#sorry about anything I missed in the tags

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1974 - ...but it was never meant to be

chapter summary: You and Logan have been living in the Canadian Rockies for almost 6 months, enjoying the peace and solitude that comes with it.

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is just fluff, at least until the end... but we're finally hitting the movies! and sorry for it being a bit shorter than the others, there are some ideas i'm saving for a future chapter :))

(p.s. the first sentence about the hotel in nyc is going to be very important to remember for a future chapter...)

warnings/tags: fluff, origins!logan, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, (beginning of) x-men origins, character death

series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7

Leaving was easy once you got past the one incident. You and Logan had stopped that day at a hotel a bit out of New York City only to be found by your father’s men.

But what happened was almost like magic. Logan, your Logan, took them all out with claws. At first you were bewildered, shocked at what you just saw. But now, after 6 months of living in the Canadian Rockies, it was normal.

Normal.

Mornings would start with the soft light streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over your shared space as Logan brewed coffee and you stretched, enjoying the easy comfort of it all.

Logan had found work quickly enough as a lumberjack, something that kept him outside and busy, and it suited him. Meanwhile, you’d stumbled upon a small animal shelter in the nearby town. You’d started going once or twice a week, helping out with the dogs and occasionally picking up shifts to keep yourself busy and connected to some semblance of normal life.

The routines you fell into together were quiet, steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt grounded. Though you missed New York sometimes, especially the volunteer work at the retirement home, the silence of the woods and the small town was a peaceful change.

Not only were things peaceful, but Logan had started opening up to you in the quiet of your cabin, usually in the early morning or after one of his nightmares. It started with little things—details about his mutation, his healing ability. Then, as the days blurred into weeks, he told you about his age and the wars he’d fought in, his voice quiet, words weighed down with old memories.

One chilly morning, you found him staring out the window, his gaze distant as he sipped his coffee. You moved up beside him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you alright?”

He looked down at you, a flicker of a smile breaking through the shadows. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but calm.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offered, watching his face closely.

Logan considered this for a moment, then took a long breath. “I think… just realizin’ how long it’s been since I had somethin’ like this,” he finally admitted, a glint of honesty in his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a road, darlin’.”

You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm. “I don’t need to know everything, Logan. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He gave a short nod, letting his hand rest over yours, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wrapped around yours, holding them a moment longer than necessary.

---

Life in the cabin wasn’t extravagant, but there was a certain charm in the simplicity. Nights spent by the fire, mornings with the scent of pine and fresh coffee, and the comforting weight of Logan’s arm draped over you as you both drifted into sleep. But there were also the little bumps—like the time you tried making him dinner.

It had been a stew recipe, something you thought would be foolproof. You’d stirred, added spices, tasted… but when you served it, the look on Logan’s face was priceless.

He took a spoonful, eyebrows lifting as he held back a chuckle. “This a new recipe?”

“Okay, I get it—it’s not great,” you sighed, laughing a little as you took a bite yourself. “Alright, yeah, maybe it’s terrible.”

Logan chuckled, setting his spoon down. “It’s not so bad. I mean… it’s got heart.”

You nudged him, rolling your eyes. “Heart doesn’t mean it’s edible, Logan.”

“Maybe not,” he smirked, “but I’ll still eat it.” He winked, lifting another spoonful as he pretended to struggle through the bowl, making you burst into laughter.

---

Late one night, Logan awoke from one of his nightmares. You knew, even before he’d fully come to, just by the way he stiffened beside you. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, and you reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whispered.

He looked down at you, the muscles in his jaw tight. But after a moment, he nodded. “It was a long time ago. Just old ghosts.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “There’s been a lot of violence. Stuff… I don’t ever want you to have to see.”

“I know you’ve seen a lot,” you murmured, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “But you don’t have to go through it alone, Logan. Not anymore.”

Logan’s hand covered yours, and he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but searching. “You’ve been more than I deserve, Y/N,” he said quietly.

Your heart twisted, and you reached up to cup his face. “Logan, I don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. All that matters is who you are now.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky man,” he whispered, his voice low.

He held you close that night, your presence calming the echoes of a past that seemed finally willing to rest, if only for a while.

---

One day you were trying to make something simple, roast chicken and potatoes before Logan got back from work. You diligently checked the oven, making sure that nothing was burning, until Logan came home, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood up from the oven.

Logan’s hands settled warmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked over at the oven. The familiar, steady weight of him grounded you, even as you felt your heart give a quick little skip at the simple, domestic gesture.

“Smells good in here,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he took in the scent of roasting chicken and herbs. “Didn’t know you were this fancy in the kitchen.”

You let out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Fancy might be a stretch. I’m just hoping it doesn’t come out dry.”

His arms tightened just a bit, pulling you closer. “Even if it did, I’d still eat it,” he said, a hint of that playful glint in his voice. “Means a lot, havin’ you here. Feels like… home.”

A warmth rose in your chest, one that went beyond the physical, and you leaned back into him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I could get used to this too.” You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Long days, quiet dinners, just us.”

“Us,” he echoed, his voice softer, thoughtful. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something unspoken yet weighty. His thumb brushed small, slow circles along your hip, as if anchoring himself in the moment, and he gave you a slight smile that didn’t quite mask the intensity behind it.

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you felt a shift in his posture, almost like he wanted to say something but was holding back. He looked at you in that way he sometimes did—like he was seeing more than just you standing there in your small, cozy kitchen. Maybe he was seeing all the days stretching ahead, those simple moments you’d have together, and the weight of that left him speechless.

“Logan?” you asked, brushing a hand along his arm.

He blinked, then smiled, the intensity in his gaze easing back into something gentler. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, with just the faint hum of the oven and the quiet, steady beat of Logan’s heart against your back. In the quiet of your little life together, things felt simple, natural. Here, there were no expectations, no obligations—just the two of you, building something real out of those little, ordinary moments.

But later that night, as you drifted off beside him, Logan stayed awake, lost in thought. His hand brushed over the small velvet box in his drawer, the ring that had waited all this time, the one that had been meant for you once before. He ran his thumb along the edge, thinking about when the right time might be—or if he’d even have the chance. For now, though, he’d savor each day, each quiet moment, holding on as tightly as he could.

---

You lay nestled between Logan’s legs on the couch, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you read, while he watched TV, idly sipping his beer. His free hand drifted up and down your arm absentmindedly, and you could feel the faint rumble of his quiet breaths beneath you. There was a calm in the cabin tonight—a peace you’d found only since being with him.

“What’s got you so hooked?” he asked, glancing down at your book with a smirk. “Looks like you’re deep in it.”

You tilted the book so he could see the cover, Jaws. “It’s a book about a shark.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “a shark, huh?”

You turned back to the book, keeping a small smile hidden. “Kind of. It’s a little deeper than just a shark, though.”

“Deeper than a shark, huh?” Logan smirked, shifting slightly to glance down at you, looking mildly amused. “Didn’t think a fish story could be that interesting.”

