how they are, they are at the very least entertaining and honestly if only all fighting co-workers/friends would vague tweet melodramatic heartbreak lyrics the world would be a better place :') hopefully we'll get to see them in another show at some point

Yeah, it’s always tricky to know what’s actually real in the sea of fan service and PR (almost nothing is lbr) but EarthMix’s love language seems to be constant bickering and they did genuinely look like they were going through it, so it’s not that far-fetched to believe that one of their quarrels went a bit too far and resulted in this messy fight.

I don’t think any of it was fabricated, they’re really just that dramatic and had to make it everyone’s problem lmao like pls the drama of it all 😭

EarthMix’s crash course on how to deal with getting into a fight with your bestie:

sit down and talk it out with them (like the adults that you’re supposed to be) ❌

start being melodramatic on main and post vague tweets about them (and continue doing it for months on end until your poor manager finally has enough, locks you in a room, and forces you two to talk) ✅

All jokes aside, they never once let their fight affect their work and they remained strictly professional and delivered stellar performances, so I think they should’ve been allowed to be as messy as they wanted on Twitter dsfhjsdkf

[neixins]

[ID: a panel from “yona of the dawn” showing yona and hak standing back to back. yona says, “hak, let me stay by your side.”; hak’s eyes are wide in surprise. end ID.]

[PT: “akatsuki no yona (2009-?) by kusanagi mizuho”. end PT.]

AKATSUKI NO YONA (2009-?) by kusanagi mizuho

[tariah23]

They’re calling my baby Gojo, Joseph Joestar now

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[brairslair]

just thinking abt relationship dynamics with the op boys <33

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors dni)

a/n: currently have one piece brain rot and it is consuming me so here’s this! fem!reader and very suggestive + mentions sex, but no actual smut. NOT PROOFREAD 🙏🏻

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes me day mwah

“of course i’m serious”

luffy:

in usual luffy fashion, one of your very first interactions ends with him trying to convince you to join his pirate crew

at first you’re hesitant, rightfully so, having just met the guy

however, you’re quickly persuaded by his happy-go-lucky personality and loyalty to his crew

after finally joining the crew yourself, your relationship with luffy gradually melts from just being friendly crew mates to being so close that you would put your life on the line for him at a moment’s notice

he seems to have that effect on people

while you grow close with all of the strawhats, your relationship with luffy is different

within a few months you already feel like you’ve known him your entire life

the two of you never have a dull moment together

while you love to entertain his antics, you also know when to stay level headed and keep him grounded

and while your work ethic is always valued on the ship, luffy can always get you to relax and have a good laugh when you need a break

eventually the two of you start to literally finish each other’s sentences, and it freaks everyone else out every time

you balance each other out perfectly

the two of you can talk and laugh for hours and not get tired of each other’s company

definitely tries to teach you a little portuguese but does not have the patience

you guys have friendship bracelets and he never takes his off

over the years, your relationship begins to grow from best friends to something more

you notice the shift far before luffy does

luffy picks up on little changes, like the weird tingly feeling he gets in his stomach when he makes you laugh

he doesn’t really think much of it though and brushes it off

probably assumes he’s just hungry…

in fact, luffy probably doesn’t really comprehend his feelings until someone spells it out for him, but in his head it doesn’t really change anything

you’ve always been his go to, and that won’t change now

the shift from platonic to romantic is gradual, natural, and if you ask robin, entirely inevitable

(she predicted this from the very beginning when the crew met you in your hometown)

he’s confident and honest with you in sharing the way he feels once he comes to the realization, and you allow him the same courtesy

he doesn’t feel any reason to hide or be embarrassed about his feelings

to him, being your boyfriend just means being your best friend except better because you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff

nothing is awkward when you start dating

it just feels right

he’s always been a very touchy person, even before you started dating

now that you’re together though, he loves cuddling

sleeping just isn’t as comfy anymore if he isn’t laying on you

definitely bites you sometimes and he says it’s because you’re so awesome that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself

he holds your hand all the time and likes to swing them back and forth when you walk together

he also likes to carry you on his shoulders because it makes you laugh

he doesn’t really use pet names for you often, if at all, but he really likes it when you use them for him

will, however, give you absolutely ridiculous nicknames that he finds cute

he has obviously never had a girlfriend before you

he wasn’t really concerned with romance or sex at all actually until you

you definitely have to teach him a lot

like what you’d like to do on dates

and how to kiss

luffy didn’t really understand the appeal of kissing, but you seemed to want to do it so he figured he’d give it a try

