#race to the mansion of tomorrow

[dividedsingularity]

I really enjoy RTTMOT, a little animated series by SpiceVipe on YT where Sochiebot is a game show host, so I gave drawing her from memory a spin. Tried to capture one of her many fancy outfits.

[jromanoff]

Pink Jeeps and kittens II R. George

Pairing: Regina George (2024) x Reader, Karen Shetty (2024) x Reader (platonically)

Warning(s): none

Authors note: I haven't written anything in two years, so please bear with me :)

Summary: You damage Regina's pink Jeep when you swerve to avoid a kitten

Word count: 1.5k

It was an accident.

You didn’t mean to drive into some garbage cans on the side of the road with Regina´s pink Jeep, but you couldn´t just hit the cute black kitten that sat in the middle of the road.

After successfully evading the kitten you quickly jumped out of the Jeep and walked over to the kitten, which was in the middle of the road. In fact, you were so focussed on the kitten that you failed to look both ways for traffic when crossing the road. As you put a step on the road a car approached, honking. You quickly jumped back on the pavement in fright.

When you calmed down a little, you crossed the road to the kitten again, this time looking both ways for any traffic. You leaned down and picked up the kitten. “Hi buddy” you spoke to the cute kitten in your arms, petting its head as you walked back to Regina’s pink Jeep. Not only did you scratch her beloved Jeep; moreover, you brought a pet inside it. If Regina discovers any of this she might even buy a new custom car, you thought. Besides that, Regina will probably be angry at you and would never allow you to drive in her Jeep again. You were determined to not let that happen.

You got back behind the steering wheel and put the kitten on the floor on the passenger side of the vehicle. Now you just had to make sure Regina wouldn’t find out about any of this. The first step to ensure this was to temporarily get rid of the kitten in a pet-friendly way, but who would take a kitten in without a second thought? Karen, you thought, and immediately turned the car around to Karen’s house.

It was a 5 minute trip to Karen’s house. When you arrived you quickly jumped out with the kitten in your arms. You rang the bell, hoping it was Karen who would open the door and not one of her parents. Your prayers were answered as Karen opened the door. “Hi-“ Karen started, but gasped as she saw you standing there with a kitten in your arms.

“Is that a kitten? He’s so cute! What’s his name?” Karen said excitedly as her eyes widened at the sight of the small animal in your arms.

“Yeah, hi Karen. He doesn’t have a name yet. I kinda wanted to ask you something…” you answered her questions and immediately got to the point. Karen looked at you, curious as to what you were going to ask her. “Could you perhaps keep this cute kitten at your house today? I know it’s a big ask, but I just saved him from being ran over by a car.” you continued, waiting for Karen to say yes.

“Why?” Karen questioned as her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Well… I’m on my way to Regina’s house…. And I’ll pick him up tomorrow to get him checked out at the vets, but you know how Regina is with animals” you explained to Karen who still wasn’t entirely convinced, but you had one last trick up your sleeve. “You can even name him if you agree, you know” you told Karen and her eyes instantly lit up. “Deal” she said with a big grin as she made grabby hands at you. Rolling your eyes you gave the kitten to Karen, who immediately hugged it to her chest.

“Thank you” you grinned at Karen. Part one of your plan was complete. Now you just needed to make sure Regina wouldn’t find out about the scratch on her Jeep.

Feeling relieved that you’ve successfully placed the kitten in Karen’s care, you hopped back into Regina’s pink Jeep, your mind racing with ideas on how to fix the scratch. As you drive away from Karen’s house, you can’t help but worry about how Regina will react if she finds out about the damage to her beloved custom painted pink vehicle.

As you arrived at Regina’s mansion, you took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves. You carefully inspected the scratch on the Jeep, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it had seemed at first. But alas, it was quite noticeable. Trudging to the front door, you summoned all your courage to ring the doorbell and waited for your girlfriend to open it.

When your girlfriend eventually answered the door, she took in the sight of you standing there with an apologetic expression.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Regina said, her perfectly manicured eyebrow raised as she leaned on the door frame.

“Why would there be anything going on?” you said, nervously looking around and trying to evade your girlfriend’s gaze.

“You’re looking guilty about something. Spill,” Regina demanded, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Okay, fine. I messed up” you admitted, “I was driving your Jeep and I… accidentally scratched it”

Regina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You scratched my Jeep?” she exclaimed, her voice hardening.

“I know, I know” you hurriedly responded, feeling the need to explain yourself quickly before Regina unleashed her wrath on you. “But it wasn’t entirely my fault; there was a kitten in the middle of the road, and I swerved to avoid hitting it. I couldn’t just run over that kitten”

Regina’s expression softened slightly as you explained what happened, but there was still a hint of frustration in her eyes. “So, what are you going to do about it?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She wouldn’t let you get off so easily, she had that Jeep custom made for her after all.

“I’ll take it to get repaired” you promised your girlfriend. “I’ll find the best auto body shop in town to make it look as good as new again.”

Regina nodded, seeming to consider your proposal. “Fine” she finally said, this time without any annoyance present in her tone.

“I’ll pay for it, too,” you offered your girlfriend.

“No need. I’ll pay for it with my dad’s credit card. He lets me use it for whatever I want anyway,” Regina said, then smirked. “But I do expect you to make it up to me somehow…”

“And how do you suppose I do that?” you smirked back at your girlfriend.

“Oh, I have some ideas,” Regina spoke, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she pulled you inside the house and up to her room.

The dimly lit room was filled with the scent of massage oil. Regina sat in front of you on her king size bed with her upper body bared as you massaged her shoulders. At first you assumed Regina bared her upper body for… other reasons, but unfortunately for you she just wanted a massage.  

“This was not what I had in mind” you groaned.

“Too bad. Shouldn’t have scratched my car then” your girlfriend snickered. “Now stop complaining, I’m trying to relax and enjoy my massage”

“Unbelievable…” you muttered under your breath as you continued to massage your girlfriend dutifully.

“Did I just hear something?” your girlfriend teased you.

“No” you quickly denied her accusation.

“I thought so” Regina said smugly. “I also called with Gretchen and Karen before you arrived, you know?”

“Sounds fun” you offered, confused as why your girlfriend would mention this to you in the first place. She called with Gretchen and Karen often to discuss all of the rumours that went around at school, that wasn’t new to you.

“It was, Gretchen told us about a rumour that went around about Janis” your girlfriend snickered, “Karen also told us she got a kitten at home for a day,” she continued her story. You tensed up at this information, your hands stopping their movement at Regina’s shoulders. “Someone brought it to her house and asked her to pet-sit it.”

“How thoughtful of them to think of Karen to pet-sit. She loves-”

“Cut the bullshit. I know it was you” Regina cut you off. “She named him Orange, by the way”

“Are you serious? It’s a black kitten” you frowned in confusion. Karen was something else.

“Yeah, and you allowed Karen to name it. What did you expect?” Regina snorted.

“Fair. Then I guess I’m taking Orange to the vets tomorrow” you shrugged, you were the one that promised Karen she could name the kitten after all.

“And after going to the vets, you’ll get my car detailed on the inside too right?” Regina asked. She hated the mess pets made and doesn’t want it in her Jeep, of all things.

“Absolutely”

“If I see one cat hair in my Jeep when you come back tomorrow, we’re gonna have a problem. Am I clear?” 

“Crystal” you spoke. You knew Regina wasn’t joking about that, she was very serious when it came to her custom pink Jeep.

“Now please continue my massage”

“Alright” you sighed out as you got back to massaging your girlfriend.

She may be bossy and mean sometimes, but you love her all the same.

[f0point5]

would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?

i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point

The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.

I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠

✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨

Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?

Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.

He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.

Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.

And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.

He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.

It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.

Aren’t you, Max?

Isn’t he?

Is he?

So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.

He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.

He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.

You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.

No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.

Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.

If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.

You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-

“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.

Fuck. Fuck.

Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.

“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”

Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.

You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”

“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.

“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.

“Sure,”

Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?

He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.

You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.

“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”

He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.

Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?

“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”

[amirasainz]

Hi loves, if you want more drivers and wags drabbles, don't be shy to request something!

I hope you'll like this one. I will also add a masterlist soon! Please send some requests(can be only driver, drivers and wags or Sainz family), I need some inspiration!

(Wish me luck, I am writing a physics exam tomorrow)

-XoXo

Chaos before her arrival

Chaos. Everywhere at the grid was chaos. People are running left and right. Mercedes mechanics carrying flower bouquets in their garage. McLaren bringing an extra princess like sofa in theirs. Ferrari has three personal chefs at the motorhome.

One might think the royal family is coming to the grand prix. But one wouldn't be so wrong. In fact, Amira Sainz, the paddock princess and littlest sister of Carlos Sainz, was attending her first GP after the winter break.

With staying in Colombia for filming the 3rd season of Narcos, babygirl didn't have a lot of time to attend her big brothers GPs.

On one hand, Carlos was thankful that his baby sister wasn't surrounded by the drivers and their crazy girlfriends.

I mean, can you believe the audacity from Lily and Alex to go shopping with his baby sister because:" Baby, you look so warm, let's get you some shorter clothes to cool you off"(Alex) and "Baby, I saw this really cute handbag for 30k and it reminded me of you. Let's go get it!We can be all matchy-matchy" (Lily)

Or George and Carmen with their "Sweetheart you have to come to London with us. We can have our own tea party the mansion from Downtown Abby and wear our Tommy Hilfiger clothes and...."

Or Pierre and Kika and their "good hearted" invitation to Portugal because, apparently, babygirl is looking too pale. So she has to spend the whole winter break in a villa with only one bedroom (ups) and a private beach with them. Obviously!

But the worst of them all were Charles and Alex. Carlos can't even think about it. The last time his sister came to visit the grid, Charles had the audacity to give her a sparkling pink La Ferrari. And if that wasn't enough, he and Alexandra had to drive her around the city (let's be honest, our girl can't drive. But that's OK, cause she is pretty) with her sitting in Alex lap to "get the full driving experience cherie"

So, as you can see, Carlos wasn't very happy to have his sister attending a GP with these demons around her. His poor angel, nearly getting eaten alive by those monsters (is he dramatic? Yes. Does Carlos care? Absolutely not!)

But Carlos heart, mind and soul hurt the whole time she was in Colombia. What do mean his darling sister isn't by his side or by their family. She's just a baby! What if someone robbed her? Or her car gets stuck? Or worse, she has to go buy things with her OWN money?!

No, Carlos couldn't live with that thought either. So either way, their wasn't really a good solution to his problem.

When he saw all the teams acting crazy, decorating their garages, how his sister likes them and cleaning EVERYTHING, his blood was boiling. His baby, darling sister is staying in HIS team garage, on HIS half. (I'm looking at you, Charles and Alexandra)

However, the last straw for him was when he saw all the wags waiting by the entrance for Amira. They stood at the entrance like hinters waiting for their prey.

Oh Carlos could feel the grey hairs growing

And Amira? During the whole fiasco, babygirl was in the spa getting ready for her exhausting day. Looking pretty the whole time and watching the race IS pretty exhausting. Our poor babygirl🥺

@stinkyjax @khaylin27 @xoscar03

[bisexualiteaa]

Sweet As Pie

Logan Howlett x Fem Reader (FLUFF AND SMUT!!)

CW: established relationship, mention of reader having night terrors/nightmares, reader has trouble sleeping, reader likes baking, mentions of reader being a teacher at the school, talks of baking and sweets to relax, fluffy, non-seggsual intimacy and seggsual intimacy, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, kissing, p0rn w/o plot, fingering, oral (f receiving), hickies, mentions of biting/bitemarks, praise, slight dumbification, Logan is a fiend for reader, unprotected seggs, cream pie, squirting, fluffy ending, potential grammar/spelling errors, lightly proof read

AN: The absolute death grip that this man has on me IS UNREAALLL!! 😫 The ideas I have constantly floating around my little ADHD brain of him never cease but this one…WHEW! This one was fun to write. 👀 I happily take asks/requests for our mans Logan and of course Wade too! We share the love in this house! 💙💛 ❤️🖤 My asks are still open so please send ideas my way for anything you may want to see me write about, friends! Hope y’all enjoy. 🥰

It was a late night as usual. Your racing thoughts and vivid night terrors kept you from being able to stay asleep once again, despite any attempts to calm your mind before bed. So despite it being nearly three in the morning, you did the only thing you knew would effectively calm you after such a restless night. Baking. You were in the kitchen, all the utensils and ingredients laid out before you as you decided to bake brownies to distract yourself from the stressful dream. You had also hoped the waiting would help make you tired enough to hopefully fall back asleep once they were done. You were playing music softly as you started putting all of the ingredients together in a large mixing bowl, not wanting to disturb the rest of the mansion while everyone else was asleep, but you needed something to help keep your mind from wandering in the silence. You put on a playlist that you and Logan had comprised, smiling warmly as you began to relax a little more thanks to the music. You couldn’t help the way you began to hum and quietly sing along to the songs as you would sway to the beat. What you hadn’t realized was that you had an audience standing in the doorway watching you as you baked.