“It’s not just any fish, Logan,” you said, letting your hand rest on his as you settled back into his warmth. “This shark’s on a whole other level—a menace, basically unstoppable. And there’s all this tension between the people in the town, like who’s responsible, what to do, whether they even believe it’s happening.”

He gave a soft grunt of understanding, taking a sip of his beer. “Guess I can see why you’re hooked. Townsfolk fighting over a monster they can’t get rid of… kinda familiar.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, a glint of curiosity in your eyes. “You got experience with monsters, Logan?”

“More than you’d believe, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes holding that far-off look he sometimes got when his mind slipped somewhere else, somewhere harder. But his grip on you stayed gentle, grounding him here.

There was a moment’s quiet, then he smirked, leaning down closer. “But I could take out your shark, no question.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, closing the book and giving him a look of mock skepticism. “A great white shark, Logan. One that can bite clean through a boat. I think even you’d have some trouble with that one.”

He snorted, giving you an exaggerated look of disbelief. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’d have it done in five minutes.”

You laughed, poking his chest. “I’d like to see that. You, in the water, with a shark. You’d probably scare it off.”

“Probably,” he chuckled, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something genuine. “But I’d do it for you.”

His words caught you off guard, softening the teasing banter into something warmer, something real. You looked up at him, and the light in his eyes held a familiar steadiness, a promise you hadn’t expected. You felt a smile creeping up, one that made your heart beat a little faster.

“That’s sweet of you, Logan. But don’t go risking your life over a shark.”

He shrugged, giving a small grin. “Risking my life’s kinda my thing.”

With a smirk, you shifted to put your arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to fight any sharks. I just need you here, safe, preferably not trying to tackle any more sea monsters.”

Logan’s hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Don’t worry, darlin’. For you, I’d stay outta trouble… or at least, try.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, a promise in every kiss, every touch.

When you pulled back, he let out a small sigh, looking at you with a softness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“Now,” you murmured, your voice quiet as you tried to keep the mood light, “how about you let me finish reading this book before you start making any plans to fight sharks?”

“Fine,” he chuckled, leaning back into the couch, his arms still loosely around you. “But I’m just sayin’, the offer stands.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting back to lean against his chest, your book in hand. But even as you returned to the words on the page, the comfortable silence between you filled every corner of the cabin, your heart warmed by the man beside you.

---

When Logan came home and removed his jacket, the sound of music drifted to his ears, mingling with the low hum of a vacuum. The cabin was warm, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside, the smell of pine and faint wood smoke greeting him like an old friend. The soft glow of late afternoon sun streaked through the windows, and as he stepped further in, he caught sight of you.

You were standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on your frame, the hem brushing just below the tops of your thighs. The vacuum roared in your hand as you cleaned, entirely oblivious to his arrival.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you. Something about this—a simple domestic scene—made his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that he couldn’t quite name.

“Y’know, you’re not supposed to wear clothes that fit me better than they fit you,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the vacuum’s roar.

Startled, you turned it off with a quick flick of the switch and looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. “Logan! You scared me,” you said.

“Didn’t mean to,” he replied, his tone warm as he pushed off the frame and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, and as he got closer, his eyes drank you in, lingering on the way the flannel gaped slightly at the neck, exposing the soft line of your collarbone. “Got a habit of sneakin’ up, I guess.”

You laughed softly, setting the vacuum aside. “If you were a little less loud, I’d think you were some kind of predator.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading as he reached for you, hands settling at your waist and pulling you close, “if I wanted to catch you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled between you, his voice a low rumble that always managed to make your knees feel just a little weaker. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath your palms. “Good thing I’m not running then,” you murmured, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours. “Good thing,” he echoed, before his lips claimed yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, pulling you tighter against him. The flannel you wore rose slightly under his touch, and you gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers found bare skin.

“Logan,” you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft plea.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his mouth trailing down your jawline, his scruff brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Think you should let me finish cleaning,” you teased, though your hands had already slid up to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the dark strands at the base of his skull.

He huffed a laugh, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your throat. “Nah, think I got a better idea.”

With a swift move, he bent and swept you off your feet, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. You let out a startled laugh, clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch. “Logan, the vacuum—”

“Vacuum’ll be there later,” he cut in, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. “Right now, you’re the only thing I’m worried about.”

He set you down gently on the cushions, his large frame hovering over you as he knelt on the floor, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the flannel higher. The intensity in his gaze sent a flush rising to your cheeks, your heart pounding in anticipation.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, his voice thick, raw. His hands paused, fingers curling just under the hem of the shirt. “Mind if I show you how much?”

You nodded, breathless, and he smiled—a rare, almost boyish expression that quickly dissolved into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for doubt about where his mind was. His hands roamed freely now, skimming along the curve of your thighs, pushing the flannel higher and higher, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the room.

“Goddamn,” Logan muttered against your lips, his voice thick, raw. His hands splayed across your thighs, gripping them as though grounding himself, his thumbs brushing along the tender skin there. “You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.”

A shiver ran through you, anticipation building as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed caresses. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved further down, sinking to his knees before you, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart.

"Logan..." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The intensity there made your breath hitch. “Let me take care of you.”

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, taking his time, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing. Your heart pounded as you felt his warm breath against your skin, so close to where you wanted him, needed him.

When his lips finally brushed against you, his tongue darting out to taste, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that spilled from your lips. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you with an expertise that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching his hair, your hips arching into him. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you trembling, your thighs pressing around his head.

Logan growled against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound of it—rough, primal—only spurred you on. He was relentless, his lips and tongue working you with a fervor that left no doubt about how much he enjoyed this, enjoyed you.

“Logan, I—” Your words dissolved into a whimper, your body tensing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His name was a mantra on your lips, each syllable punctuated by gasps and moans as he pulled you apart and put you back together with every stroke of his tongue.

When you finally shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave, he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, his hands holding you steady as you trembled, as your body arched and writhed against him. Only when you were completely spent, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough, gravelly, as he rose to his feet, his hands still resting on your thighs. “I could do that all night.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the couch, your body still tingling, your cheeks flushed. “You’re insatiable.”

“Says the woman who was just beggin’ me for more,” Logan teased, his voice a low rumble as his lips brushed against yours. His kiss was slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of him mixed with the remnants of your own release sent a thrill racing through you, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, keeping him close.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You sure you’re not tryin’ to kill me, darlin’? Feels like every time I get my hands on you, I lose a few more pieces of myself.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your fingers idly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”

Logan huffed a laugh, the sound deep and almost self-deprecating. His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, his gaze locked on yours. “For you, maybe not. For me? I’m startin’ to think I wouldn’t mind it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, a quiet confession that made your chest tighten. You reached up, brushing your thumb along the rough edge of his jaw. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You’re too important, Logan. To me.”

His expression softened, the hard edges of his usual demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”

“Maybe you should show me,” you said, your voice carrying a teasing lilt, though the heat in your eyes betrayed how serious you were.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous grin. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”

He let out a low growl, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “You’re damn right I don’t.”