after kissing you for the first time he can’t get enough

definitely understands now

a super messy kisser (ofc)

gets giddy when you smile or laugh into his kisses

he smiles into your kisses a lot himself because he’s just so happy to be with you

you also have to teach him about the concept of pda and public etiquette, because otherwise he just does not care and will literally start making out with you in front of the entire crew simply because he wants to kiss you

sex is of course also very new to luffy, and like kissing, he does not understand the appeal until you test the waters with him and his mind is blown

he didn’t realize it would be so fun

it’s almost always sloppy, but he’s very attentive to your requests and desires

he takes in everything you teach him and improves upon it, because he loves making you happy more than anything

kind of a little shit sometimes though because he definitely overstimulates you without even realizing it

never intentionally mean though, but can be a huge tease entirely by accident

loves giving you pretty things he finds like rocks, shells, and any cool trinkets he finds laying around

he just gets so excited to share everything with you, and you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about everything

even if it seems as simple as finding a cool rock

other than sprinkling in more couple-y things, your relationship dynamic really does remain the same as it had always been, best friends

the two of you never take life too seriously, and just allow yourselves to enjoy each other’s company

luffy may not be the most “romantic” boyfriend in a traditional sense, but he will do absolutely anything to see you happy and safe, and you the same for him

he doesn’t need to do any grand gestures to give you butterflies in your stomach

you are each other’s safe space

the two of you said the L word to each other well before you became a couple, but the first time he says it romantically is when you personally cook a three course meal and bake him his favorite sweets to celebrate his birthday

saying those words to each other feels so natural that you almost don’t realize you hadn’t been saying it this whole time until now

will willingly share his food with you if you ask, which is genuinely mind blowing to everyone including yourself

if he proposes to you it will be super out of the blue and unplanned, completely catching you off guard

the two of you could just be talking, having a normal conversation, maybe getting some work done around the ship, when all of a sudden he’s just like

“hey, do you wanna get married?”

probably heard sanji talking about weddings or something and was like, oh! we’re in love, we should get married too!

obviously you can’t legally get married being pirates trying to slip under marine radar, so luffy has franky make you both simple rings out of pieces of sea glass you picked out

the rings have each other’s initials engraved into them

after that, the two of you consider yourselves married and the rest of the crew follows suit

not much changes in your relationship other than your titles

he’ll proudly tell people you’re his wife if you do something cool in a fight or someone asks about you or something

but even without a proposal or a ring, the two of you were always going to be forever

zoro:

when you first meet zoro, you see him as cocky, brazen, and extremely annoying

the two of you clash almost immediately

after luffy somehow manages to convince you to join the crew, the close proximity only makes it worse

the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, taking any opportunity to push each other’s buttons

nami often jokes that “the two of you bicker like an old married couple”, which does not go over well with either of you

for months the two of you are rivals, making everything a competition to see who’s better than the other

however, after a while you begin to see zoro’s true colors through the cracks

his dedication to his craft, the respect he has for luffy, the kindness he tries to mask beneath a hardened exterior, and his absolute undying loyalty

it makes you begin to wonder why you began to dislike him in the first place

over time, your bickering becomes less venomous and more playful, bantering back and forth for the fun of it

you pick up new habits like sparring with zoro every day, telling him it’s because “the only way to beat your rival is to know his weaknesses”

or zoro waking you up at the crack of dawn to do laps around the deck because he heard you say you weren’t a morning person once, except he brings you coffee exactly the way you like it, every time

eventually your relationship snowballs into friendship

the two of you still bicker and banter, butting heads every once in a while

but now you also laugh at each other’s jokes

and sit together in comfortable silence just to be in each other’s presence

and eventually, you get to the point where the two of you can share your deepest, darkest secrets, fears, and desires, that nobody else is allowed to hear

he makes you feel safe, and you know you are with him

without even realizing it, your relationship starts sinking into something much deeper than friendship

whenever you’re off the ship, zoro is almost always at your side, practically attached to you, making sure you’re never in harms way

the two of you can basically read each other’s minds, seemingly able to communicate without a single word shared between you

neither of you are even conscious of your feelings for one another until nami catches the two of you sound asleep on the desk with your head resting in zoro’s lap and runs to tell usopp