“Can’t sleep?” Asked the familiar, gruff voice of Logan as he soon joined you in the kitchen, his arms wrapping around you from behind, making you smile and hum happily as he did. “Had another night terror, but it’s okay. That’s what the baking is for” you said, making him hum apologetically in response, he knew exactly what it was like to struggle with such a thing. “That’s the fourth one this week, doll. You doin’ okay? Why didn’t you come get me?” He asked, watching you crack eggs into the bowl before setting the shells to the side. “I’ve always had them Lo, nothing I’m not used to. I know you had a busy day, didn’t want to wake you up, I’m sure you’re tired” you answered, but it didn’t stop him from worrying about you. He didn’t care how little sleep he got, he didn’t care if he had to stay up all night just to make sure you were okay, he would do it without hesitation. “Never too tired for you, sweetheart. Never be afraid to come get me” he replied, making you turn to look at him over your shoulder, shaking your head in response. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, bringing that gorgeous smile back to your face that he loved so much. “Tomorrow we’ll talk to Jean, see if there’s anything we can get for you” he said as you went back to your baking, his arms circling around your middle again, making you chuckle at his overprotective nature when it came to you. When his mind was set on something you could hardly ever sway him from it, so you knew there was no fighting him on this. It was sweet really, to finally have someone who cared about your struggles and just wanted to help you. All he ever wanted was to see you happy and well, and he would do anything in his power to be sure those were met. You only wished he would be just as open to you fussing over him. “Yes dad” you quipped sarcastically, making him chuckle with you as he kissed your cheek before resting his chin on the top of your head. “Just worry about you sweetheart, know how much those take a toll” he said, sympathizing with your struggle. “I’m okay Logan, really. I’m still here, aren’t I?” You responded earning a grunt from him in reply that told you that wasn’t the right answer, making you laugh as he watched you mix all your ingredients together in the bowl, dancing and quietly singing to the music that was still playing.

He sniffed the air to try and figure out what it was that you were baking as he helped you clean up some before coming right back to your side. It was sweet for sure, so that told him you were making a dessert of some kind. “Brownies?” He asked, making you smile as you offered him the spatula with some batter on the end from when you had to scrape the mix from out of the bowl and into the pan. He accepted, giving it a taste. He would never admit to having a sweet tooth to anyone else, but your brownies were his absolute biggest weakness. Something about the love that you put into your baking and the joy you had in it, made everything you’d ever baked taste so good. You giggled as he groaned over dramatically at the taste, telling you that he liked it. “Good?” You asked with a grin at him over your shoulder as he licked the spatula spotless. “Fuckin’ delicious” he replied, making you giggle once more as you got all the dishes together. “Not as delicious as you, but pretty damn close” he said, making your jaw drop as you laughed at his dirty joke, making him grin at the cute look of surprise on your face. “Logan!” You whisper yelled as you started taking the dishes over to the sink, making him chuckle at your response. As you were about to wash them, Logan stole them from your hands before you could even place them into the sink. “It’s the least I can do for those brownies” he said, making you place your hands on your hips in defiance as you were about to tell him you could handle it, but his lips meeting yours for another short but sweet kiss silenced you long enough to forget your momentary agitation. Now all you had to do was wait for them to be done.

Thirty-five to forty minutes was the bake time, meaning you had that amount of time to kill while you waited for them to be done. You smiled as another song began to play, making you hum along happily as you stood in the kitchen with Logan. Your arms were slung around his neck as his hands sat at your waist, both of you swaying gently to the song as you looked into each other’s eyes. It wasn’t often that you and Logan shared moments of intimacy like this, where his touch wasn’t wild and untamed, and your gaze wasn’t filled only with lust. He knew well that intimacy was never his strongest suit, but as he’s been with you, he’s come to try his best at it every now and again. You’ve slowly taught him how to open up to it, how to get better at it. “Thank you” you spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between you for a moment as you rested your forehead against his own, closing your eyes as you basked in the moment. “For what?” He asked, knitting his brows in confusion as he looked down at you, unsure of what he did to deserve being thanked. “For being here with me, for caring about me. For just…being you, Lo” you replied sweetly, a soft smile stretching to your lips as you continued to look up at him with those soft eyes and that gorgeous smile he could never get enough of. He never knew what to say in these moments, in the times where you would tell him such sweet things about himself that he could never see. He often wondered why you’d chose him over anyone else, yet at the same time, he knew he would never want to see you with anyone other than him. He was a mutant, a dangerous one at that, and he certainly was not the type of man you take home to introduce to your parents. Not in his eyes at least. Yet you looked at him with all the love in the world, as if he couldn’t possibly do any wrong and when you looked at him like that, it made him finally start to wonder if maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. If you could love and accept him just the way he is, maybe he didn’t need to be so hard on himself. He had you, and you made it quite clear that despite everything, despite all his flaws, anger and bad habits, you were here to stay. Sometimes it was just so unreal to him to think he was lucky enough to have you by his side, willing to stick with him through all his ups and downs. He leaned his head down closer to you, not knowing how else to respond other than by kissing you. He was always better at showing you how he felt physically rather than expressing it through words. The kiss started off soft and sweet, but that didn’t mean it held any less passion in it than his more desperate, heated kisses. You hummed contentedly into it, your fingers lightly carding through his thick and unruly hair, keeping him close to you as you returned the sentiment. You hadn’t seen each other all day, he left early this morning before you were even up, and you stayed behind at the mansion, catching up on your lecture materials and grading assignments for the up coming week. It was nice to have this moment with him, away from the kids, away from the others, and to just enjoy each other’s company without interruption. You both seemed to need it after such a long day. So it wasn’t surprising in the slightest when your once innocent kiss began to take a more heated turn, morphing into something more passionate as you both stood there, enjoying the moment together while no one else was around.

You giggled into his lips as he picked you up, never breaking the kiss once whilst wrapping your legs around his hips to hoist you up onto the counter top, placing you slightly above eye level with him now. It was rather impressive the way he made sure your body was still against him, lips still connected as he lifted you with such ease, effortlessly placing you down on the counter without even needing to open his eyes. Thought he did finally pull away once the burning in his lungs from lack of oxygen began to kick in, figuring you must be feeling the same thing. He pulled away to enjoy the half lidded look you would give him when you were worked up, and the small line of saliva connecting your lips to his as your face flushed hot. “Missed you today” he said lowly in your ear, his voice deep and gravelly with want as he began trailing his kisses down the column of your throat, stopping to tease your most sensitive spots, pulling soft whines and moans from you as he did. “Missed you too” you replied through harsh uneven breaths, your fingers carding through his hair once more as he would suck and bite at your weak spots, leaving marks in his wake. Proof that he was there, proof that you were his and his alone. You moaned quietly as his hips brushed against you, feeling him through the fabric of your night dress. “Logan…” you begged, feeling him trail down your collarbone to your chest, pulling down the straps of your nightgown to allow him easier access to your breasts that lay bare underneath. He wrapped his lips around one of your sensitive buds, laving his tongue over your pert nipple as he sucked it into his mouth. You lulled your head back, eyes fluttering shut with a quiet moan as his hand cupped your other breast, offering both of your soft tits equal love and care. You bit your lip, doing your best to contain the sounds that would normally flow from you so freely, not wanting to wake anyone up or have anyone interrupt this moment between you two. “Missed these sweet girls” he said, laying a trail of kisses from your right tit to your left before taking your other breast in his mouth, allowing him to switch treatments and effectively show both of them his love and appreciation. He groaned into your skin at the sight of you, eyes half shut in bliss, head tilted back with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, and your hips rolling against his for that added bit of friction that you needed oh-so-desperately. He smirked at your needy movements, sucking and nipping at your skin playfully as he marked up your chest, not caring if they would be there for others to see. He wanted everyone to know who it is that pleases you, that makes you happy and makes you feel so damn good.

Satisfied by the marks left on your chest, neck and collarbones, he began to lay kisses down your stomach, his large, calloused hands coming up under your night dress to rest on your soft, plush thighs as he came to his knees before you. “Scoot closer for me, sweetheart. Wanna show her how much I missed her too” he said, helping you move towards him as he started to kiss up your calves to your knees, then along the insides of your thighs before finally lifting up your night dress enough for him to have better access to where you needed him most. “There you go. Look at you, not wearing anything underneath” he teased with that signature cocky grin of his, making you blush as you remembered you didn’t have anything on under your gown. He ran his nose along your inner thigh to tease, enjoying the smell of you and your pheromones that drove him absolutely wild as he left you on edge, toying with you despite knowing exactly how much you needed him in this moment. You knew better than to whine however, because despite your anticipation, you knew that he would give you everything you needed. Most people joked that you had him trained but in reality, he was the one had you trained. “Good things come when you wait” he would always say, and that was a motto you lived by when it came to him. He was never untrue to his word either. You moaned as he finally made his way to the apex between your thighs, laying a soft kiss to your clit before moaning lasciviously into you at the taste of you on his tongue. Your hand came down to card through his hair again, your nails scratching against his scalp in appreciation as his lips and tongue worked at your aching clit. You felt his tongue flutter and draw circles into you, occasionally dipping down to your soaked entrance to squeeze the hot, wet muscle inside and taste even more of you before taking up the rhythm and pace that he knew drove you absolutely crazy. In all the good ways, of course. His hands held you tight as he ate you like a man starved, moaning into you with such debauchery anyone would likely think you were the stars to a depraved pornographic film. You felt his nails dig into your skin with a pleasurable pain, feeling his bruising grip paired with the dig of his nails against you meant you could look forward to the enticing sight of his hand prints on your thighs when you woke up. He didn’t just feast on your cunt to please you, oh no, he did it of his own pleasure as well. You were already struggling to keep quiet, finding it harder and harder to keep your voice to a whisper when he made you feel so damn good, but it proved even more difficult as you felt two of his fingers poke at your waiting entrance. You felt as he collected your essence on his fingers before finally having them work their way inside of you, spreading you open and preparing you for what was to come next. “Logan…” you begged once more through your ragged breaths, and god how it drove him mad hearing his name fall so sweetly from your lips.

As his fingers slipped inside of you, it didn’t take long for him to effectively find the exact spot you needed them most, feeling him curl his dexterous and skillful fingers to rub against your gummy walls. You couldn’t help the way your hips began to roll against his tongue and fingers with need, feeling the burning ache in the pit of your stomach begin to grow tighter and tighter. “That’s it baby, fuck my fingers. Know how she likes ‘em nice and deep” he said before returning his tongue to your dripping cunt, pushing you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. This time however, the movements of his tongue were a little different than what he was doing before. This time, you couldn’t help but notice that it almost felt as if he was spelling something on your clit with his tongue. As if writing out words on your sensitive bud, then it hit you. He was spelling his name on you, laying claim to you by putting his name on your most sacred place that only he was privy to. He was marking his territory.

L

O

G

A

N

H

O

W

L

E

T

T

You giggled as you noticed it, finding it a rather clever move on his part. He always claimed how marking you up with hickies and bite marks was a way of claiming you, marking you as his, but this was a first. “Pussy’s all fuckin’ mine now” he said, making you chuckle. “Was always yours Lo, no one else’s. Always gonna be your girl” you said, making him groan into you at your response. “Say it again” he ordered, pumping his fingers in and out of you at the perfect pace to get you closer to your peak. “Always gonna be your girl, Lo” you repeated, watching the muscles in his bicep flex and the veins pop out slightly beneath his skin as he worked you with his fingers. “So fuckin’ good to me. Gonna cum for me, pretty? Feel you squeezin’ my fingers nice and tight” he asked, making you shake your head yes in reply as he looked up at you, and fuck he could have bust in his pants just at the sight of you. You leaned back on your hands that sat behind you, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath, your gorgeous tits peaking through the thin fabric of your night dress as your gaze fixed upon him with those siren eyes that he swore had him transfixed since the moment he’d met you. You were ethereal. “Cum for me baby, wanna show you how much I missed you” he said, and just as his lips came back to your clit, that was all your body needed to send you toppling over the edge. Your thighs closed against his head, squeezing him tight as he helped you ride out your high. He moaned into you as your legs clamped around his head, feeling his dick twitch in his pants as you did. You felt him squeeze your ass tightly in his hands his nails digging into your skin, only adding to the buzzing sensation flowing through you as you slowly came down from cloud nine.

You released him from your grip as you realized you’d held him there, likely keeping him from being able to breathe. “Shit, sorry…” you apologized in a whisper, your voice sounding ragged as you did your best to calm down. “Nothin’ t’ be sorry for” he said with a confident grin before standing back up, allowing you to see just what you do to him. “Did you cum just from eating me out?” You asked, a slight blush on your cheeks from fluster and the lack of oxygen as your breathing only now started to return to a normal rhythm. “What can I say? Love makin’ you feel good” he replied, making you grin as he kissed you, paying no mind to the taste of you that danced on his tongue still. “She’s the only thing that could ever top those brownies” he added into the kiss, making you giggle. “That good, huh?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him groan into your shared kiss. “See for yourself” he said before running his tongue along your bottom lip, nudging you to open your mouth and allowing the kiss to deepen as your tongues fought in a battle for dominance over the other.