In one fluid motion, Logan had you lifted, his hands firm as he repositioned you to straddle his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you settled against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, the solidness of him grounding you in a way that felt almost necessary.

“See? Told ya I had better plans than cleanin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

You tilted your head, giving him more access, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I think I’m starting to agree.”

Logan’s hands roamed over you, calloused fingers exploring the soft curves of your body with reverence. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements. It was deliberate, almost tender, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

His lips trailed a path along your neck, his scruff scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he admitted, his voice low, almost like a growl.

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

Logan’s hands gripped the hem of the flannel you wore, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he slowly lifted it. He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in the sight of your bare skin bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but the look in his eyes kept any hint of self-consciousness at bay. “You’re staring,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“Can’t help it,” he said simply, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of lookin’ at you.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, your hands threading through his hair as you pressed yourself against him.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he shifted beneath you, the hard press of him against your core drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He swallowed the sound with a groan, his grip tightening as he began to rock you against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”

His hands moved to your waist, guiding your movements as he kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. Each roll of your hips against him was maddeningly slow, the steady build of tension making you ache for more.

“Logan, please,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you tried to quicken the pace.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “Patience, Y/N. I’m not in a rush.”

You huffed in frustration, though the warmth in his gaze softened the sharp edges of your need. “You’re cruel,” you muttered, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“Cruel, huh?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he shifted beneath you. “Pretty sure you’ll be thankin’ me when I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound dissolving into a soft moan as he bucked his hips against you, the friction sending another wave of heat coursing through you.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice a mix of exasperation and longing.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yeah, darlin’? What do you need?”

“You,” you said simply, the single word carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you.

Logan’s expression softened, his teasing demeanor shifting as something deeper flickered in his gaze. “You’ve got me,” he said, his voice steady, his hands firm on your hips as though anchoring you to him.

Your heart stuttered at his words, the raw sincerity of them making your chest feel impossibly tight. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his as your fingers slid down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under your touch. “I’m glad,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss unhurried and deliberate, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. The heat of him seeped into your skin, grounding you as you moved against him. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that made you ache for more.

“Darlin’,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and strained, “you’re makin’ it real hard to take this slow.”

“Maybe I don’t want slow,” you countered, your tone teasing, though the way your breath hitched betrayed your own urgency.

Logan chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you as his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. “Trust me, you do,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your thighs tighten around him. “I want to feel every second of this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in his hair as he took his time exploring every inch of you. Logan’s hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he shifted on the couch, settling back further into the cushions.

The new angle pressed you more firmly against him, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed with another kiss. “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice trembling as you shifted your hips, testing the pressure between you.

Logan growled low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as his hands slid up your back. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his words heavy with reverence.

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he was looking at you, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. “Off,” you said simply, your voice breathless but firm.

He smirked, obliging without hesitation as he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Your eyes raked over him, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the scars that marred his otherwise flawless skin.

“Like what you see?” he teased, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“Always,” you replied, your hands trailing over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of old wounds. “You’re beautiful, Logan.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding back to your waist. “Don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”

“Well, they should have,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you as you moved against him, the steady grind of your bodies making your head spin. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, though the words were laced with affection.

“Not likely,” you quipped, a soft laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted again, one hand moving to undo the button of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you realized what was coming next, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze searching yours.

“Logan,” you said, your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

He nodded once, his hands steady as he slid his jeans down just enough, freeing himself. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as you took him in, your cheeks flushing at the sight.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he guided you closer, his hands firm on your hips.

You moved slowly, adjusting yourself over him, the heat of him against you making you tremble. Logan’s hands were steady, his thumbs brushing soothing circles on your skin as he guided you.

When you finally sank down onto him, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and fullness that made you moan softly. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You feel... Jesus, darlin’, you’re perfect.”

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he felt, the way he filled you completely. You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you began to move.

Logan’s hands guided your movements, his grip firm but not controlling as he let you set the pace. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming as you rocked against him, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

The steady rhythm built slowly, the intensity growing with each roll of your hips. Logan’s hands roamed over you, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, grounding you in the moment.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upward, matching your movements.

The new angle sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you clung to him. “Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Right here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the strain in it.

The intensity between you grew, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something more urgent as your bodies moved together. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch pushed you closer to the edge, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.

When you finally shattered, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Logan held you through it, his hands steady on your hips as your body trembled, his name falling from your lips in a breathless mantra.

He followed moments later, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening as he found his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other, the world outside forgotten.

“You okay?” Logan asked finally, his voice soft, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice muffled against his neck.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back to look at him.

Logan’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup your face. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your tone steady despite the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right I am,” he said, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish grin.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, the rest of the world fading away. For now, there was only this—only him.

---

You turned off the water that was filling the bathtub and dipped your hand in to test the temperature of the water. The water was just right—hot, with steam gently rolling off the surface. You stood, wiping your hands on the towel, just as you heard the front door creak open and close with a soft click. Logan’s footsteps padded quietly through the cabin, but you could still feel that familiar presence, that comforting weight of him even when he wasn’t yet in sight.

You barely had time to turn around before he appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of you standing by the tub. “Now this is a surprise,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Thought you’d like a soak after all that work you did today,” you replied, a little smile tugging at your mouth. You stepped aside, gesturing toward the water. “Go on, it’s ready.”

Logan’s gaze softened, though his smirk never quite faded. “So you’re spoilin’ me now, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Can’t have you overdoing it. You might be practically indestructible, but a hot bath never hurt anyone.”

He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. “Got a point there,” he admitted, tossing it onto the nearby chair. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over the familiar planes of his chest, scars crisscrossing his skin like a map of all the years he’d survived. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t mind—just kept undressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Logan stepped into the tub, easing himself down with a contented sigh as he settled into the water. He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the steam rose around him. For a moment, you simply watched him, a fond smile on your lips.

“Good?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “Better than good. You joinin’ me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “This one’s all yours. I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Before you could turn, Logan reached out, his wet hand catching yours. He looked up at you, his expression softer now. “Stay, darlin’. Least for a bit.”

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and you found yourself nodding, unable to refuse him. You sat down beside the tub, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of the water, and he let his hand rest in yours.

Logan kissed the top of your hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sure ya don’t wanna join me? Promise I don’t bite."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

He chuckled, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours, as if he was savoring this quiet moment between you. “Could use a little company, that’s all,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

“This is supposed to be a bath for you.” You replied, your own eyebrow quirked.

“I’d enjoy it more if you were in here with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at Logan, the corner of your mouth quirking into a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, maybe if you’re lucky.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the side of the tub. “Oh, come on. I’m always lucky when it comes to you.” His voice was a low murmur, pulling you in with that familiar, lazy charm he always seemed to have.

“Uh-huh, says the guy who tried to convince me he could take on a shark,” you shot back, crossing your arms, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re just full of bold ideas, huh?”