when you do begin to realize how you feel, neither of you bring it up, too afraid to ruin what you already have

but you don’t need to

your bodies and minds are practically interlinked, bending at each other’s will

your relationship stays mostly the same, only gradually and organically becoming closer

running errands together on new islands, napping together more often than you do apart, sitting next to each other during meals, etc

eventually your mutual feelings become almost unbearable, and you finally cross the line between friends and lovers

you would probably have to be the one to make the first move, because not only is zoro insanely stubborm, but he’s also uncharacteristically easily flustered

your first kiss feels like pieces clicking into place, or feeling the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter

as cheesy as it sounds, it feels like home

there’s no conversation about feelings, or asking you to be his girlfriend, you just are

like all the seasons of your relationship, the shift is slow, and goes unnoticed for a while by most of your crew mates

robin, nami, and usopp are the first to notice, seeing you fall asleep against his chest instead of his lap, or seeing you whispering secret conversations up in the crows nest when you think the others are asleep

eventually everyone is made aware of your relationship when you challenge zoro to a drinking game at a party, ending with you getting drunk off your ass and kissing him before immediately passing out against his shoulder

zoro is not a fan of pda, so for the most part, your relationship remains the same around the crew and on islands

still bickering and making up stupid competitions to challenge yourselves, but now theres a softer, more intimate side to your relationship

he will occasionally do passive agressieve little things to rub your relationship in sanji’s face though if he’s flirting with you too much for his liking

like whispering something dirty in your ear to make you get all flustered, or wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the dining room

he partly does it to get a rise out of sanji, sure, but mostly because he loves the reaction it gets out of you

the bond you share is clearly special, and thats something that everyone can see

however, your relationship is much different when you’re alone

it’s much more domestic

quieter

you know each other like the back of your hands at this point, so sometimes theres no need for words

the silence is soothing

other times, the two of you can talk for hours

he’ll gladly listen to you ramble on about anything and everything thats on your mind if you want to

and he’ll hang onto every word

he’s also a bit more touchy and vocal in private

he’ll massage your sore muscles after a particularly tough sparring session

or rub his thumb across your hip where he holds you against his chest, mumbling compliments into your hair

he’s another man who never really thought about relationships until you came along, so he’s quite inexperienced in a lot of areas

he picks up quickly and adapts, following the signals that your body sends him and adjusting accordingly

sex with him is either extremely intimate and gentle, or he’s being a total pain in the ass and teasing the shit out of you

either way, he’s hyper aware of your every move and action

his main objective is always to please you, because he quite literally would do anything for you

in his eyes you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter, and he wants to be the one holding the plate

neither of you need to hear the words to know that you love each other irrevocably

you can see it in every move that he makes, and he can hear it in the beating of your heart

when the words are shared it’s in the hushed privacy that only you will ever share, or after a particularly life threatening battle

zoro knows that he’s yours forever like he knows he needs oxygen to breathe, but he’s also not a sappy romantic like the cook

he would bring up the idea of marriage in casual conversation to see where your head is at

the two of you have extremely healthy communication, always 100% honest with each other

if you don’t like the idea of marriage he would drop the subject and never bring it up again, content to just be with you

but if you do like the idea of getting married, he would propose right then (very informally)

“why don’t we get married then?”

“are you serious?”

“of course i’m serious. let’s get married.”

the two of you would pick out simple wedding bands on the next island you docked at, stealing away for the day to allow yourselves to bask in your new beginning

the rest of the crew would also totally freak out at dinner when they see the sparkling new jewelry adorning your fingers

sanji:

as we all know, sanji is a lover of women

he’s also a hopeless romantic

from the moment you join the crew, he’s completely head over heels

he thinks you are absolutely the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on in his life

while he dotes on you, you don’t really pay him any mind at all at first

you see the way he treats other women, and you know he’s simply a flirt by nature, so why would it be any different when it’s aimed towards you?