You peered back over to the timer, twenty five minutes left until they were done. Suddenly having to wait so long didn’t seem so grueling after all. “Know how often I think about bending you over this counter?” He asked into your slightly more frenzied kiss as you worked at his belt buckle to undo it. “How often?” You asked, both teasingly and because you were curious of how much he’d fantasized about it. “Every fuckin’ morning” he answered truthfully, making you hum in reply as you bit your lip, holding back a giggle as that thought sent butterflies to your stomach. “Then do it” you challenged him, making a near feral growl leave the depths of his chest as he pulled you down from the ledge and bent you over the counter top. You felt him grind himself against your ass through his jeans to tease before finally you heard the sounds of him taking off his belt and undoing his jeans. “You know how much restraint it takes me when I see you in here cooking or baking? When you gotta bend over to grab something our get on your tip toes to reach somethin’?” He asked before lifting up your night gown up, scrunching it at your hips and exposing your bare ass and cunt to the chilled air from the way your back was arched. “Takes everything in me not to fuck you senseless. To ruin this pretty pussy in the same place where we eat breakfast every morning” he said, making you whine at the thought, and moan as he tapped the tip of his dick against your sensitive clit. “Bet you’d fuckin’ love that, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” He asked, making you bite your lip and shake your head yes as you gripped the counter, preparing yourself for what was to come. “Fuck, Logan, please! Need you so bad” you whined as he moved his head between your folds, collecting your wetness on his tip and shaft before finally pressing at your waiting hole. You moaned at the blissful stretch, feeling your eyes roll back as he inched his way inside of you. Your breathing started to grow sporadic again, feeling him graze all your most sensitive spots before finally sheathing himself all the way inside, his tip gently tapping the apex to your cervix as he waited for you to adjust to his size. “So tight, fuck. Perfect fit, ‘s like she was made for me” he praised sweetly, littering your shoulder and neck with soft, sweet kisses to help you work through the momentary burn of him stretching you. Didn’t matter how long you spent with him, how often you two would be intimate, the sheer size of him would always ruin you every time, but you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Your knuckles began to turn white from the grip you had on the counter top, feeling your eyes roll back in your head as he ravaged you. You were doing the absolute best that you could to remain quiet, but his hot groans and feral growls in your ear as his hips pistoned into you left you with the impression that he didn’t give a damn if he woke anyone up or if someone walked in. He’d wanted this for far too long and at this rate, nothing was going to stop him from having you unless you explicitly told him to. But judging by the way you were moaning his name and begging him for more, paired with the half lidded, lust ridden look on your face told him you weren’t going to be asking him to stop anytime soon. You were nervous at one point about anyone possibly waking up, or coming into the kitchen and finding you two before, but now your mind was so fogged by pleasure, so devoid of anything save for his name leaving your lips like a prayer that you truly couldn’t care enough to worry about that anymore. All you cared about was him and sharing in this moment with him. The rest of the world didn’t exist to either of you right then, all that mattered was having you pinned against the counter top and him drilling into you at an almost unforgiving pace. You could hear the soft sounds of his hips meeting your ass and the faint clap of his balls against your clit, only pushing you closer and closer to your breaking point. His one hand held your hip with a bruising grip, as the other rested beside you, holding him up and steadying him. “Logan! Right there! Fuck, just like that” you moaned as quietly as you could, making him chuckle at how desperate you sounded. “Yeah? Fuck, takin’ me so good. Feel so good around me” he said, and you could barely even babble out a coherent response through your pants and moans, making him chuckle again. “Poor thing. There isn’t a thought in that pretty head of yours right now, is there?” He asked in his usual cocky tone, his hand coming to your throat to pull you up against him, pulling your back against his broad chest, making your eyes flutter closed as he squeezed your throat, choking you a little as he fucked into you mercilessly. You shook your head no in reply, not trusting your voice enough to respond verbally. Not that you had anything coherent to say in response aside from his name. You could practically feel the grin that stretched to his lips at your response, he always loved when he would get you cock drunk. “Feels s’ good!” You babbled out the best you could, making him groan by your ear. “Doin’ so good for me baby. Been needin’ this all day, been needin’ you” he said, making you whine in response and clench around him, earning a growl from him. “Oh ya like when I tell you how much I need you? How desperate I am for you? God you drive me fuckin’ wild” he said, and you felt as his pace started to get sporadic, his movements no longer calculated and fluid telling you he was reaching his peak. “Come on princess, cum for me. Know you can give me one more” he spoke, reaching around and rubbing your clit in tight circles. “Fuck! Logan, ‘m gonna-“ you tried to warn, but by the time the words left your lips, your back had already arched from him and your orgasm had washed over you like a tidal wave of pure ecstasy. Your eyes rolled back, stomach tightening then releasing and had it not been for his hand swiftly covering your mouth, you know you would have been too loud. You felt your legs shake as your release gushed from you, your cunt clenching him tight, milking him and coating his dick in your slick as he growled in your ear with his own release. You sighed blissfully at the feel of him pulsing inside of you, each hot rope coating your walls white with his seed as he released himself deep inside of you.

You both took a moment to try and catch your breath, enjoying the after glow while he was still inside of you. You hummed contentedly as he kissed you sweetly before resting his head against your back. Your sweet moment was cut short however by the sound of the timer on the oven going off, making Logan rustle to turn it off as quick as he could while still managing to be balls deep inside of you. You laughed as you rested your head against the kitchen counter, realizing that the brownies were done just in time. Or perhaps it was the other way around. “Maybe you should bake with me more often” you quipped as he finally pulled out of you, helping you clean up before he redressed and helped you fix your nightgown. He laughed at your idea, watching you bend down to grab the brownies from the oven with an oven mitt before placing them on the stove top, cutting them into pieces and allowing them to cool. “You really want *me* to help you bake?” He asked, knowing his baking skills were inferior compared to that of his cooking skills. “If it ends like *that* every time, absolutely I do” you replied, making you both laugh before grabbing a brownie and feeding him a bite. Something about it was so tender, so domestic that for a moment, he could see himself living the rest of his days like this with you. For once he felt like he no longer needed to run, no longer needed to be alone. He had you, and with you, he had a home. And your delicious brownies only further sweetened the deal.

[peanutant]

play fighting

logan howlett x f!reader

you're working late at night grading essays in the living room of X's mansion. Logan wants to help wake you by "testing" your combat abilities. wc: 1.6k warning: slightly nsfw fluff

Ororo has already warned you to stop drinking coffee at such a late time, but these essays cannot grade themselves. It's not ideal to always have your heart racing from the caffeine mixed with lewd thoughts about Logan.

The busy schedule you had only let you exchange shy smiles with Logan in the hallways. When you try to speak with him, a student suddenly needs help understanding a book.

You don't get to watch TV in the living room while grading papers often; it's always the last to leave in the professor's space. Fortunately, your students enjoy your class; most get As. Yawning, you stretch your arms and throw your head back. Your head rests on the couch. You try to fight off closing your eyelids completely. You know you'll be knocked out when you close your eyelids.

"You're working too hard." a familiar voice emerges from behind. You can tell Logan was adjusting his volume to a level that wasn't enough to disturb the sleeping students but sufficient for you to hear. You tilt your head to the side, unable to move your body. Logan's face is what you need to see to keep going.

"Can't sleep?" you ask. He slowly walks towards you with a beer in hand. Considering Xavier doesn't allow alcohol in this school, Logan keeps surprising you. He replies with a hum as a way of saying "yes."

He sits dangerously close next to you. Your thighs are touching each other, and no one's mentioning it. You could tell you both didn't want to, as you didn't want this moment to end. It's been too long since you've last felt Logan's warmth. No one would mention the tension, but everyone can feel it.

You lay your head on his shoulders, warming up to the crook of his neck. He adjusts to be closer to you and takes a sip from his bottle to ease the pressure.

"Maybe you oughta rest," he whispers to your ear, taking this as an opportunity to sniff your cherry-scented shampoo. "I need all these papers graded by today to introduce a new topic tomorrow."

A brief moment of silence follows between you two, continuing to watch the TV. It was not awkward; it was gratifying. You could feel your energy come back just from Logan's touch.

"Do you wanna…" his voice trails off, making you spring slightly from your seat as you turn your head to face him and stare.

"Logan," you call out his name, shaking your head slowly. "What? No, no. Whatever you got on your mind right now, that's not what I'm tryna…" he sighs and averts his gaze for a moment as if he's trying to come up with something to say to rid of the awkwardness.

"How's your combat? Can you still throw a punch?" he questions, knowing you haven't been in actual battle for a while. You've been more focused on caring for the kids while the whole team is off caring for mutants who haven't yet found care. 

"No way. I'm not fighting you. Especially not here," you reply. You'd love to appear serious right now, but the grin expanding on Logan's face removes all the power you have to fight off your smile muscles. He chuckled, sat his beer on the wooden table, and stood up.

"Come on. It won't be a real fight. This'll just help wake you up." he reaches a hand out to you. That smirk on his face mocks you because you know you'll always say yes to it. Hesitating to give your hand, he pumps his eyebrow twice. He knows you want it.

And so you do. He pulls you up gently, supporting you back on your feet. "Now, throw some at me. Show me how you do it," he positions himself to defend the rest of his body, arms up, feet apart, and ready to catch you.

"I'm not going to actually punch you, Logan." you reiterate, placing your hands on your hips. "I know. Just practice with me, will ya?"

You feel the smile on your face grow more prominent as you position yourself to throw punches. Even if you were to throw actual punches, it'd be nothing to Logan. But for the sake of intense sexual tension, you're willing to play this game.

You stare at each other with eyes that say, "I want to have sex with you right here and now, but we can't because we might wake everyone sleeping."

You throw a pretend punch aimed at his stomach, and he shields it perfectly with his arm. "Let's go, princess," he says sing-songy.

You throw another soft punch aimed at his shoulder. Once again, he caught it in time with his hand. It wasn't intentional for you to actually hit him, but it felt like you punched stone playfully.

"You scared?" he pokes your stomach hastily. Your reaction time wasn't good enough to defend that silly attack. Still, all you could react with was giggles you attempted to keep in to not awaken anyone. It proves to be challenging when you are predicting you'll lose.

"No." you attempt to sound out in between your laughs. You couldn't throw any more pretend punches. It's like your own stomach is fighting you.

"No?" he tilts his head, flashing a smug smile at you. 

The laughter was too much to handle, and you had to bring your arms down to stop yourself from laughing. Your hand grabs onto your stomach, and the other covers your mouth, making yourself completely open to his attacks. One thing leads to another, and there's a 100% chance he'll attack you with something worse.

He lunges at you quickly, your whole body up against his. It felt like hugging a big bear. His chest was rigid, but his warmth made up for it. His hands would constantly switch spots on your torso to tickle you. 

"Logan, I swear–" you pleaded, but you couldn't tell him to stop. A million butterflies swirling up in your stomach combined with his embrace could almost kill you. You wouldn't be surprised if some student were to get up and see what was happening in the living room. You raise your hands to push yourself away from him, but he pulls you closer and turns you around.

"Surely, that's not the best you can do. You should really come and train with me," he mumbles in your ear, tickling you even more. You feel his breath against the back of your neck. What's more interesting is that you feel something poking you from behind.

Your body's strength slowly starts to fade away; it tells you you should completely submit yourself to Logan. You fall back down on the couch, protecting your body with your hands, but he can still reach every spot you cover and don't cover. "Okay, okay, that's enough. We might wake someone up," you warn him as he looks down at you.

He slowly reaches down until your body is between his arms, and his body is between your legs. Though this isn't the first time being this physically close to Logan, having him between your legs is a new sensation.

"You're the one making noise over here. I just wanted to help wake you up, and this is how you repay me," he remarks, his face only a few inches from yours.

You hoped nobody would catch the both of you in this position. At the same time, you did want to get caught. Maybe then, people would say you both only belong to each other. That's what you want. 

He presses his lips against yours. You could tell that's what he wants as well. You can taste the beer in his mouth as if he intentionally left it there for you to experience. He held you in his arms. It was his way of telling you he didn't want to stop, even if you'd both eventually get caught. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck. After months of fighting off the urge to jump at him and grab onto his hair while he pleasures you, your kisses grow more starved and aggressive. He does the same, holding onto your thigh and pushing you gently until your back is lying on the couch and his entire body is towering above yours. 

You cupped his face, signaling you wanted to breathe, even if you didn't want the kiss to end. His eyes stare at your right and left, leaving him impatient. 

You slowly collide your lips against his again. He squeezes your thigh, forcing you to gasp. He grabs the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, softening with yours. The heat between your legs increases; you are waiting for him to taste every part of your body.