He chuckled, giving a shrug. “I stand by that. But I’m talkin’ serious here.” His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your wrist in a way that sent a warmth through you. “No sharks, no messin’ around. Just you, right here.”

The sincerity caught you a little off guard. The tension settled into something deeper as you looked at him, his hand steady on yours, like he was holding onto more than just the moment.

“I guess… I could keep you company,” you said softly, the lightness of your earlier words giving way to something quieter. You slipped out of your shirt, feeling Logan’s gaze follow you, his eyes dark with a warmth that made you feel both nervous and excited.

Sliding into the water, you settled in close to him, leaning back as his arms naturally came around you. The water was hot, relaxing every part of you, but it was Logan’s touch, the gentle press of his fingers tracing over your arm, that made you feel completely at ease.

“See?” he murmured against your hair, his lips grazing the top of your head. “Told ya this was a good idea.”

You hummed, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. “You did. Guess I should listen to you more often.”

Logan’s hand slid along your shoulder, trailing down your arm with a steady, careful touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch. You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, followed by the soft press of his lips just below your ear. The tension of the day melted away, leaving you relaxed and content in his embrace.

For a few moments, you both just stayed there, the only sounds the quiet rustle of water and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Logan’s fingers traced small, lazy circles along your arm, his other hand holding you close against him, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“So,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “this isn’t so bad, right?”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice rumbling against your back. “Peace and quiet. Just the two of us.” His hand dipped below the water, wrapping around yours.

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thought you’d be the type to get bored out here, all this peace and quiet.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, though his thumb continued to brush over the back of your hand. “Can handle a bit of quiet if it means you’re here,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him, your faces close. “Guess that makes two of us.” You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, the weight of those unspoken words lingering between you both.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his gaze soft and intent. “You gonna kiss me, or do I gotta ask real nice?”

“Always so impatient,” you teased, but you leaned in, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every second. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, your forehead resting against his.

Logan looked at you, a small, crooked smile on his lips. “See? Worth the wait.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “You really know how to charm a girl, you know that?”

“Only got one girl I’m tryin’ to charm,” he replied, his voice rough but warm.

Your smile softened as you nestled back against him, letting the silence settle over you both once more. The warmth of the water, the feel of his arms around you—it felt like a small eternity in that moment, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.

---

Trying to turn the conversation away from what Logan told you, about Stryker coming to visit him about a ‘mission’, you started to talk about your day, with Logan’s head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“The stray was matted but Tina started calling him Wolf. Said the dog reminded her of another animal.”

Logan hummed, his eyes still closed, “lemme guess, she showed you a picture of the animal from her book.”

You giggled, “yeah, she did. Gotta admit that dog looked quite similar to the wolverine in her book.” You tilted your head downwards to look at him, “Reminded me of you. Grizzly, sometimes dirty.”

Logan opened one eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Grizzly, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” You grinned, your fingers drifting through his hair in slow strokes. “Not just the dirty part, by the way. Wolverines are pretty fierce, don’t let much stand in their way.”

He let out a low chuckle, closing his eye again, seeming to relax further under your touch. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, comin’ from you.” There was a slight pause, and his voice softened a bit. “Not everyone’s a fan of the grizzly type.”

You scoffed lightly, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “Well, good thing I am. You know, even wolverines have a soft side somewhere.”

Logan huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? Don’t think I’ve got much of that left, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, you definitely do.” You brushed a thumb gently along his temple. “Trust me. Like today—taking the time to help out with that old couple’s truck, even after a full day’s work.” You smiled down at him, admiration clear in your gaze. “I see it, Logan, even if you don’t.”

He tilted his head a bit, opening his eyes and looking up at you, his expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, a smirk breaking the moment. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but he kept his usual, laid-back tone. “Guess I’m lucky you put up with me, huh?”

“You know it.” You winked, letting your fingers trail down to his jawline, and you felt him relax a little more, like he could melt under your touch. “Plus, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“Not an easy job,” he muttered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leaned into your hand, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N.”

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making your heart beat just a little faster, and you couldn’t help but lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, he just looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something else—a depth you didn’t need him to explain.

You shifted slightly, a small smile still on your face. “Now, about that dog—think you could convince Tina to bring him around here?”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips again. “Bringing a stray mutt up here? You sure?”

“Why not? He’d be a good watch dog for you when I’m not around,” you said, with a wink.

He chuckled, a bit softer this time. “Guess I’ll think about it.” Then, his eyes crinkled with that familiar spark of humor. “But only if you promise not to call me Grizzly in front of anyone else.”

You laughed, leaning back against the couch, his head still in your lap. “Deal.”

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, and you just let yourself soak up the comfortable silence, the simplicity of Logan resting there, perfectly at ease. And as your hand drifted gently through his hair again, you couldn’t help but wonder if this—these quiet moments��might be what you’d both been needing all along.

---

You were driving down a narrow road, the trees thickening as you made your way toward town. The familiar hum of a cassette player filled the car, and you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm. It had been a good week—a small but sweet milestone with Logan, half a year together, and you’d even managed to keep things peaceful in that cabin of his. Tonight was supposed to be simple, a little surprise you’d planned: a tiramisu. Probably the only thing you could bake to perfection.

You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—

The sight in the distance made your stomach twist. A figure stood in the middle of the road, dressed in black, unmoving, watching you with an unsettling focus. You slowed the car, blinking to see if you were imagining things. But no—he was still there, large and unflinching in the middle of the narrow path.

As you approached, your heart hammered against your ribs. Something about him was familiar, but not in any way that felt safe or warm.

You pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a cautious stop. The man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face coming into view under the faint sunlight streaming through the trees. His eyes were cold, almost amused, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

It was him—Victor. The man Logan had mentioned a few times, enough to make you know he wasn’t someone you’d ever want to meet, much less find waiting for you like this.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep, mocking, and calm in a way that was anything but reassuring.

You tried to keep your face calm, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Just heading into town,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt. “Is there…something you need?”

He tilted his head, like he was sizing you up. “Logan ever mention me?”

A chill crawled up your spine, but you kept your expression guarded. “Maybe once or twice.”

Victor took another step forward, his gaze raking over you with a twisted curiosity, almost like he was toying with the idea of letting you go—but only almost. “See, I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with him,” he drawled, his tone venomous, “and here you are, just making it easy for me.”

You felt a pulse of dread, instinct telling you to turn the car around and get out of there, fast. But you knew better than to provoke him. “Logan’s not here,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He smirked, that same cold expression never leaving his face. “I’m aware,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward you. “You think he’d leave someone like you on your own if he thought you’d be safe?”

Your heart raced, a knot of fear tightening in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, to stall him, to get yourself out of this, but nothing came to mind. The realization was dawning, and from the look in Victor’s eyes, he knew it too. There would be no bargaining, no reasoning with him.

"Didn't think Logan would be the type to leave someone behind. Guess I was wrong," he said, sounding amused.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, refusing to give in to the fear swirling in your chest. "Logan’s not here," you repeated, your voice firm.