and it first, it’s really not that much different

he just finds you mesmerizing, but it’s nothing more than an infatuation

but as some time goes by and he and the rest of crew get to know you, it turns into something more

you become friends first, quickly forming a strong bond

you keep him company while he cooks, allowing him to teach you different techniques and recipes

you listen to him talk about his dreams, and he returns the favor, judgement free

sanji quickly realizes he’s fallen for you

like for real

the feeling scares him at first, never having felt so many intense emotions about one person before

but the fear is quickly overcome by determination to devote himself to you in every way

he takes care of your every need, defends your honor when necessary, and is always there for you when you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on

you don’t catch onto your feelings until months after sanji pinpointed his, long after you had already plummeted far away from feelings that could be considered platonic

you make the first move, and neither of you hesitate to leap right into it

he set’s up dates for the two of you frequently

compliments you up and down, every word sincere

he gets super flustered and giddy when you compliment his cooking

never forgets an anniversary, valentines day, or your birthday, and always goes all out to make sure it’s extra special for you

sanji isn’t inexperienced per-se, but he also hasn’t been with many women

however, he has a talent for this sort of thing, and his movements are smooth and fluid, never unsure

he kisses you like a man starved, gentle at first, quickly becoming more passionate and hungry because you’re absolutely irresistible

he’s handles you the same way in the bedroom

gentle and passionate

sanji always finds a way to make sex super romantic

he likes to hold your hand, and give you kisses, and tell you how much he loves you

he has a CD burned with a bunch of super sweet love songs, and it doubles as a slow dance playlist and a sex playlist

after you become official, it’s no secret to the crew

sanji is practically shouting it from the rooftops

he’s even more over the top than before, waiting on you hand and foot

loves holding you, and intertwining your fingers when the two of you go looking for ingredients on whatever island you’re docked at

loves hugs and cuddles obviously

always holds doors open for you, pulls out your chair, offers you his coat, and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman

also uses so many pet names for you that you can’t even keep track of them all

still a massive flirt even though you’re already his, and reaffirm that truth every single day

your relationship is very flirty in general

he can dish it out way better than he can take it

he gets flustered sooooo easily when you give him a taste of his own medicine

even though he’s quite eccentric in the way he loves you, he can also be really soft when the moment’s right

the two of you can giggle about stupid hypotheticals one second and be having a deep philosophical conversation the next

sanji tells you he loves you for the first time within like the first 3 weeks of you dating

and he means it 100% too

he absolutely worships you and thinks he must have been a saint in a past life to be able to deserve you reciprocating his feelings

sanji’s known since the very beginning that he was going to marry you some day

as romantic as he is, he cooks you a wonderful meal, just for the two of you

he lights up the place with dozens of candles and rose petals scattered everywhere

and by some miracle he summons the will power to get through dinner with you, before finally beginning his long speech, pouring out all of his love for you like poetry

he kneels on one knee before you, and the ring is barley slipped onto your finger before he has your back pressed against the kitchen counter

oops!

the two of you throw a little ceremony with the crew on the next island you dock at, with vows and a dress and everything

sanji refused to let you settle for anything less than perfect, because you deserved to have a real wedding

his vows are gut wrenchingly gorgeous btw

cries when he sees you walking down the aisle

he makes sure to call you “my wife” as much as humanly possible, and kisses your ring all the time

usopp:

you and usopp became friends pretty much the second you joined the crew

you both have such a similar sense of humor, and you love listening to his ridiculous stories

he lovessss gossiping with you and it’s your favorite pastime

and of course you help him craft his weapons

the two of you are basically inseperable

you do absolutely everything together

you help each other get through your day to day tasks, talking and joking your way through them

you watch him practice his aim and cheer him on

you like laying down together and looking at the shapes the clouds make

you sit next to each other at meals most of the time so that you can gossip with your eyes

but sometimes if you sit across from each other you have staring contests

you don’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere over the years you and usopp fell desperately in love with each other

everyone knows how you feel for each other, hell even you know how usopp feels about you, but he’s completely oblivious to it all

the only reason you haven’t made a move yet is because nami made a bet with you to see how long it takes him to fess up, and neither of you are allowed to “interfere”

he finally confesses to you one night after a long celebration for another strawhat victory

you always make fun of him for being such a lightweight, but tonight it really shows

completely wasted after only two shots, he finally professes his love for you

nami won the bet, but you honestly couldn’t care less

the next day he’s probably super embarrassed, but once you tell him you feel the same way he’s SO relieved

he gets flustered so easily it’s a little humorous

you barely even have to do anything to make him a blushing stuttering mess

most of the time you do it by accident

he has a staring problem because everything you do is so mesmerizing to him

you take your relationship fairly slow

he gets insanely flustered every time you hold his hand

he LOVES cuddling but he has to hide his face against you because he gets so dazed just by being so close to you