His lips trail down from the corner of your jaw to your neck to your collarbones, leaving purple marks all over. He impatiently unbuttons your blouse, revealing a dark blue lacy bra with a ribbon in the middle.

"This color looks good on you." "I wore it just for you, Logan."

As he plants kisses between your tits, you can feel him smile. His hands suddenly grope your boobs, causing you to involuntarily pull the spikes on his hair, and biting your lip to resist moaning.

You could easily tell he was still sexually frustrated, even in the position you both were in. It should have been satisfying enough, but he didn't want to push you. Logan isn't naturally gentle, but the fact that he still tries to makes you fall in love with him even more. A laugh you weren't expecting comes out of your mouth.

"What's wrong? Am I doing it wrong?" he slightly panics. You shook your head no and combed his fluffy hair with your fingers. "You're good at this." you compliment, leaving him speechless momentarily. He releases a sigh of relief and shows you an introverted smile.

"Looks like we tied."

You both quickly turn your head to where you hear someone clear their throat.

"Hey, Scott. You… can't sleep too?" Logan asks with a smile.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Keith VS Kagari

The Beast Tempts the Little Rabbit Episode 1

Ep2 | Ending | Epilogue

If I were to head to Jade on an errand to buy books for the owner—

("Enjoy the seasonal flowers in the flower-viewing event!" ...So that's why it's so lively here.)

Every flower I’d seen was rare, and it filled me with excitement.

(There are so many delicious-looking stalls, and I'm starting to get hungry.)

(I've finished the task the owner asked me to do, so maybe I should just enjoy the event as it is.)

Emma: "Ah...!"

Man: "My bad."

Suddenly, a man running from behind collided with me, causing me to stumble.

Emma: "No, I'm the one who should apologize!"

The man nodded and then hurriedly disappeared into a large mansion along a deserted street.

(I think might have been in the way. I need to be more careful.)

(Huh...?)

I suddenly caught a sweet scent, different from that of flowers, and stopped in my tracks.

Curious, I search for the source of the scent and came across a mobile vendor with a sign that read "DORAYAKI" in large letters.

(Dorayaki is a traditional sweet from Kogyoku, right? I remember Owner made it for me once.)

(It feels strange to see it in Jade.)

My stomach grumbled, expressing its hunger.

(I haven't had it in a while, maybe I should have some.)

Emma: "Excuse me, could I have one dorayaki, please?"

…..

???: "One dorayaki, please."

Staff: "Sorry, buddy. The lady there just bought the last one."

Staff: "Come back tomorrow!"

???: "I see, got it."

???: “...Dorayaki.”

???: "...Hm?"

......

Emma: (Why is this happening...)

???: "..."

(Who is this guy?)

Though I was supposed to be enjoying the event, savoring my first dorayaki in a while and strolling through the town,

I now found myself cornered by a man I didn't recognize.

(Could it be that I just don’t remember him...? Despite him being so eye-catching?)

With his fiery red hair tied up, expressionless emerald eyes, and the sweet, yet fleeting scent that enveloped him, there's no way I could forget him.

The man with the emerald eyes, who had been staring at me intently, slowly brought his well-defined face closer.

Emma: "Hey, there's a suspicious person here!"

???: "Suspicious? That's rude. I was just trying to stop you because you started running."

Emma: "Anyone would run if they realize they're being followed."

I try to escape, but he grabs both of my hands and holds them against the wall, blocking my way out.

(Since it’s come to this, I have no choice but to use what Owner taught me. It’s my first time doing it though…)

Silently apologizing in my mind, I kicked the man with the emerald eyes between the legs as hard as I could—or so thought.

???: "If you’re going to do that, create an opening first."

(Huh? This guy is NOT normal.)

In an instant, the man with the emerald eyes tangled his leg around mine, thwarting my movement.

Words of desperation raced through my mind.

???: " Also, your gaze dropped too low. What good does it do to let your opponent know that your next move is to kick them?"

Emma: "S-sorry?"

(No, wait, why am I being coached right now?)

???: "More importantly, did you forget something?"

Emma: "Huh? Forgotten something...?"

???: "What are you doing?"

(That voice...!)

I turn my face towards the familiar, low, calm voice.

Standing there like a godsend is Prince Keith, the first prince of Jade.

Back when he visited Rhodolite as a royal guest while I was serving as a Belle to select the next king,

I remember being comforted and saved many times by his sincere and boundless kindness, despite his lack of confidence.

(But, Prince Keith has a secret that he can't tell anyone...)

Prince Keith cautiously closes the distance between us.

The usual gentle and calm atmosphere fades away, and is replaced by a glare towards the man with the emerald eyes.

Keith: "I heard your voice and came here. You, move away from her."

(I’m saved...)

Emma & ???:

"Prince Keith..."

"Keith, huh?"

(... Huh?)

Keith: "Huh? Kagari? And Emma?!

(Kagari...? Does that mean he knows Prince Keith?)

Keith: "Why are you two in Jade...? No, more importantly, why are you in such a position...?"

Keith looks back and forth between me and the man with the emerald eyes, and suddenly begins waving his hands in a flustered manner.

His cheeks seem to be slightly flushed and… I have a bad feeling about this.

Keith: "I'm sorry, I had no idea you two were acquainted like that, I... I... I've interfered."

(I knew it, he did misunderstand!)

Keith: "Just ignore me like the annoying weed I am."

Keith: "Or rather, I should disappear as soon as possible, right? Uh, um, best of luck to you both!"

Emma: "Wait, Prince Keith, it's a misunderstanding. Please help me!"

Keith: "Huh?"

...

Emma: "I'm sorry for calling you a suspicious person when you were just trying to return my wallet."

In a café—after the waiter finished taking our orders and left, I immediately bowed deeply as if grabbing onto the table.

Kagari: "It's fine, raise your head."

Keith: "Kagari?"

Kagari: "Sorry for trailing you and cornering you against the wall."

Kagari: "If there's ever a next time, I'll call out to you even if you're eating dorayaki."

Emma: "Ah, so that's why you didn't call out immediately. Thank you for your consideration."

Keith: "Even after all that... Emma, you're truly a generous woman. Thank you."

After showing a relieved expression on his face, Prince Keith clears his throat softly.

Keith: "Now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, let me properly introduce him."

Keith: "This is Kagari Amagase, the second prince of Kogyoku."

Keith: "Jade and Kogyoku have had exchanges since ancient times, so Kagari and I have known each other since childhood."

Emma: "I see!"

(That's why their interaction seemed so relaxed, like they're comfortable with each other.)

Keith: "If I remember correctly, wasn't it when the king had you brought from Kogyoku to train me, Kagari?"

Kagari: "Yeah. You had spirit, but you were surprisingly weak."

(I've seen Keith training with Licht before, so it's hard to imagine him being weak.)

Keith: "Those hellish training sessions were unique, both then and now."

Keith: "Those memories are nostalgic..."

From his wry smile, I could tell the training had been extremely harsh.

Keith: "In return for the training, I taught Kagari about medicinal herbs."

Kagari: "Kogyoku is always bustling with injured people, so knowledge of medicinal herbs comes in handy."

(Kogyoku is still a country constantly at war.)

(And Kagari is also feared as a demon.)

From appearances alone, you wouldn't guess it, but his expressionless emerald eyes reflect nothing, which made him a bit intimidating.

Keith: "Kagari, this is Emma, a friend I met in Rhodolite."

Keith: "I know it might sound presumptuous for a giant guy like me to call someone like you my friend."

Emma: "If anything, I might be the presumptuous one. But I'm glad you consider me a friend, Prince Keith."

Keith: "R-really? That's... I'm glad."

His shy smile made me smile in return.

(Prince Keith always brings comfort no matter the situation.)

Kagari: "Rhodolite... Ah."

Kagari: "So that sweet scent earlier was the smell of roses. They bloom year-round there."

Kagari: "Cherry blossoms also bloom all year round in Kogyoku. We're like flower buddies."

Emma: "Right, I guess so."

Keith: "Oh, that sounds nice. Since Jade is also abundant in nature, maybe we could join the club?"

Kagari: "If you join, it'll be more like being plant buddies than flower buddies."

Keith: "That suddenly took away the cuteness... It's sad, but I'll decline joining."

(Prince Keith seems quite disappointed...)

Waiter: "Sorry for the wait."

(Wow...)

The waiter leaves, and I glance at the table.

In front of me is a mille-feuille, in front of Prince Keith is a thick galette with various flavors to enjoy,

And in front of Kagari is a stack of dorayaki.

(I thought the "Dorayaki Tower" was just a joke of a name, but it's quite literal.)

Emma: "I never imagined there would be such whimsical sweets in Jade."

Keith: "The pastry chef here is from Kogyoku, you see. They put it on the secret menu at Kagari's request."

Emma: "I see... What a thoughtful gesture."

Kagari: "Thank you for the food."

After saying a silent prayer, Kagari begins to slice the dorayaki with a knife and quietly starts eating.

His flawless eating style mesmerized me, as it maintained a perfect balance even though it looks like it might collapse at any moment.

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Huh? Princess? Did you mean me—ugh!"

Keith: "..."

In the blink of an eye, the dorayaki is stuffed into my mouth.

Despite feeling flustered, the gentle sweetness of the red bean paste spreads in my mouth as I chew.

Kagari: "Which do you prefer, the dorayaki you had from the mobile vendor or this one?"

Emma: "I, I like them both. By the way, the dorayaki I had was also with smooth red bean paste."

Kagari: "......I'll buy some tomorrow."

(Maybe they were sold out, and he couldn't have any.)

(Kagari is... unpredictable in both thought and action.)

Keith: "Dorayaki is highly effective for Kagari, so it's good to remember just in case something happens."

Emma: "Understood. I'll make sure to remember it well."

Keith: "Right. Emma told us why she came to Jade earlier, but what about you, Kagari?"

Kagari: "I'm hunting someone down."

Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[librababe99]

Moments Between Time: Part Four

CW: brief mentions of trauma and aftermath of traumatic events Word Count: 1605 Summary: Logan awakens to a world transformed....

A/N: Because I was gone for a few days I decided to post back to back chapters for y'all! 😘😘😘 I really hope you've enjoyed the series thus far and I'm planning on uploading the FINAL part tomorrow at some point, so please stay tuned!

(Epilogue)

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Logan awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he gasped for breath. For a moment, the shadows of the past clung to him, the memories of a world consumed by darkness and death. But as he blinked, the world around him began to take shape—bright, warm, and full of life. He was in a familiar room, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the wooden floorboards. The scent of fresh linen and the distant murmur of voices filled the air, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile silence of the future he had left behind.

His heart still raced as he sat up, the echoes of battle and loss fading but not forgotten. This was the mansion, the X-Mansion, but it was different. He could feel it in the air—a peace, a serenity that hadn’t existed in the timeline he had fought so hard to change. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Logan stood, his body tense with anticipation as he took in his surroundings. The room was simple, familiar in its layout, but the life that pulsed just beyond the walls was something he hadn’t felt in years.

He moved quickly, almost urgently, through the corridors of the mansion. The halls, once filled with the memories of battle and loss, were now alive with the sounds of laughter and conversation. Students hurried past him, their faces bright and unburdened by the horrors of war. Familiar faces appeared—Ororo, Hank, Jean—all smiling, unaware of the darkness that had been averted. It was surreal, this world that he had only dreamed of, and yet it felt achingly real.

But as Logan walked, his mind was focused on one thing: finding you. Each step felt like an eternity, the distance between you and him stretching out like a never-ending chasm. He pushed through the crowds, ignoring the curious glances and greetings, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope. What if you weren’t here? What if the changes he had made hadn’t been enough?

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Logan found himself standing at the entrance to the mansion’s gardens. The sight before him took his breath away. The garden was bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun, the colors of the flowers and trees vibrant and alive. And there, standing amidst the beauty of the garden, was you.

You were gazing out at the sunset, your silhouette framed by the fiery orange and pink hues that painted the sky. The sight of you, so peaceful and serene, made Logan’s breath catch in his throat. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as if time itself had stopped. The world around him faded away, leaving only you, the one person he had fought so hard to protect.

Then, as if sensing his presence, you turned. Your eyes widened in surprise, the sunset casting a soft glow on your face. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved, the weight of all that had been lost and regained hanging in the air between you.

“Logan…” Your voice was barely a whisper, a mix of disbelief and relief. It was all he needed to hear. In an instant, he was across the garden, pulling you into his arms with a force that spoke of desperation, of fear, and of an overwhelming need to hold you close.

The embrace was fierce, almost too tight, as if he was afraid that if he let go, you would vanish, a figment of a cruel dream. His heart pounded against your chest, and you could feel the trembling in his hands as he held you, the remnants of a fear so deep it had rooted itself in his very soul.