"Like I said, I know," Victor replied smoothly, taking another step. His eyes traveled over the car, then over you, a twisted curiosity behind them. "But I figure, maybe you can pass along a little message for me."

Every instinct told you to run, but the car blocked you in, and Victor was only feet away. "What do you want, Victor?"

He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting under the dim light. "Simple. Tell Logan I said 'hi'... if you get the chance."

The dread in your stomach crystallized as he lunged forward. You tried to move, to react, but he was too fast. His hand closed around your throat, lifting you out of the car as though you weighed nothing, and you fought, kicking, clawing, anything you could think of to get free.

"You know," Victor’s voice was disturbingly calm, "he’s been through a lot. But there’s always that soft spot, that weakness he can’t seem to shake."

Desperation flared within you, and you kicked harder, one foot making contact with his chest. It only made him laugh, and he tightened his grip, his face drawing close enough that you could see the cold cruelty in his eyes.

"You’re just like all the others," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Maybe a little more stubborn, but that’s hardly new."

Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision, your breath coming shorter and shorter. You knew there was no getting out of this—not with him, not with a monster like Victor Creed.

But Logan...

---

Logan walked through the vegetation right by where he and the other guys were cutting apart a tree. He stopped short once he saw the head of an animal laying on the yellow grass.

“What you doing, Logan?” One of the guys asked from behind.

Logan looked around before seeing large scratch marks on a tree trunk, lined with red. “Y/N.” He whispered, before running down the hill and through the forest.

Once he hit the clearing, he could see the truck on the side of the road. Logan reached the car, his hands gripping the window frame as he scanned the empty interior. “Y/N…?” His voice was rough, the crack of worry breaking through, echoing in the quiet forest.

His eyes darted down to the disturbed earth, faint scuff marks in the dirt telling him where you might’ve been dragged. His heart hammered as he followed the path into the trees, every step growing heavier with dread as he moved through the dense underbrush, the silence unsettling.

And then, in a small clearing, he found you.

You were lying there, so still, your skin pale against the forest floor, hair fanned around you like a dark halo. Blood flecked the ground, stark and terrible against the greenery. He staggered, dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, one of them clenching briefly before he let himself touch you.

“Y/N…” he whispered, voice breaking as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing a smear of dirt from your cheek. Your eyes were closed, lips parted just slightly, as if you’d been trying to say his name. For a split second, he could almost pretend you were just asleep, and that any second you’d open your eyes, make some joke, or reach up to tug him down to you.

But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.

Logan’s breath caught, and he pulled you close, his arms cradling you as if he could shield you from the reality already etched into his heart. The rage simmered below his skin, burning through the grief, fueling the ache with something primal. He rocked back, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his face buried in your hair, trying to hold on to any last trace of you, the faint scent of you still lingering, even as everything around him felt like it was falling apart.

“You… You were supposed to be safe here,” he whispered against your hair, voice hoarse. “I shoulda been here. I shoulda…” His words trailed off into silence as he sat there, unmoving, clutching you in his arms as if the weight of his grief alone could pull you back.

He looked down at you, his thumb grazing over your cheek one last time, as though trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. “Y/N… I swear… I’ll make him pay.” The last words came out like a promise, a vow laced with the kind of anger only a man like Logan could bear. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before letting out a long, broken breath.

When he finally tore his gaze away from you, his eyes turned cold, a new resolve searing through him.

This wasn’t over.

umm... sorry??

i tried to make a different version of how logan got the name 'wolverine' to try and fit reader's personality, since she probably doesn't know about the myth kayla did.

next chapter will be x2!

[jaeyunluvbot]

i miss you, i'm sorry

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

word count 𝟅𝟈 5.3k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your apartment felt too quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy on your chest. Felix stood in the middle of the living room, his hands in his hoodie pockets, his face unreadable. It was one of the rare times you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that scared you.

“You deserve better than this,” he said, voice soft but firm, tinged with an unfamiliar edge.

“I deserve you,” you argued, your voice cracking. Your hands trembled at your sides, and you didn’t know if it was from anger or heartbreak. Maybe both.

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a grimace as he avoided your eyes. “Y/N… I can’t give you what you need. I’m always gone, and when I’m here, I’m still not here. You’ve been patient, more than I deserve, but I see what it’s doing to you.”

Your chest tightened, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I’m not asking for anything else, Lix. I know it’s hard, but I love you, and I thought—” Your voice caught. “I thought you loved me too.”

“I do,” he said, and his voice cracked in a way that made your knees feel weak. “That’s why I’m letting you go.” You could see tears welling up in his beautiful eyes and that made you want to run to him even more, but you hold yourself back, not sure he’d even want you near him.

You watch as he grabs his backpack off the floor, sending one last look at you, sighing when you refuse to meet his eyes, “I’m doing this for you, Y/N, I love you too much to keep doing this to you.”

You finally look into his eyes and he feels his heart splinter into pieces as he sees your red-rimmed eyes, tears slowly falling down your cheeks, “if you loved me, you’d stay.”

He sighs once more and turns away from you, heading towards the door, “I hope you can move on and find someone better, I’ll send the guys to pick up the rest of my stuff later.”

You desperately want to grab him, to scream in his face that he’s hurting you more by leaving, but instead you watch him go, shoulders heaving as you struggle to breathe.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The sound of the doorbell pulled you from the haze you’d been lost in for the past week. For a moment, you debated not answering it. The idea of facing anyone felt unbearable, but the bell rang again, persistent and sharp.

With a deep breath, you wiped at your face, hoping to look somewhat composed, and opened the door.

It was Chan, Hyunjin, and Seungmin.

“Hey,” Chan said softly, his eyes scanning your face. His usual warmth was shadowed by hesitation, as if he didn’t know how to approach you in this state.

You tightened your grip on the door, leaning against it to steady yourself. “Hi.”

“We, uh… We’re here for Felix’s things,” Hyunjin said, his voice quieter than usual. He glanced over his shoulder, like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

You nodded, stepping back to let them in. The apartment felt too big, too empty without Felix’s presence, even though his things were still scattered around. The members hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, their movements careful, almost reverent.

“Is he okay?” you asked, breaking the silence as they started packing his things into boxes.

Chan looked at you, his expression softening. “He’s… coping, I think. This wasn’t easy for him, Y/N.”

You laughed bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right.”

Hyunjin stopped mid-step, his eyes flickering between you and Chan. Seungmin nudged him gently, silently urging him to keep packing.

“It’s not like that,” Chan said gently, setting down a stack of books. “You know how much he cares about you. He just… he really thought he was doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?” you echoed, your voice rising. “By leaving me? By letting you all pack up his stuff, he can’t even face me, won’t even give me a say in ending our relationship?”

Chan’s shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked as lost as you felt. “I tried to talk him out of it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “We all did. But he wouldn’t listen. He thought you deserved better.”

“Better,” you repeated, shaking your head. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “He doesn’t get to decide that for me.”