the first time you kissed him he almost passed out

he cannot believe you actually want to be with him

once he’s more comfortable with the concept that you really do want him as much as he wants you, he kisses you all the time

your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your knuckles, and most importantly, your lips

his kisses are gentle and cautious at first, growing more confident the longer you’re together, but still always soft

the crew thinks you’re the cutest couple ever, sometimes disgustingly so

usopp is extremely inexperienced, despite the stories he tells that suggest otherwise, so you make sure to let him set the pace

when he’s ready to take the relationship a step further, he’s a bit clumsy at first, but eager to learn

talks a big game, but when it comes down to it he always “lets you” take the lead

loves bragging about you and telling people that you’re his girlfriend

he’s just so proud to be with you

literally thinks you’re the coolest person ever

you guys are still best friends even though you’re also so much more than that

you still gossip, and do your work together, and make ridiculous jokes, and are there for each other no matter what

if marriage is something you want, you would have to hint at it heavy

because he is not going to come up with the idea to propose otherwise

not because he doesn’t want to marry you, but simply because he’s never even thought about marriage like that before

it take him weeks to work up the courage to finally propose, but he would do it all “the right way” because you deserve a real proposal

takes you out on the deck to watch the sunset and then he’s down on one knee with a ring box in hand

gets teary eyed asking you to marry him, and cries happy tears with you when you say yes

you would have a simple ceremony on the ship, just vows, rings, and a kiss, and just like that, you’re husband and wife

chopper would 100% be the ring bearer and nami would be the flower girl

brags about you, and makes sure to include you in all of his stories

no matter how long you guys have been together, his wild imagination never gets old

law:

you were on the brink of death when law found you, taking you onto the polar tang to perform a life saving operation

you could barely remember what even caused the injuries in the first place by the time you woke up, but you had never been more grateful in your entire life

you owed you’re life to him

so you insisted on joining his crew, promising to repay him for saving your life, even though he assured you it wasn’t necessary

you stayed anyways of course

your relationship started out strictly professional

he was the captain, and you were the crewmate

you were friendly with each other of course, but that was the extent of it

over time, you grew closer

you started getting tasked with him with his personal tasks while he worked, allowing the two of you to spend a lot of time in each other’s company

eventually your simple conversations became staying for hours after all the work had been completed just so that you could continue talking

you bonded over similar interests and shared knowledge, realizing you had more in common than you initially thought

after that the years seemed to fly by, blossoming friendship getting stronger until you could practically read each other’s thoughts, and then one day it all became much bigger than either of you had anticipated

you have both somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and neither of you dared to speak a word of it to anyone, even yourselves

you’re too scared of being rejected and humiliated, and law is absolutely terrified of being in love at all

he has absolutely no idea how to handle his feelings, so instead he bottles them up and stores them away in the hopes that they’ll just vanish

they don’t vanish

instead they get bigger and bigger, until it��s all consuming and he can’t think of a single thing that is not you

meanwhile, you’re trying desperately to suppress your own feeling and failing miserably

the two of dance around each other, tension so thick it radiated to everyone else on the crew

you’re interactions become shorter, both of you unable to be in the presence of the other for too long before you felt like you were going to say something stupid

eventually it all reaches a peak, and while working in his office one night he can’t fight his impulses, so before he can overthink it he finally just kisses you

his kiss is heated and filled with a million emotions he doesn’t know how to express with words

your relationship remains the same outside of your shared privacy, so most of the crew doesn’t even know you guys are together for months

if anyone does pick up on it, it’s because both of you are in considerably better moods for weeks after your first kiss

he lets you paint his nails and do his eyeliner

gets really affectionate when he’s tired

he isn’t the best communicator, but you’re patient and he tries his best

law is somewhat experienced, only having been with a few women in the past, but it’s enough for him to know what he’s doing

he has no problem taking the reigns, and easily slips any semblance of control right out of your grasp

sex is either super soft and romantic or he’s really mean, depends on his mood

loves having his hands all over you whenever he can

also gets really cocky and his smile when he’s like that is deadly

doesn’t say it often, but makes sure to show you every day how much he absolutely adores you

he’s so in love with you it drives him a little crazy sometimes, but he doesn’t say that

instead he saves his smiles only for you, kisses every inch of your skin, and holds you impossibly close to him while he whispers sweet praises and confessions in your ear