“You’re here,” Logan breathed, his voice rough, choked with emotion. “You’re really here.”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him just as tightly, feeling the strength in his body and the vulnerability in his grip. “I’m here,” you murmured against his shoulder, your voice thick with tears you hadn’t realized were falling. “I’m right here, Logan.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The world around you seemed to hold its breath, the garden bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. The only sound was the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze and the steady thud of Logan’s heartbeat beneath your ear.

When he finally pulled back, it was only enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders as if to reassure himself that you were real. His eyes, usually so guarded, were filled with a storm of emotions—relief, joy, and a profound sadness that made your heart ache.

“You remember everything, don’t you?” you asked softly, reaching up to brush your fingers against his cheek. The stubble on his jaw was rough against your skin, a grounding sensation in this moment that felt too good to be true.

Logan nodded, his gaze intense as it locked onto yours. “Every damn thing,” he admitted, his voice low, gravelly. “The other timeline… It’s still in my head. I remember what happened, what you—what we went through.” His voice broke slightly, the words catching in his throat.

Your heart tightened at the pain in his voice, the memories of a world that no longer existed weighing heavy on both of you. You could see the haunted look in his eyes, the shadows of battles fought and lost, the ghosts of a future that had been wiped away.

“But it’s over now,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You did it, Logan. You saved us all. You saved me.”

Logan’s eyes searched yours, as if seeking reassurance, as if needing to believe that this moment, this world, was real. Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease, the fear and doubt that had gripped him loosening their hold. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he let out a shaky breath.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “You kept me sane when everything else was falling apart.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, the depth of his gratitude and love hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. You could feel the weight of the future that had been averted, the sacrifices made, the battles fought and won. But here, in this moment, with Logan’s arms around you and the sun setting in the sky, you felt a peace that you hadn’t known in a long time.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I would have done if—” You broke off, the thought too painful to finish.

Logan’s grip tightened on you, his voice a low rumble as he spoke. “You don’t have to think about that. We’re here, now, together. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you fought back the tears threatening to spill over. You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart—a sound that grounded you, reminded you that this was real, that he was real.

For a long while, you stood there together, the sunset painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. The garden around you was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. The peace of the moment was almost surreal, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had defined your lives for so long.

But even in this peace, you could feel the undercurrent of all that had been lost and regained, the scars that would never fully heal. You knew that Logan carried those scars too, that the weight of what could have been would always linger in the background.

Finally, Logan pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he looked at you with a softness that made your heart ache. “I never thought I’d get to see this,” he admitted, his voice low. "It almost doesn’t feel real.”

You smiled softly, reaching up to brush your fingers through his hair, the familiar gesture comforting in its simplicity. “It’s real, Logan. We’re here, and we have a future—a future we can build together.”

Logan’s eyes softened at your words, the tension in his body finally beginning to melt away. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. “A future together,” he repeated, the words a quiet promise.

As the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, you stood there in the garden, wrapped in each other’s arms. The darkness of the past still lingered, but it no longer held the same power over you. Together, you had faced the worst the world had to offer and emerged stronger for it.

And now, as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you looked toward the future with hope—a hope that had been hard-won, a hope that you and Logan would nurture together.

No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could face anything. And in that moment, with the world at peace and the future full of possibilities, you allowed yourselves to simply be—to cherish the life you had fought so hard to protect, and to find solace in the love that had brought you back together.

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Taglist: @hughverine @itzyahgirllkita1 @nonamevenus @angelofthorr @swthxrry @ayamenimthiriel @charlyrmv @alex21705 @penguinsravioli @mxtokko

[miralunawritez]

Veneer x Fem!Assistant!reader

Background: The reader is going out with friends, she is wearing a kind of revealing outfit and Veneer gets insecure and nervous because the reader looks absolutely irresistible. (Veneer is in love with the reader, which she doesnt know that)

Genre: JEALOUSYYYYY

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You and a few of your friends are going out to a new club that just opened, you guys all decided to match in a nice lowcut black dress with thigh high black heeled boots. You were walking down the hall of Velvet and Veneers Mansion when you walked past Veneer..

"Where are you going?" Veneer says, looking you up in down. "Im going out with some friends, why?" You ask, looking at him with a confused expression. Veneers blood ran cold, looking around for an excuse for her not to go. "You cant leave yet, I need your help with something."

You check your phone to look at the time, "Veneer I dont have a lot of time, what do you need?" you look at him, frustrated. "My nail polish is chipping off, can you redo them please?" he pleads. "Can it wait til aft-" "NO." he yells, cutting u off. He nervously clears his throat as your expression changes from frustration to concern "I mean no."

"Fine." You roll your eyes, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the dressing room. "Sit." You say, clearly frustrated. You pull out some neon green nail polish, kneeling in front of him and taking his hand in yours. Veneer watches you intently as you repaint his nails, a blush creeping onto his face from your touch and how pretty you look when your focused.

You finish painting his nails, pulling his hand up closer to ur lips to blow on the fresh paint. You glance up at him, realizing hes looking right at u. Your heart races as your face starts to burn up from being flustered. "There, all done." You say as you stand back up. "Thank you." He says while looking at his freshly painted nails.

You check your phone again, "I really have to go now, I was supposed to be at the club 5 minutes ago" you say, seeing that your friends are blowing up your phone asking where you are. "Wait! I still need your help!" Veneer says frantically while panicking. "What now veneer? I seriously have to go!" "I dont know what to wear tomorrow." Veneer says, you look at him completely shocked and dumbfounded, "You seriously need help picking out your outfit for TOMORROW?" you yell, clearly stressed.

Veneer looks you in the eyes, "Yes." "Veneer, your like 18, you can figure it out yourself!" You check your phone again, 5 more minutes has passed. You groan, obviously annoyed as you walked to his room to pick something out for him to wear. You walk into his huge closet, you pick out a shirt and show it to him, "Ehhh, no." He says, disapproving. You roll your eyes and put it up, picking up another shirt, aggressively motioning to it. "That shirt is ugly, I dont even know why i have it." He looks at it with a disgusted look. You groan loudly, putting it up.

30 minutes and 30 shirts pass, you show him another shirt and he finally approves of it. You check the time and realize you were supposed to be at the club 40 minutes ago. Your jaw drops in anger and shock, you look up at Veneer, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down before you rip this boys hair out. "Oh nooo, looks like you cant go now.." He says sarcastically, hiding his excitement and happiness. "I guess not." You say in disappointment.

Veneer notices your disappointment, he starts to feel bad for what he did. "How about this? Since I made you miss going to the club tonight, tomorrow I take you shopping, any store, no budget, as much stuff as you want." "You dont have to do that Veneer." You say, smiling at his offer. "I insist, a day all about my dear assistant." He says, putting his hands on you shoulders. "Thank you.", you turn around and hug him. Veneers face turns a bright pink as his heart skips a beat, hugging you back. He smiles to himself, his plan on keeping you from going out worked.

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Sorry if its short!

[obxlovers-posts]

Pretty in pink

Warnings- smut 18+

Summary- cute lil fluff rafe being sweet. Sarah’s friend stays at her house with rafe

Requests are open! :)

Word count- 1,272

-

Sarah sets down a small box with different nail polishes next to me on the couch. I reach in pulling a couple out looking through them

"Take them all, I haven't used them and don't wanna waste"she says

Rafe sits beside me holding his hand out I look at the nail polish in my hand and hand them to him. I watch him shake his head and put back the dark blue.

"I'm gotta go, John B needs me. You want me to run you home?"sarah asked rafe looks at me

"Uh, no I can wait here"i say giving her a smile

"I likely wont be back"she says slipping her shoe on

"I'll make sure she gets home"rafe says still looking through the colors. Sarah doesn't fuss, she also doesn't like her brother, but she knows he won't let anything happen to you.

Being Sarah's best friend means you've spent a lot of time in the mansion and a lot of time spent around rafe. Sometimes it felt like you knew him better than Sarah who would blow him off or argue with him. With you it's like he is a different person and Sarah can tell which is why she trusts him with you. On the other hand she knows you and how you light up around him or how you get shy all the little things just as you know of him.

"We can do something tomorrow"Sarah says hearing the honk from the Twinkie

"It's fine Sar"I say before she heads out the door

Rafe grabs my leg from beside me tugging it so I'm facing him with my feet in his lap and he holds up a pale pink nail polish to my foot. I smile to him as he smirked to himself placing the box aside. Not what I would've chosen but he likes it

He takes my foot in his hand rubbing circles on the bottom. He starts painting my toes and surprisingly it wasn't a disaster. He wipes off the extra leaving a pale pink stain on his finger. I watch his hands as he switches feet letting the other one dry. I look at his gold ring it's usually on his index finger is now on his middle finger I scrunch my brows.

"You okay?"he asked looking at me as my eyes meet his

"Your ring it’s different"I say nodding my head

"Sometimes I play with it and move it around"he says finishing my toenails he brings my foot closer to him blowing on it making me giggle

"Don't mess it up" he groans as I wiggle

"How much time do you spend looking at my hands?"he smirked

"What?"i ask

"You noticed my ring. "he says looking at me in between blowing so the nail polish dries. My mouth is dry and my heart is racing. I adore the look in his eyes.

“I notice a lot about you”I say he looks at me before tapping my toenail

“All dry”he says pulling it closer to him placing a kiss on my ankle and kisses on the inside of my calf

"Rafe"I say as he leans up his hand following his lips on the other side of my leg pushing it closer to his face kissing my knee

"Hmm"he hums against my skin as his face moves up to my thigh my head falls back trying to hide the smile. He’s usually touchy but this is different and it’s bringing butterflies to my stomach

"I wanna see you pretty girl"he says I lean my head back up biting the inside of my lip he smiled his hands trail down to the hem of my summer dress pushing it back. I try to back myself up but his hands slip on my ass pulling me back to him

"Rafe not on the couch someone could see"I whisper

"Let them watch"he says peeking up to me as his hands work the lace on my underwear tugging them towards himself I lift my foot and he tosses them on the floor

His face returns to the inside of my thigh my head falls back once again as he gets closer I feel him stop and his hand wraps around my throat. The cold ring making me go crazy and I swallow as he leans above me rubbing my clit with his other hand

"What did I say" he says pushing his lips into mine as his finger slips into me making me moan in his mouth he quickens his pace adding another finger

"My girls so wet"he says and I can see the lust dripping in his bright blue eyes he moves back down my body his mouth hovering over my exposed pussy. He slides his finger back in until I’m met with the cold hard metal of his ring I groan my hand finding his and pushing it deeper

“You like my ring inside you?”he asked tilting his head

“I like you inside me”I say watching his eyes Subconsciously moving myself closer he removes his finger replacing it with his tongue sending a rush through me. His hands hold my hips causing me to clench harder around his head. My hands quickly find his hair. He groans wrapping his hands under my ass cheeks pulling me up with him I wrap my legs around him

He packs me upstairs to his room laying me on the bed quickly taking his shorts and boxers off.

He pushed me back on his bed towering over me he rubs his dick on my stomach trailing down before slowly pushing himself in I gasp taking him in I wrap my hands in his hair pulling his face to me kissing him. Moans escaping into his mouth and he pulls away shaking his head

"Rafe"I say panting trying not to moan his hand squeezes my boob

"Let it out pretty girl"he whispered and I didn't hold it back as he thrusts harder into me. He stops lifting my legs and placing them on his shoulders fixing himself and slamming back into me his hand returns to my throat I give him a smile

“That’s right my girl”he says throwing his head back with a smile he can’t hide

“R-Rafe”I moan trying to tell him I’m about to cum

“I know baby I feel it”he says and I melt around him his lips meet my neck sucking on it sweetly as his pace quickens. He rolls me over and lines himself up sinking back into me he pulls my hair towards him before he slows him pace his dick throbbing inside me as he finishes

“Take it all my girl”he says pushing himself all the way in I moan feeling him slide out and fall beside me onto his back. catching his breath and pulling me into him

"I'm glad Sarah left you to me"he says kissing the top of my head he holds my hand up sliding the ring off his finger and putting it on mine though it’s too big

“I promise you my girl you’re not just one of my toys”he says tilting my chin up placing a kiss on my nose giving me a smile

“I sure hope not Rafe Cameron”I say falling back into his ocean eyes twirling the ring on my finger

“You remind me of the color pink”he says his blue eyes shine and a smile spreads across my face he places his hand on my cheek rubbing his thumb on it pulling me closer for a kiss

[basichextechml]

Wet Braids and Ribbon Ties

Wednesday Addams/Fem!Reader

Rating: Teen // 2.4K Words // No pronouns used for reader, but implied Fem, Soft as hell, Teen for graphic jokes and it being somewhat suggestive at the end, Wednesday being someone emotionally vulnerable, Makeout sesh 

A storm brings you closer to Wednesday than you’d ever thought it could.