No one had an answer for that, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

Hyunjin was the first to break it, his voice soft. “For what it’s worth, Y/N… he looked just as broken as you do right now. Maybe more.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to turn away before they could see the tears spill over. “Just… take his stuff and go.”

Chan hesitated, but eventually nodded. “We’ll be quick.”

As they carried out the boxes, you couldn’t bring yourself to watch. Instead, you stared out the window, focusing on the city skyline in the distance. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind them that you let the sobs escape, your chest heaving as you crumpled onto the couch.

Somewhere deep down, you wanted them to tell Felix how broken you seemed. Maybe then he’d realize that this “better life” he wanted for you didn’t exist without him.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Felix thought throwing himself into work would dull the ache.

Rehearsals became his only reprieve, every movement, every beat, an excuse to avoid the hollow pit in his chest. He stayed at the studio later than anyone else, perfecting choreography that didn’t need perfecting, re-recording verses that were already flawless. The other members noticed, of course they did—they weren’t blind.

“Lix,” Chan said one night, watching Felix push through yet another round of dance practice. The rest of the group had gone home hours ago, but Felix stayed, drenched in sweat, his breaths coming in short gasps as he went through the routine again.

“What?” Felix snapped, the sharpness in his tone unusual but expected.

Chan frowned but didn’t press further. He could see the exhaustion in Felix’s eyes, the weight he carried every time someone mentioned your name.

On stage, Felix was the picture of professionalism, his radiant smile masking the storm raging inside him. Fans screamed his name, but every cheer felt empty. He told himself it was for the best, that this was what you deserved—a version of him you didn’t have to suffer through.

But at night, when the noise died down and the hotel rooms felt too quiet, he’d reach for his phone out of habit. Your contact name stared back at him like a wound that refused to heal. He couldn’t delete it. He couldn’t let go, even though he already had.

Felix watched your Instagram, knowing you’d unfollowed him, but he still scrolled through your old posts, searching for pieces of the life you were living now. The last thing he wanted was to see you suffering because of him, but even the thought of you smiling without him sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

If Felix was drowning himself in work, you were drowning in everything else.

Your days blurred together—wake up, force yourself out of bed, put on a happy face for your friends. Nights were worse. They were quiet, and the emptiness left too much space for your thoughts.

You told yourself not to look. Don’t check his Instagram. Don’t search his name on Twitter. Don’t go down the rabbit hole of fancams and updates from the tour. But your resolve never lasted.

Every night, you found yourself scrolling through endless pictures and videos.

The first time you saw him on stage, glowing under the lights with that smile that had once been yours, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. You stared at the screen, taking in every detail—his expression, his energy, the way he interacted with fans. He looked happy.

But he wasn’t, was he? You knew that smile better than anyone. You could see the cracks if you looked hard enough.

“Y/N, you have to stop,” your best friend said one night, catching you mid-scroll. “This isn’t helping you.”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes and setting your phone down. But it didn’t stop. It was a habit you couldn’t break, a lifeline to the person who’d once been your everything.

You replayed your last moments with him over and over, the way he avoided your gaze when he said it was over. The way his voice broke when he told you that you deserved better.

Better.

You weren’t sure what that even meant anymore. All you knew was that you felt worse every day, no matter how hard you tried to rebuild your life.

Even hanging out with friends felt hollow. You laughed, you smiled, but your heart wasn’t in it.

Because no matter how far you tried to move on, a part of you was still stuck in that apartment, watching the love of your life walk away.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few months later, the tour was over. Months of grueling travel, sold-out arenas, and sleepless nights had finally come to an end. For the first time in what felt like forever, the members of Stray Kids stepped into the familiar comfort of home.

But for Felix, it didn’t feel like home.

The others were buzzing with excitement, already talking about their plans—family visits, long naps, or eating meals they’d missed during the tour. Felix stayed quiet, dragging his suitcase through the apartment like a ghost.

Chan noticed, of course. He always did.

“Hey, man,” he said softly as Felix sank onto the couch, staring at his phone. “You alright?”

Felix nodded without looking up. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Chan didn’t push, but his frown lingered. Felix hadn’t been the same since the breakup, and no amount of screaming fans or bright lights had been able to fix that.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You hadn’t noticed they were back.

You’d stopped checking their social media, stopped asking mutual friends about Felix, stopped torturing yourself with glimpses of a life you were no longer part of. It had taken months, but you’d learned to keep your distance. Deleting most of your social media apps had been the first step to begin healing from your pain.

It wasn’t that you didn’t miss them. You did. The boys had been like family to you at one point. But being around them would only open wounds that had barely started to close.

When your phone buzzed that afternoon, you hesitated before picking it up.

It was a text from Hyunjin.

Hyunjin: Hey, we’re back! I was thinking maybe we could grab coffee or something? I miss talking to you.

You stared at the message, your heart twisting. You wanted to respond, to say you missed him too. But you couldn’t.

You set your phone down and ignored it.

A few hours later, another text came through.

Chan: Hey, Y/N. Just wanted to let you know we’re home. Hope you’re doing okay. Let me know if you need anything.

This one was harder to ignore. Chan had always been like an older brother to you, someone you could count on no matter what. But replying meant opening a door you’d worked so hard to close.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Jeongin. You let it go to voicemail.

“Did she reply?” Hyunjin asked, leaning against the counter as Chan checked his phone.

Chan shook his head. “No. I don’t think she will.”

Jeongin frowned, flopping onto the couch. “It’s weird, isn’t it? She used to always be around. It’s like… she’s just gone now.”

“She needs space,” Seungmin said simply, though his tone carried an unspoken sadness.

Felix sat silently in the corner, his phone clutched in his hands. He hadn’t reached out—not yet. He knew you wouldn’t respond. Why would you? He was the reason everything had fallen apart.

“She’s doing what she needs to do,” Chan said, though even he looked unsure. “We can’t blame her for that.”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I feel like we lost her too, you know? Not just Felix. All of us.”

The room fell quiet, the weight of the unspoken truth settling over them like a heavy blanket.

Felix finally looked up, his voice barely above a whisper. “She deserves to be happy. Even if it’s without us.”

No one responded, but the silence said enough.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your friends had insisted you show up to this date, practically dragging you to the salon earlier that day. “You need this,” they said, their voices full of determination. “It’s time to move on.”

So, there you were, sitting across from a genuinely kind guy named Daniel at a fancy restaurant, your hair perfectly styled, makeup flawless, and a little black dress that had you feeling confident for the first time in months.

Daniel was sweet, polite, and easy to talk to. You learned he’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship too—his ex had left him, and while he was still nursing the sting of it, he was trying to move forward.

You bonded over heartbreak and the awkwardness of starting over. He made you laugh with his dry humor and clever commentary on the overly pretentious menu.

But as much as you liked him, something was missing. No spark. No butterflies. Just… nothing.

You were halfway through dessert, smiling politely as Daniel shared a story about his college days, when your phone buzzed on the table.