when law does say “i love you”, he makes sure you know how much he means it

he cherishes your late night conversations, whispered beneath the sheets

while the crew does know of your relationship now, you still don’t really act like a couple at all in front of anyone else aside from very subtle things

you always make law coffee in the morning and he thanks you for it with a kiss to the cheek before getting breakfast

and he whispers things to you all the time, just wanting to share things with you even if he may not want to share them with the rest of the crew

your relationahip changes slightly you become his wife

he never really liked the idea of marriage, but with you, he’s open to anything that would make you happy

if you want to get married, that’s what will happen

the rings would be extremely simple, but engraved with something incredibly sweet to remind you of how much he loves you, even if he isn’t able to tell you so as often as he thinks he should

there wouldn’t be any ceremony, just the rings, but it’s enough for you

after that he’d be a bit more affectionate with you in front of the crew, the occasional peck, and domestic touches

it’s usually subconscious and goes unnoticed unless someone points it out

he can’t help himself, you’re his wife, and he’s surprised by how much he loves the new title on you

ace:

very flirty with you from the very beginning

compliments you all the time

thinks you’re the hottest person in the world and is very vocal about it

the two of you literally just flirt with each other like 24/7 but still say “we’re just friends”

pisses everyone else off

you know ace has a history with women, so you figured it was safe to assume that you simply followed that pattern

so the two of you go on like that for months, so obviously crazy about each other that it quickly becomes annoying to everyone around you

the solution? set you up, obviously

some of your crew mates make it their mission to finally get you two together

setting up romantic settings where the two of you just happen to be alone

pairing you up on chores and tasks

they may or may not lock the two of you together in a closet for like an hour

it only takes a few weeks to finally get you to crack

ace is a cocky bastard about it, but also literally bouncing off the walls because he’s wanted you for forever

he fell first, you fell harder type shit

huge dork

can be pretty childish sometimes, but in an endearing way

but he does know how to read the room and take things seriously when necessary

never fails to make you feel better if you’ve had a rough day

loves seeing you in his clothes !!!!

literally the biggest flirt and tease ever, no matter how long you’ve been together

very touchy and just wants to be close to you

despite the fiery passion woven through his personality, he kisses you like he has all the time in the world

extremely good kisser, and enjoys pulling away to watch you chase his lips and try to catch your breath wayyyyy too much

50% slutty and 50% the most romantic man on the planet

he’ll literally be making the most obscene noises in your ear and then say something so butterfly inducing and poetic that you feel like you could cry

very experienced, and it shows in everything he does

he knows exactly how to read what you need, and just what to do to have you a complete mess by the time he’s done with you

slutty waist 🗣️🗣️

king of the knee thing

loves when you give him hickeys too so he can show off that he’s yours

also pretty open about pda

he doesn’t like make out with you in the middle of a bar or anything, but he definitely does not shy away from showing you love just because there are people around either

your relationship is surprisingly mature, and you have really good communication

definitely would carry you on his back, shoulders, bridal style, or just pick you up and spin you around cause it makes you smile

if he proposes it would be planned, but not necessarily traditional or formal

he’d plan some sort of fun activity for the day, like a picnic or something, and then you turn around and he’s kneeling on the ground in front of you

would pick the PRETTIEST ring

he’d also be smiling like crazy through the entire proposal cause he wants to marry you right this second

as soon as the ring is on your finger he’s already making stupid jokes that have you rolling your eyes

would “elope” (unofficially) on an island and then see how long it takes for everyone to notice

possibly making a bet to see who catches on first

once the rest of the crew knows, he takes everyyyy opportunity to call you his wife or by his last name, and giggles like a kid every single time

asks are open!

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats

Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.

“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.

“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.

The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.

“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.

“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”

Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”

Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”

Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”

Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”

“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.

Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.

“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”

Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.

“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”

“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”

“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”

“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.

“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”

“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”

“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.

Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.

“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.

“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”

“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.

“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.

“Did they listen?”

“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”

“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”

“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”

“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”

“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.

“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”

“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”

“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”

“What would you have me do?”

Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”

“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.

The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.

“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”

“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”

“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”

“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”

Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.

“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”

Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.

Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you.”

“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”

Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.

She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.

Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of…rats.”

Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”

He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.

Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.

The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.

Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”

The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.

“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.

“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”

“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”

“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”

“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.

“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”

The men look to each other, undecided.

“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.

————————————————————————-

Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”

Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”

The boy? “My boy?”

Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”

Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”

“They took her instead.”

“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.

Part 2