---

     Pattern recognition was a necessary trait of human evolution, and essential for the continued survival of any species. Those that came before you had used it to scavenge food, tame animals, create languages, and form communities. Sure, you were still doing these things, but it was less urgent, society collectively pushing past those base instincts to refine such senses. Vaguely, you wondered if your ancestors would be a bit disappointed that your brain’s neocortex was being used to psych yourself out over the sight of braids. While they were trying to figure out what berries and fruits wouldn’t kill them, you were worrying about Wednesday Addams and her twin braids that seemed to haunt you. Though, you guess it wasn’t their fault that you had pavlov'd yourself into associating the hairstyle with pretty brown eyes and a penchant to make your heart race.

     It was all made much worse by the storm that had been rapidly approaching Nevermore. Again, ancestors fighting for their lives in the elements- while you were fighting for your life at the sight of Wednesday with water droplets clinging to her lashes.

     Wednesday’s investigation into the murders around the town had all but halted, all her leads running dry. The Sheriff wasn’t responding to her evidence, and Xavier hadn’t made any moves- but she still felt a pull in her chest, like something was missing. She had requested (demanded) that you follow her to the Gates mansion to poke around once more. Enid had vehemently rejected both of your requests to follow.

     “What time are we going then?” You ask, leaning against her bed frame as you watch her fill up a bag with flashlights, rope, and a first aid kit.

     She zips the bag shut in finality, “Tomorrow night, after curfew. We’ll have to walk, so wear a jacket.” It seems she never got over the time you wore a tank top in 45-degree weather and you kept putting your freezing hands on the back of her neck.

     “Isn’t there a storm coming, though?” She raises an eyebrow as if asking ‘so?’, “We don’t know how structurally sound that place is, what if it floods?”

     Wednesday lets out a quiet huff, lips pursed in a thin line, contemplating your words. Finally, she concedes. “You’re right, be ready to leave at 4. I’ll meet you in front of your dorm.”

     Okay, yeah that seemed more reasonable-

     “4? Like four in the morning?” You questioned incredulously, arms crossed in front of your chest.

     There was a ghost of a smile at your confusion, an inherent pride to it. “I thought you wanted to beat the rain?”

     While Wednesday had pavlov'd herself into being associated with the debilitating symptoms of falling in love, you also came to associate the girl and her long, dark braids with the troubling feeling of everything going wrong at once.

---

     Stupid Pavlov. Stupid neocortex. Stupid pattern-seeking brain.

     Due to years of evolution, you were now trudging through cold sheets of rain in a forest with the girl you liked looking for clues on a murder investigation at 4:48 in the morning. Your boots making contact with the mud made terrible squelching noises as you both slowly made your way back to Nevermore, the only sound between you being that of twigs snapping beneath your weight.

     This endeavor had resulted in nothing, it was a long shot if Wednesday was being honest. She had already found the evidence once in the basement, and it had been moved when she came back. Why would the perpetrator come back to the home? She had no clue- but she had nothing else to go on, and was feeling a bit -to her disgrace- defeated. While she was in the middle of looking around the basement for the umpteenth time, the storm predicted on the forecast came early, The house, just as you had predicted, began flooding, cutting her even deeper.

     Now, with no fruits born of her labor, and your cold hand in hers guiding her through the dawn of a new day; you were slowly and surely going home.

     As the lights of Nevermore Academy shone through the thicket of the forest, you both continued on your leisurely pace, despite the pouring rain. You both were already wet, running would do you no good now. Despite the shiver that ran down your spine at the nipping cold, you were fine with staying outside a little longer.

     “I’m sorry,” Wednesday said suddenly. The apology nearly made you stop in your tracks, looking at her in disbelief. Never had Wednesday apologized to you- for anything.

     The look on your face, as if you weren’t trusting the words she was saying, snapped at the strings of Wednesday’s heart. Enid’s words come back to haunt her, tearing into her about her inconsiderate nature. She’s sure you’d been made to feel that way as well. It was confusing. She should feel overjoyed at the misery of others. But seeing you by her side, being soaked head to toe by the rain, chilled to the bone? She was just as miserable as you.

     “I’m sorry.” She reiterates, knowing fully that you heard her the first time.

     “You don’t have to apologize-”

     “I do.” The words are biting, and that does stop you in your tracks, inadvertently stopping her as well. Wiping the rain from your eyes, you look down at your interconnected hands. This was the longest you had ever touched her. The longest she’d ever let you touch her. “I have been… Selfish, as of late. And for that, I apologize. I am single-minded, I put you in danger, and I…”

     You watch with a hitched breath as she avoids eye contact. This is difficult for her. Her shoulders are rigid, her mouth tense, and her hands twitching. The rain pelts down on you both, and you suddenly feel like you’re the main characters in a film.

     “I believe I’ve hurt you, so I’m sorry.”

     She looks terribly beautiful, hair sticking to her face in waves, her lips, and her nose the brightest red you’ve seen on her, doe eyes big with her eyeliner running from the rain. You simply squeeze her hand thrice. As unhealthy as it may sound, you had already forgiven her for anything she had done long ago- and you’d continue to do so, as long as she kept dragging you around with her hand in yours.

     “Thank you, Wednesday. I accept your apology.” And, again, you mean it. Pulling her a bit closer, just so your shoulders knock together, you begin your journey once again. “Now come on, I think we should both get dry before we die horrible deaths from contracting pneumonia.”

     “I believe we have conflicting ideas on what constitutes a “horrible death”.”

     “I’m sure we do, Wednesday.”

     You both gingerly sneak through the door and through the foyer, tracking mud on the carpet up the stairs. Wednesday makes you stop once you get to the top, and take off your shoes so you don’t track the mud back to the dorms- so Principle Weems doesn’t suspect you two. Though, you think it’s a lost cause because you’re both the number one suspects for anything slightly off that happens.

     Your dorm is closer, and quietly, in the early morning embers, you usher Wednesday into your room, locking the dorm behind you.

     The single dorm you resided in was smaller than the rest, the space easily filled up by your belongings. But you wouldn’t be caught dead asking to switch, you liked having your privacy- a rarity at a boarding school.

     Wednesday is already making herself at home, leaving her shoes at the door and shrugging off her coat and scarf. “You can shower first.”

     “Are you sure?” You ask, doing the same. Wordlessly, she takes your own jacket from your hands, spreading it on the floor next to hers. The space heater you have for nights like these is already cranked on high.

     “Yes,” Wednesday confirms, sitting down in front of the machine, “I just need some time to think.”

     “Alright, I’ll be quick.”

     You’re true to your word, grabbing your pajamas and heading to the bathroom. The shower feels nice on your frigid skin, and you make sure everything is still organized for when it’s Wednesday’s turn. An extra towel is left on the sink once you’re done. She’s sitting in the exact spot you’d left her, the lines troubling her forehead just as prominent. You search through the black clothes in your closet, pulling out a pair of sweats and a matching sweater with some socks, and tapping her shoulder. “Your turn,” You mumble, presenting your offering.

     Her fingers linger on yours, the shadows and movements emphasized by the low lights in your room. The clothes are held away from her still-wet body, and she gets up, closing the bathroom door behind her. As you hear the shower start again, you put your towel on the floor, mopping up any water that had dripped off of her.

     This evening hadn’t gone as you thought it would’ve. It was like that morality test, if an oncoming train had its brakes cut, and you had to choose between crushing six people or one, what would you choose? You, of course, were all seven people- you would die either way. That made Wednesday the train, didn’t it?

     Before you knew it, the door to your bathroom opened again, Wednesday stepped out in your clothes, using the towel you’d given her to scrunch the water out of the ends of her hair.

     Your mouth felt dry like you were at the dentist getting a tooth pulled, and they had to suction all the saliva from it.

     “Do you have a brush?” She asked. Getting up from your spot on the floor, you flitted around your desk, grabbing the one you’d left next to your vanity mirror. Holding it for a moment, you contemplated your next words.

     “Could I do it?”

     Time stood still in your dorm, fingers nervously pushing over the prongs on your brush as you awaited a response.

     Wednesday felt warm. Swallowing her tongue and sitting down on your bed, cross-legged. “You may.”

     Her hair was long and thick, pitch black as the night sky, and softer than anything you’d felt before. She smells faintly of your shampoo, and you find yourself light-headed as you gingerly rake your fingers through the ends of her hair, ridding it of any tangles. Starting at the ends, you slowly brush through the damp hair, working your way up. It’s longer than you had initially thought, undone of its iconic braided style.

     Wednesday felt nearly naked with her hair unstyled and wet in your hands. The brush working against her scalp treated her so tenderly. As if you would rather walk through the fires of hell than yank against a strand of her head. She licked her lips, eyes suddenly watery. She had forgotten what tenderness had felt like these past few years. She believed she didn’t need it. Maybe she was wrong.

     Using your nail to part her hair in two, you push both sections over her shoulders, and the bed creaks as you get off to sit in front of her.

     The girl who avoided your gaze when apologizing earlier is gone, and instead wholly intent on looking at you as you finger comb through the section of hair on her left shoulder. Deftly, you split it into another three, even sections, slowly beginning to put together her signature braids. Wednesday watches as your lashes flutter while you concentrate, enamored with how you lick your lips and twitch your nose. You’re engrossed in her. Sitting here in your clothes, letting you do her hair, she must be equally captivated.

     You get to the end of the first braid before you notice an issue. “I don’t have a tie,” You announce, pouting.

     “I left them in the bathroom,” Wednesday says, already getting up. But you stop her.

     “Wait-” And you're leaning over to your desk, rummaging through the top drawer. Pulling out two strands of black ribbon, you’re back in your spot in front of her. She’d seen them in your hair before. Setting one down in your lap, nimble fingers keep her braid in place while the other positions the ribbon. Soon enough, she had a perfect little bow tying the braid together. You start immediately on the next one.

     Wednesday Addams has bows in her hair.

     Once you’re confident they’re even, you lean back, eyes immediately shooting up to her neglected bangs. Taking the forgotten brush, you lean in. Much closer than necessary for the task, but instead of pushing you away, she tries to see if she can feel your breath. Rounding off her bangs, you discard the brush for a final time, hands coming up to finger curl the longer ends, framing the hollow of her cheeks perfectly. Your hands settle on the curves of her jaw.

     Her pupils are blown wide, eyes narrowed dangerously, and you feel like a meek hare in front of a desert viper. You’re sure her venom would sting, and you’d be happy to let it flow through you.

     She lets her fangs sink into you, pulling you in until her lips connect with yours. Unlike her demeanor, she was soft against you, hands coming up to the nape of your neck to keep your lips flush against hers. The warmth of your sweater and your hands and your lips are too much and not enough, and when you finally pull away to catch your breath- cheeks hot and eyes lidded- she finds you irrevocably adorable. She understands why Anaconda kill and eat their mate. If you don’t stop looking at her like that, you’ll undoubtedly meet the same demise. Wednesday finds herself pushing you down, pillows cushioning your fall as you lazily bring her back into your embrace.

     As the clocks crawl forward, you both stay the same, warm and flush against one another. And as the clock strikes 8:30am, you’re both broken from your reverie.

     “Good Morning everyone,” Principle Weems sounds from the intercom, “Due to the storm, faculty has made the decision to cancel classes and extracurricular activities for the remainder of the week. If the storm lets up, this schedule is subject to change. Stay dry everybody!”

     A bit late for that.

     “We’ll be staying here.” Wednesday decides for you both, already pulling you back in. You kiss against her jaw in agreement, fingers pulling apart the bows in her hair.

---

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging, I'd really appreciate it! As always, my asks are always open to talk ^-^

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1CbNa8jneefleLKCK98HHC?si=1c7e5b671ae14e42

[blamemma]

very self-centred, pathetic post, under the cut. just something i need to write i think.

i kinda knew that this day would hurt. and it does. its finality. its 'daniel. daniel please where are you. come on daniel wear a silly outfit and turn up at the paddock please. model ur new enchante for us please". tomorrow will hurt even more. no RIC on the timing boards, or on the onboard camera selection. but for me, i feel like i've lost a little bit of purpose. this year, i've definitely taken a step back from posting. my job has taken me away from a lot of race weekends. but when i am here, i love providing. i love refreshing the photo websites and seeing my guy, and sharing that with you all. just before i sleep, reading through all the fun (and deranged) tags y'all would leave on my posts. it was such joy. i truly never did it for the accolades or anything like that. i did it for the community. and i love this community so deeply. and i feel like today and evermore, what do i provide? i don't write, i don't make gifs, i don't make beautiful soul-crushing edits. my outpouring and expression of love to daniel was in content update. and that feels stupid to say (type) but god, just the unexplainable joy of a new daniel video that was so funny or pretty or anything else, and knowing that so many of u were also going to enjoy that was delightful. and this would hurt any weekend, but especially on cota weekend. i've sat and gone through my archive today, and sobbed a lot at so many videos and photos of him from over the years at cota. however shit the weekend may have been for him, he always glowed so differently at this race. his confidence was unmatched. my fingers twitch to refresh getty and see a new photo of him today and realise this was a bad nightmare. he's still a f1 driver. but nope. and instead its just a weird gaping hole. i loved race weekends. i loved the structure of them. i loved knowing for 3-4days we'd all be here, delighting together in daniel. that....structure. those set in stone dates are gone. and i just feel so weird about it today. not providing. not having something to provide. in the first week of this all, i said to friends, i really struggled seeing us all so sad, and not being able to do anything at all to bring happiness or light to the situation. and weeks on. that still remains. its funny, that the thing that has brought us so much sadness, could be so easily fixed by the one thing that won't happen. him being in that car tomorrow. him showing up today for media day. one photo. one instagram story. of him walking into the paddock today as a driver. for media day. would delight us all. but it just...won't happen. maybe, probably, never again (don't worry, i'm still a lil delulu). idk sorry, there was a point to this, but i'm finding it hard to properly articulate it. i think it's overarchingly, my fear that the community i have built here, on blamemma, might slowly dissipate. and that's okay. but it's also such a shame. we should have had so much more. he should have had so so so much more. maybe we'll get it again (don't worry, i'm still a lil delulu) but this emptiness feels so strange today.

but this is also to say u don't need to have a "purpose" in fandom. those who simply reblog, are the bricks that built this mansion. i just mean all of this in terms of how i have interacted within fandom for a while now.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I thought you loved me | {SaneGiyuu/SaneKana}

pt.2 | pt.3

Theme: Slight Fluff+Slight Angst, idk anymore

Note: I based this on some tiktoks I saw :>

×××

His arm hooked around Giyuu's shoulders, his scarred face close to the Water Hashira's as he leaned towards him, resting his head on the other's shoulder.