“Sorry,” you said, glancing at the screen. The number was unfamiliar, but something in your chest tightened. “I should take this.”

“Go ahead,” Daniel said, gesturing for you to answer.

You pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” a professional voice asked. “This is ASAN Medical Center. We have a patient named Lee Felix admitted earlier today. You’re listed as his emergency contact.”

Your heart dropped, the words hitting like a punch to the stomach. “What? Is he okay? What happened?”

“He’s stable, but we recommend you come in. We can explain more when you’re here.”

You nodded, even though they couldn’t see you. “I—I’ll be there.”

Hanging up, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Daniel’s concerned expression cut through your spiraling thoughts.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

You shook your head, grabbing your purse. “It’s… complicated. I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, smiling gently. “Family emergency?”

“Something like that,” you muttered, standing up. You reached for your wallet, but Daniel stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it. Just go.”

You hesitated, then gave him a small, apologetic smile. “Thank you. And… you’re a great guy, really. But I think we both know this isn’t meant to be.”

Daniel chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I felt that too. Go take care of your person.”

The phrase hit harder than it should have, but you didn’t have time to unpack it. You thanked him again and rushed out of the restaurant, your heels clicking loudly against the polished floors.

The taxi ride to the hospital was a blur. Your mind raced with questions, fears, and the nagging ache in your chest that you hadn’t been able to shake since the breakup.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The drive felt like it had taken hours, and by the time you reached the hospital, your hands were trembling, and you weren’t sure if it was from fear, anger, or something else entirely.

The fluorescent lights in the hospital hallways buzzed faintly as you followed the nurse toward Felix’s room. The air was sterile, cold, and too quiet, amplifying the pounding of your heart in your chest.

You felt like you might be sick. Every step felt heavier than the last, memories of Felix flooding your mind. The way he’d smile at you like you were his entire world. The way he’d whispered sweet promises  in the quiet of your shared moments. And the way he’d broken your heart when he told you he wasn’t good enough.

The nurse stopped outside a door, her face kind but indifferent. “He’s in here,” she said softly before stepping away.

You stood frozen, staring at the closed door. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and your stomach twisted painfully. Why am I even here? you thought. But you knew the answer—because even after everything, you cared. You always had, and probably always would.

After a moment of gathering your courage, you pushed the door open.

The sound of the door caught their attention immediately. Chan was seated in a plastic chair near the bed, arms crossed, while Felix was propped up against the pillows, pale and tired but unmistakably himself.

Both their heads whipped toward you.

“Y/N?” Felix’s voice was weak, his eyes wide with shock. “What are you doing here?”

“The hospital called,” you explained, still standing in the doorway. “They said you were admitted, and I’m… I’m still listed as your emergency contact.”

Chan frowned, standing up. “We didn’t expect—”

You cut him off, smiling softly, but clearly a little hurt. “I just… wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

Felix looked down, guilt flashing across his face. “I—sorry. I should’ve removed your name. That was selfish of me.”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, brushing his apology aside. “I just needed to know you were okay.”

His eyes flicked back to yours, scanning your face as if searching for something. “You look… good.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, thanks. I was kind of on a date.”

Felix froze, his expression crumbling before he masked it. “Oh. I—” He stumbled over his words, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for… interrupting your night.”

“It’s fine,” you said again, this time more curtly. “But now that I know you’re not alone, I’m probably going to go.”

You turned to leave, ignoring the tight feeling in your chest and the weight of Felix’s gaze on your back.

You were halfway down the hall when you heard someone call your name. Turning, you saw Chan jogging to catch up with you. His face was serious, his eyes tinged with urgency.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, stopping just in front of you.

“What, Chan?” you asked, your voice sharp, your emotions fraying. “What could you possibly want to say to me right now?”

He hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “Please. Don’t let him go.”

You blinked, his words not registering at first. “What?”

“You heard me,” Chan said, his voice quieter now, but no less urgent. “He misses you. I know he does. He’s been miserable this whole time, Y/N.”

Your stomach twisted. “Are you serious right now? He’s the one who ended things. He’s the one who said I deserved better. How can you ask me to fight for something he didn’t even want to fight for himself?”

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting you. But he’s realized how wrong he was. I’m begging you, just… talk to him. Please.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I don’t know if I can. You don’t understand how much it hurt, Chan. How much he hurt me.”

“I know,” Chan said softly. “And I’m sorry. But I also know Felix, and I know he loves you. He’s just scared. And if you walk away now, I don’t think he’ll ever forgive himself—or me—for letting you go.”

You hesitated, his words gnawing at the walls you’d built around your heart.

“Just talk to him,” Chan pleaded. “If nothing else, you deserve to say what you need to say. Please.”

After a long moment, you exhaled shakily. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect anything, Chan.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he said, relief washing over his face. “Thank you.”

With trembling hands and a storm of feelings swirling in your chest, you turned back toward Felix’s room, unsure if you were ready for what came next.

You stepped back into the room, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Felix looked up, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was startled, as if he hadn’t expected you to come back. Chan shot you a quick glance, then slipped out silently, leaving the two of you alone.

The door clicked shut, and the tension in the room was suffocating. You crossed your arms, standing by the door, unsure where to start.

“Why?” you finally said, your voice harsher than you intended. “Why now?”

Felix blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

You laughed bitterly, taking a few steps closer to the bed. “I mean, why are you doing this now? After months of silence, after breaking me into pieces and leaving me to pick them up on my own, why now? Why drag me back into this?”

He looked down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket draped over his lap. “I didn’t mean to drag you into anything,” he said quietly. “I didn’t even know they’d call you. But seeing you here…” He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “It just made me realize how much I miss you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You miss me? That’s rich, Felix. Where was that when I was crying myself to sleep every night? Where was that when I begged you to stay, when you left me?”

He flinched, your words hitting him like a slap. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret.

“The right thing?” you repeated, your voice rising. “The right thing would’ve been to fight for us! But instead, you gave up, Felix. You left me.”

His hands clenched the blanket, his knuckles white. “I know,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I thought I was protecting you. I thought you deserved someone who could give you more than I could.”

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me? How much it hurt to see you everywhere and know I wasn’t part of your life anymore?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I miss you, Y/N. I miss everything about you. And the thought of you with someone else…” He looked up at you, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It kills me.”

Your heart clenched, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You don’t get to say that, Felix. You don’t get to come back now, when I’ve finally started to put myself back together, and tell me you miss me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice desperate. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I can’t go another day without trying. I love you, Y/N. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

You looked away, his words cutting through your defenses. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me to even think about moving on?” you said, your voice trembling. “I was starting to feel okay again. And now you’re here, saying all of this, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Felix pushed himself up slightly, wincing but determined. “I know it’s unfair,” he said, his voice stronger now. “But I’m asking you to let me make it right. I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, but I swear I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. Just… please.”

Your chest heaved as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. Part of you wanted to walk out and never look back, to protect yourself from more heartbreak. But another part of you, the part that still loved him despite everything, wanted to stay.