"...Shinazugawa?" Giyuu mumbled, after a moment of silence.

"Mm?" Sanemi glanced at him, moving his position to look at Giyuu.

"I... Will you meet me here again? Tomorrow?" Giyuu asked nervously. His gaze flickered to Sanemi's hand which rested on his own. 

"Mm, alright," Sanemi (I wrote Sanmi ;-;) said, nodding. 

In front of them, the water fountain seemed to flow a bit higher, matching Giyuu's emotions as he found himself nuzzling closer to the Wind Hashira.

They sat like this for a long moment, the only sound being the water and their breathing in silence.

Eventually, Sanemi moved away. "I've got to go," he said, much to Giyuu's disappointment.

The two stood.

"See you tomorrow?" Giyuu asked, a bit hesitantly.

Sanemi kissed him in response, sending butterflies scattering in Giyuu's stomach.

"Tomorrow," Sanemi agreed, retreating. 

Giyuu stared after him as he left, a small smile forming on his mouth.

×××

"I love you, Sanemi." 

Sanemi smiled. "You always had a way with words, Kanae."

"It's not a way of words," she said, laughing. "I'm simply telling you that I love you."

"Hm, then perhaps your tone. Gives me butterflies," Sanemi teased, resting his forehead on hers.

"If I have a way with words, yours is probably through physical affection," Kanae decided, a hand tracing the scars on Sanemi's chest. (headcanon's 🤩)

"Is it, now?" he asked, kissing her gently.

She smiled at him. "Yes."

They were there at the park. The one with the bench sitting across from a water fountain.

Behind them, somewhere in the bushes, Giyuu sat with his head curled to his chest, his arms wrapped around himself as he wished he could get up and leave. But he couldn't, they would hear him. Know he had been here the whole time.

His body shook, not from the cold but from the shaky breaths he was trying not to take as he felt himself almost fall into a pit of misery, his body sagging under the weight of an invisible force.

It felt like hours but was probably only minutes before Kanae and Sanemi left, most likely hand in hand. 

Giyuu sat there, without moving, for a full minute after they left, his mind racing.

And then he stood, quickly brushing off the leaves and dirt off of him, before turning and walking promptly out of the park, in the opposite direction the other two had.

He didn't know where he was going but eventually found himself wandering to the Butterfly mansion.

His chest seemed to tighten at the thought of Kanae being there—though he knew she wouldn't know about this. She would never let it happen. Right?

Before he could leave, the door opened and Kanae's younger sister—Shinobu, who helped the injured often when she wasn't on missions—stepped out.

"Tomioka?" she said curiously, quirking a questioning eyebrow in his direction.

"Uhm. Kocho. Hi," he said awkwardly, shifting. 

"Hello, do you need something?" she asked, walking towards him.

"No, uhm, I was just walking," he said.

"Oh, well Aoi just made lunch and we have extra, want any?" she offered, giving him a gentle smile.

"No, it's okay, I-" 

Before he could comprehend what was happening, Shinobu was pushing him inside, closing the door behind him.

Giyuu found himself at a table, eating with Shinobu, Aoi, and three little girls. He blinked, staring at the chopsticks that had been forced into his hand. 

What... was he doing here.

"Hm, you look troubled," Shinobu noted, starting to eat.

The other girls gave a murmur of agreement, glancing up at him.

"Oh."

"You're a Hashira so you probably have a lot to be troubled about. Oh! Speaking of Hashira, have you seen Kanae recently? I was looking for her but she didn't come home for lunch; thus, the extra," she said, motioning to his bowl.

"Right." Giyuu messed with the idea of pretending he hadn't seen her but decided that was being petty and sighed. "Yes. She was... with Shinazugawa. At this one park? With... a water fountain. I, uhm, passed by it on my way here and saw them."

"Oh, alright," Shinobu said. "Why don't you eat?"

"Right," Giyuu repeated, quickly starting to eat, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

"Are Kanae and Shinazugawa dating?" Aoi asked, after a beat of silence.

Giyuu waited, listening carefully. 

"I would assume so. I don't know why Nee-san picked such a moron to date, though. I don't like Shinazugawa," Shinobu said, sighing.

One of the little girls laughed.

"Why not?" Giyuu asked, interested. 

"Because he's arrogant. I can't figure him out. Sometimes, he seems like the type to be loyal, sometimes he seems like he's gay," Shinobu said, rolling her eyes. 

Giyuu flinched. "Oh?" 

"Mhm." She twirled her hair around the top end of her chopstick for a moment, then looked up. "You flinched when I said that. Do you know anything?" 

Giyuu averted his eyes. Fuck, he was bad at acting. "Uhm. No. Thanks for the food," he said, lifting the bowl to his lips and drinking the rest of the soup quickly. "I'll be off now." 

"Answer my question!!" Shinobu complained. 

"He probably has training or something, he's also a Hashira, remember?" Aoi said.

Giyuu gave them a nod of his head quickly, then left, his movements stiff. 

Once he was out, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Then instantly wished he hadn't relaxed when he saw Sanemi and Kanae walking up to the house, Sanemi's arm linked around Kanae's waist comfortably.

Giyuu froze and Sanemi's eyes met his. For half a second, they stared at each other, Sanemi's expression hardening for a beat before Kanae smiled and Giyuu broke their eye contact.

"Hello, Tomioka! I didn't think you'd be here?" she said. 

"Yes, uhm, Ko... Shinobu told me there was extra food and forced—I mean offered—for me to have some," Giyuu explained, his gaze set on the ground. He could feel the other two Hashira's eyes on him as he talked and he inched cautiously to the path, trying to escape. 

"Oh! You've eaten already, then?" Kanae asked. 

"Yes."

"Why don't you stay? You look tired, you can rest here," she said, smiling as she and Sanemi walked up to the door.

Giyuu went to shake his head but his eye caught Sanemi's calculating gaze and he was suddenly unable to speak, unsure what he should feel.

Kanae ushered him and Sanemi inside, closing the door behind her. (do you get deja vú :3)

Inside, Kanae told Giyuu he could rest in one of the guest rooms, instructing Sanemi to lead him there.

Then she left to go to her sister, leaving the two Hashira alone.

"Uhm. Shinazugawa," Giyuu said, shifting uncomfortably. 

Sanemi ignored him, walking through the halls where Giyuu presumed was the room he was meant to sleep in.

"Your room," Sanemi said, comfirming Giyuu's presumption as he pointed to a door at the end of the next hall.

"Shinazugawa?" 

"What?" Sanemi's eyes flicked over Giyuu, as if reading him.

"You're... dating Ko- Kanae?" Giyuu asked quietly.

"And?"

"Con...grats, then," he murmured.

"The hell?" Sanemi raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a second then rolled his eyes and turned away.

As he started to leave, Giyuu watched him carefully.

It didn't seem like Kanae and Sanemi had just recently started dating. Which would mean Giyuu had kissed Sanemi—no, Sanemi had kissed Giyuu—when he'd been in a relationship. When he was.

Fuck, why had Giyuu thought he had had a chance anyways? And why the hell had Sanemi done that?

{Word count: 1380}

Randomly ends bc i'm too lazy to finish it 🤩

[random-little-imagines]

Fractured Moments, Charles and Erik x Reader, seizures

Heyyy, so its been a few years. Sorry about that. This is my first proper fanfic, any and all constructive criticism, spelling/grammar fixes welcome. Please note I wrote this at 1am and its not proof read. Trigger warning for seizures, blood and other bodily fluids, as well as struggling to breathe. vaguely semi based on my own experiences with seizures

Also I don't normally write - but there's a severe lack of x reader being comforted through a seizure ( tho this ended up more angsty then intended) and I use x readers to cope with stuff..... so here we are lol.

Please do not share my work to other sites or claim it as your own. thank you.

Word count: 1934

Late in the evening the Xavier mansion hallways were still. Moria and most of the others had retired for the evening, stiff and sore from the days training – but knowing there was more to come tomorrow.

Charles and Erik however, could not sleep. Instead, they found themselves in front of a warm fire engrossed in a game of chess disusing their views on how the world will see them after they reveal themselves in the coming days.  You couldn’t sleep either, not from a lack of trying, but worry consumed you. How would all this end? Would humans truly accept you? So you found yourself seated on the couch watching the game unfold – so far it looked like a draw.

You had been feeling off most of the day, but you couldn’t quite explain how you felt, so you simply chalked it up to the training sessions. Before Charles had found you, like others, you kept your mutation hidden but late at night you would venture out into the forest behind your house to practice control – something you were grateful for now.  The strange feeling grew, making you almost dizzy and your heart started pounding, still trying to brush it off as exhaustion you stood wanting to head to bed to see if you could finally sleep.

You made it about all of three steps, then you went down.

The sound of a body hitting the floor alerted the men, and their hearts sank. There you lay on the floor back rigid and convulsing violently.

“Y/N!” Charles exclaimed.

Jumping to his feet. his mind instantly reaching out to yours to see if he could get a better understanding of what was going on, but aside from the occasional flicker of awareness from you, he got nothing but indecipherable chaos. He raced over to you, Erik not far behind, their chess game forgotten. And the hushed discussion replaced with the sounds akin to choking – you weren’t getting enough air.

“Get them on their side” Erik said as calmly and firmly as he could muster.

As the men began to turn you over, they noticed it wasn’t just the seizure they needed to worry about, as you fell you hit your head on the side of a coffee table, opening a nasty gash on the side of your head, blood spilling consistently from it, painting the floor and side of your face red.

“shit”

Charles quickly grabbed the handkerchief out of his pocket and tried to stem the bleeding while also trying to keep you from causing further harm to your head. He could feel the warmth of your blood, he tried not to think about it. The flickers of awareness Charles picked up on were ones of fear and uncertainly and the overwhelming urge to breathe, but your body wouldn’t obey your command.

“you’re alright. we’ve got you. its all going to be ok. come on love, breath for us,” Charles softly said to you, unsure if you could fully hear him.

“can’t you put a stop to this” Erik almost snapped, his façade of calmness cracking slightly.

“This is out of my control I’m afraid,”

You could vaguely hear the men, but it sounded almost like you were under water. you could feel the painful rigidness of your back and the convulsing of your muscles but you kept slipping in and out. Unable to fully anchor yourself, you think you are able to feel Charles in your head aswell, but are uncertain.

“This is going on for too long Charles, dammit they need to breath” Erik said putting his hand on your shoulder trying to keep you on your side without restraining you.  Erik, usually so composed, his façade slipping further leaving the man visibly stricken.

“I agree, but there is not much we can….” Charles trailed off, paling noticing your struggle for breath had changed from concerning to down right frightening, he tried to angle your head to try and open your air ways but the muscles in your neck were unmovable. Your lips starting to form a bluish tint

“Come on Y/N breath” Erik all but whispered.

Charles tried your mind again, willing his powers to aid in any way, to find the cause and put a stop to all this, but to no avail, all he was met with was chaos and static.

“Breath dammit, come on,” Erik said harshly his worry hidden behind anger.

Charles closed his eyes trying in anyway he could to try and find a way around the wall of static in your mind.

A gurling chocking noise started

“CHARLES!” Erik yelled, Charles’s eyes snapping open.

A white foamy liquid now spilling from your mouth.

“Their aspirating” Charles said an urgency to his voice that wasn’t there before

“What do we do,” Erik asked Charles, looking to him for guidance.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he man looked lost

“Dammit Charles!”

The seconds ticked but they felt like hours “come on, you’re going to be ok, you’re stronger than this, come on breath,” Eriks jaw clenched. Your body continued to seize beneath his palm. He willed his powers to stay in check.

“You need to take deep breaths. We’re here. You’re safe. It’s almost over.” Charles tried again.

Reaching out again telepathically, Charles found a crack amongst the static “ There I’ve got you!”

“Charles?”

“Hush! I’ve only just…” he said pained, “Clear their month,” Erik did so quickly. Charles working his way through the crack, he willed you to breath, tried to calm you. His voice was a soothing whisper amidst the chaos. “its going to be ok, we have you,”

The chocking noise stopped and then a gasp erupted from you, sucking in needed air. Each moment felt like an eternity to the young men. Your convulsions starting to subside but they willed them to stop completely. The blue tinge to your lips slowly reseeding.

“ That’s it love, come back to us” Charles whispered.

The blood, the sounds, the movements. It was something both men wished they would ever have to experience again.

As the seizure gradually began to subside, Charles guided your thoughts with intense focus, his mental presence a gentle anchor. He could feel your breathing starting to normalize, though it was still ragged. Charles worked tirelessly, willing your lungs to find a rhythm.

“You’re doing great. Just a little longer.” Charles urged softly.

The convulsions, at last finally came to an end, the men looked to each other shoulders dropping slightly. Hoping the worst was over.

“Y/N? can you hear me?” Erik asked softy eyes locked in to your face, watching for any small sign.

“They may need a second Erik,”

A noise of painful recognition came from the back of your throat, your body and lungs ached. And the feelings of fear remained.  Erik moved his hand from your shoulder to up and down your arm trying to provide comfort  “can you open your eyes for us?”

You managed to open your eyes slightly, though you felt more drained then you could ever imagine. As you began to regain full awareness, your gaze was disoriented but eventually focused on Charles and Erik. The relief in their eyes was palpable, and a faint, shaky smile graced their lips.

“Their they are,” Erik said.

“Erik, may you please fetch a needle and suture thread as well as stuff to clean the wound from the lavatory down the hall,” Charles asked pointing with his head the direction the other man needed to go. blood had soaked through the handkerchief and was dripping onto the floor. Erik not wanting to leave your slide but knowing it was needed hesitantly but quicky left to retrieve said items, returning swiftly to your side. “Thank you, my friend,”

“I can do it, I’ve done it before,” Erik spoke, leaving no room for argument. Charles nodded and Erik quickly took over Charles spot, resting your head against his thigh. “I’m sorry this may sting a bit, you’ve gotten a nasty cut on your head and we need to close it up,”

Charles now it the spot Erik once inhabited hand interlocked with yours spoke “I can dull their pain receptors,” Erik nodded “are you ready? If you feel anything too painful squeeze my hand, I can’t fully stop you from feeling it, but I can do what I can,” a sound of acknowledgement came from you and Charles nodded to Erik.

Erik’s hands were steady but his eyes were filled with worry, first he disinfected to wound then he began meticulously stitching the wound up. It was small but it was deep – no wonder it bleed to so much. “There all done,” Erik said as he cut the thread “How are you feeling Y/N?”

“Drained and really sore,” you spoke in a weak whispered voice. A headache pounding behind your eyes.

“Has this ever happened before?” Charles asked gently, you shook your head no “Ok, How about we get you set up in one of the main bedrooms The rooms are big enough that there is also a seating area, that way Erik and I can keep an eye on you,” but it wasn’t a question. The men nodded to each other and Erik lifted you up gently carrying you bridal style.  and letting Charles guide him through the maze that was the Xavier mansion. He glanced at Charles, their shared concern unspoken but deeply felt.

Charles opened the door and pulled the covers back on the bed. The room was filled with a heavy silence as Erik carried you to the bed with a tender care and layed you down. Charles noticed that you still had blood on your face and went to the ensuite and retrieved a wet wash cloth and began wiping away the blood. “Hey,” Charles said softly, brushing a hand across your cheek. “You did great. Just rest now."

“go to sleep, we are here if anything happens, we can speak about this in the morning,”

you nodded gratefully to the pair “Thank you,”

“don’t mention it, you’re safe now and we are right here if anything happens,” Erik said his façade slowly rebuilding. “We’re here. You’re safe,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the storm of emotions within him.

As your eyes closed and breathing deepened, Charles and Erik exchanged a look of deep relief. “They’ll be ok,” Charles whispered to Erik, his voice thick with emotion. Erik nodded, his expression a mix of relief and residual concern.

Erik went and sat on one of the available chairs in the room, his eyes never leaving the steady rise and fall of your chest. Charles came and joined him “what caused this?” he whispered

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Charles spoke sounding almost numb. A stillness and a silence fell upon the room.  For a long while, the two of them remained in that quiet space. The only sound being your breathes both men transfixed on that sound.  Charles’s mind still tethered to yours, hoping maybe, that if that starts to happen again tonight, he can try and stop it before it fully consumes you like it did earlier. He also send you waves of calm trying to ensure you slept peacefully.

“We did everything we could,” Charles murmured, breaking the still silence his voice thick with emotion.

Erik nodded, his gaze still fixed on you. “Yes, we did,” he said softly. “I just wish there was more we could do.”

The two men sat together in quiet vigil, hoping, praying that you never have to go through that again.

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Partner in Crime

For @thepenultimateword's Song-Story Writing Challenge Extravaganza

Song prompt submitted by @starry-night-author - I hope this does what you'd imagined justice!

(song info at the end, read the snippet first :)

Empty shadows and dim streetlights. 

A locked door and a pair of headlights. 

Henchman slid down further in the passenger seat of the dark sedan parked strategically across the street from her quarry as the pale lights pulled around the corner and the silence of the empty street was shattered. 

--already late, got to hurry. He might have already left and if I blow this job--

Crooked tires and a slamming door. 

--do I have all the supplies? Yes, you checked twice you numskull, the code, the code, don’t drop anything--

The figure fumbled over their bags until a single finger snaked out towards the shining metal buttons that stood out against the weathered side of the of the old brick mansion that took up half the block. 

--there we go, 64729, yes now the handle, no!--

A thick folder smacked against the ground, and the  crouched awkwardly with their laden arms to reclaim it, turning enough that the streetlight gleamed off the smooth cheeks of the fresh-faced hero. 

When the door finally slammed shut behind them, Henchman dropped her focus, and the chaotic thoughts faded into the quiet buzzing of a trapped fly. 

Four weeks of nightly surveillance, and she finally had the last code they needed. 

Her pen scratched across the inside of her wrist. 64729. 

As the minutes turned to hours, she let her eyes close and her mind wander. He wouldn’t want to wait, not with the XX approaching, Everything else was already in place. Tomorrow, the wait would be over. 

The sky was two shades lighter when the door finally opened again. 

The figure reimerged, hands empty, and darted to their car, head ducked and eyes scanning the shadows. 

The red tail lights were still visible when Henchman blinked, and he was beside her, the driver's door already clicking shut. 

His thoughts hummed, flying by like a bullet train, smooth and blurred like they always were. “You got it?” It was more a statement than a question, and Henchman pressed her lips together to keep from beaming at the unspoken praise. 

“I got it,” she confirmed, twisting her arm to show him the numbers on her wrist. 

This thoughts zoomed, as fast as he was, until the train slowed into a single track of a toy train running circles under a tree as he caught her hand and slowly kissed the inside of her wrist. 

Genius, brilliant talent, indispensable. 

Henchman was glad for the shadows that kept the heat in her cheeks hidden. 

When his mind raced, it was like a override channel, white noise she could focus on to tune out the chaos of the crowds around her. 

But she loved even more the rich texture of his mind when he slowed down and his thoughts turned to appreciation. His praises never failed to make her melt. 

“You’re incredible, H.” 

She barely stopped herself from responding with “No you are.” It would have been too corny, and unnecessary. Villain was a genius, and he knew it. 

His thoughts picked up again, flying by but at a pace she could follow. A silver keypad, a brick hallway, a gleaming brass safe. His forehead brushed her as his thoughts slowed to a stop as the safe swung open and revealed their treasure. 

She looked into his dark scheming eyes, so close to hers. 

“Tomorrow?” 

Villain smiled the wicked smile she loved so much, and, in her mind, he leaned forward an inch until their lips finally met. 

He sat back into his seat, already running through the plan again. 

“Tomorrow.” 

-------

Hurry, hurry we’re going to be late!

Two cappuccinos, one americano, one diet americano, three blacks, two chai-- no three? Was it two? Mia, Thomas, Mindy? Did she have one?? Who am I missing-- 

Four blocks down and take a left--

I should have picked the black shoes, I can already feel the blisters forming. 

Can I just quit and sell books online? I don’t want to people today… 

Get out of the way you moron it looks like rain twelve dozen is not enough cute dog there she is I want oh sorry they’re calling again now please sweaters work open mine stopmyturnclosebootslatepeopleparkwalkinggo--

“Henchman.”

Large hands dropped on her shoulders, and the flood of voices disappeared as the purring hum of thoughts wrapped around her. 

Villain slid one hand down her shaking arms to grasp her hand. 

“Henchman.” 

At the second time, she looked up at him. 

“You can do this. Twenty minutes and we will be back at base.” 

Base. Headquarters. Safety. Home. 

The sanctuary Villain had made for her where no other minds could drown out her own. 

Henchman turned back to the street crowded with light and people. So different from its quiet shadows of the night. 

“Henchman.” 

She pulled her eyes back to Villain. “Six minutes of focus, and then it will be over.” His hand on her shoulder tightened. “Six minutes, just like we practiced.” 

She forced a swallow and a nod. 

His mind ran through the plan once more, and she did her best to follow as the voices pressed against her. 

When Villain was satisfied she wasn’t going to fall apart, he released her and stepped back. 

“We’ll just walk down the street like a happy couple and slip inside.” 

The nod came easier this time. It was an image she often pictured. 

The hand that was still wrapped around hers shifted until their fingers were intertwined, and her heart stuttered as he pulled her out of the alley and into the stream of pedestrians. 

The warmth of it occupied her mind until Villain pulled her to an abrupt halt and before she’d registered they’d stopped, the door was open and they were slipping into the narrow brick hallway. 

Henchman lost track of the turns as Villain pulled her through the labyrinth of hallways. 

Using the humming of his thoughts as a buffer as she used her powers to avoid guards and patrons as he dragged her through the repurposed mansion. 

Three minutes and fourth two seconds since they left the safety of the alley, they came to a stop in front of a wide mahogany door. 

Villain picked the lock in the blink of an eye. His hand on the handle, he turned back to her. 

Henchman shook her head. 

No minds were present behind that door. 

The safe was covered by the painting behind the desk. A cheap imitation of a Monet that was worth less than the gaudy frame that held it. 

Henchman dropped into the leather desk chair with a sigh of relief as Villain went to work at the safe.

The whirring of the safe handle was the only sound as Henchman shuffled through the desk drawers, pocketing a golden hilted letter opener and a ruby crusted pennant ring. 

Leaning back in the chair, she enjoyed the pillowing cushion of silence that eased the pounding headache that was building behind her eyes. 

Through the window she heard a dog barking and the distant echo of a siren. 

Henchman sat up with a jolt as the final tumbler dropped into place and the door to the safe creaked open. 

“Wait!” 

A cloud of mist exploded from the safe; her warning too little, too late. 

Henchman doubled over as the tear gas burned her eyes. The door they’d closed behind them slammed open, and the flood of mind-voices returned like a tidal wave. 

A room that blocked out the thoughts of others. Oh how foolish she’d been. Villain had created for her just such a space. 

The voices crested with the throbbing in her head that had returned tenfold.  

The loudest of the voices was filled with derision. 

“Did you really think we were such fools?” 

A hand on her shoulder. 

She ignored the judgment in the hero’s question and looked up at her partner in crime. His eyes were creased with regret. 

Villain. 

It was as if he was the one reading her mind this time. 

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. A ten lane freeway rather than a bullet train. 

Analyzing all the possibilities. 

But Henchman already knew the answer. 

He’d come back for her. 

She lifted her hand to his on her shoulder. 

“Run.”

The song for this prompt was Partner in Crime by Madilyn Mai

Taglist:

@im-a-wonderling @shieldmaiden-of-gondor @watercolorfreckles @distance-does-not-matter @onestopheroxvillain @lolafaiy @chaoticgoodandi @1becky1 @tobeornottobeateacher @himynameisorla @superherosweet @brekker-by-brekkerr @crazytwentythrees @great-day-today @sunflower1000@selectivegeekwithstandards @chibicelloking @trantolette @sapphiques @jinpanman @genesissane @wish1bone1 @amongtheonedaisy @distractedlydistracted @kitsunesakii @glitterythief @jinx1365 @cherrychewingbrat @in-patient-princess @thepenultimateword @sorrow-and-bliss @technikerin23 @deflated-bouncingball @talesofurbania1 @rivalriotrenegade @valiantlytransparentwhispers

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”