“Do you mean it?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Do you really mean it this time?”

Felix’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “With everything I have.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and charged. Then, finally, you let out a shaky breath. “If we do this again,” you said, your voice firm, “you don’t get to run. No more deciding what’s best for me without talking to me first. We fight for it, no matter how hard it gets. Got it?”

A tear slipped down Felix’s cheek, but he smiled—a real, hopeful smile. “Got it.”

You sighed, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly. “Okay. Let’s try again.”

Felix reached for your hand, his touch warm and familiar. And for the first time in months, you let yourself hope.

You don’t end up going home that night, falling asleep in the hard plastic hospital chair, only waking up when the nurses knocked softly on the door to let you know that Felix was free to leave.

The two of you take a cab to your place, immediately crawling into your bed together, the memories held in your apartment no longer feeling like a crushing weight over you, but a reminder that the two of you can work it out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

masterlist.

[ughdontbeboring]

Sweet boy

Feyd Rautha x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Yours and Feyds son has a moment and you can’t help your reaction.

warnings none but fluff honestly lol

note: so this was NOT what I was supposed to be working on but I came across it in my notes and just couldn’t stop my fingers 😅 but this is inspired by one of my favorite Feyd arts of him as a child. I’m so upset I can’t find it or the artist. It’s like different drawings of him or his face as a child and he gives the meanest side eye lol so if yall know what im talking about please send it my way so i can tag the artist so others can see it.

If yall like it, love it or fucks with it please share and comment! I love talking to y’all about our mans.

I give no permission for my work to be used anywhere.

it’s fluff and short babe but it’s Feyd so you know 😭 @peggyao3 also again not what I’m supposed to be working on ����🥲🥲

x

x

⚔️

The day had been long and tedious but you would not trade it for anything when it dwindles down to become this kind of evening. One which you were lucky to say you had often when your husband wasn’t away for diplomatic purposes. Even then you usually all stayed together more often than not. 

The large tinted floor to ceiling windows on the right side of the dinning room allowing for a view of the planets setting white sun to shine its last bit of light on your blessed life. The tint allowed the room to stay bathed in all its natural colors. Your skins hue still vibrant against the elegant black dress that you had chosen for the day. 

You couldn’t wait to get back to your shared bedchambers and slip into nothing but your silk bed sheets and your husbands arms.

Your eyes drift back to the table you’re seated at with the two loves of your life. Years ago no one could have convinced you THIS would be your life and you’d be the HAPPIEST you’d ever been or could be. None of the of wise women of your home planet could have foretold this. Not even your own visions nor dreams could have conjured enough to convince you this was the life you wouldn’t only lead but love with every once of your being. 

But when you take in your husbands jewel blue eyes that are already watching and only soft for you, you smile happily before your eyes slowly land on the beautiful boy sitting before you and to Feyd’s right from the head of the table.  

And just as your heart swells with more love than either you and Feyd ever thought possible, a loud laugh erupts from deep within your chest. 

You slap a jeweled hand over your mouth to try and contain your laughing from the startled identical faces before you. 

You’re in a fit of giggles as you feel both your husband and son’s look of confusion and it only makes you laugh harder.

You miss your husband’s face of pure awe at the sight before him even if he is confused he can’t help but be in awe of the women he somehow convinced to love him as deeply as you do, full of joy.

You wipe at the tears that have started to spill as you catch Feyd soft questioning eyes.

“I-I’m sorry but he looked just like you with his little evil side eye” you reveal in between laughs. 

Feyd looks on proudly at your son who’s looking between the both of you with his face scrunched up not fully understanding or liking the attention and laughs at his expense. 

Your son had just gave the most evil side eye to the servant who put the extra vegetables on his plate at your request. And all you could see was Feyd. They looked almost identical already and in that moment it was your husband who was a 5 year old boy not wanting to eat the food before him. 

And for all the reasons in the world it made your heart happy. 

“Looking just like your father” you say again as you control your laughing. You can feel the pride rolling of off both of them. “A grumpy baby”. 

“What?!” Your husband yells in disbelief, the fork and meat hanging mid air the same time your son yells his own defense.

“Mother I AM NOT A BABY!” His little voice rages before you with no true anger. 

“Don’t raise your voice at your mother” Feyd scolds quickly.

Your all smiles though. This was all you ever needed. 

“Yes you are, you are my baby always” You tell him as you take in his little face, the beautiful child you both created. The best of both of you. 

He huffs and crosses his little arms across his chest. The angry face he’s trying to pull off is completely identical to his father’s. You could draw it in your sleep the amount of times you’ve seen it over the years.

“Come here” you call to him softly as you push your chair back slightly. 

“No” he says trying to stand his ground that he is not a baby.

“Do not tell your mother no” Feyd scolds again watching the two of you go back and forth with eyes full of love.  if your husband continues on this path and your sure he will, none of your children will ever tell you no or misbehave with you. Feyd has spoiled you almost rotten, your son has received the same attention from his father. The amount of times he’s done wrong and Feyd has come to his defense, you too but you always stress the he can’t be quick to anger.

He had nothing of yours physically expect for you spiced blue eyes, which you weren’t sure how long they last so blue without a constant exposure to spiced air. You were born to parents who were born to parents and so on and so on for as long as you could say who had been born to and live with spice exposure. It was literally apart of your blood. So it made you happy that was the one thing that couldn’t escape your son who spent most of his time on Giedi Prime. So it made you sad to think about the fact that he could loose it one day but you tried to make frequent enough trips to your home planet to help him keep his Fremen feature and traits. 

Feyd allowed him to be born on Arrakis much to a lot of displeasure from some of Giedi Prime. You just couldn’t see giving birth here and raising a child here almost full time, you needed your people, your culture to be apart of his life. Plus you both knew it was the only way for your son to be accepted, he needed to embrace both half’s of who he was if he was going to make a great change one day. Greater change than even you and Feyds union.

It was worth noting all of the people who were displeased with your birthing choice weren’t around anymore to speak on it. 

His personality? It was 60/40 usually, him always leaning towards his father’s ways of behavior especially right now. Right now he was 100% his father’s child. 

“Come here my sweet boy” you call again. 

“Mother I am not a sweet boy! I’m brave and scary” He says as he makes his way around the back of Feyd towards you, very slowly. The posture straight in his small body. 

You pull him in quickly once he is in arms reach. Your hands hold his little precious face gently as you plant kisses all over. You can feel his posture slowly start to loosen.

“Yes you are, you may not be sweet to others that is yet to be seen but you will always be sweet to your mother yes?” You ask softly as you stare into his deep eyes that mirror yours. 

You hear a small but confident “Yes, always Mother” as all the fight leaves him and he snuggles into your body embracing you back fully. His little arms reaching around your neck and squeezing tightly. Your eyes tear a little and you know it’s just your hormones. You have a couple weeks before your due it’s still been an emotional roller coaster everyday. 

You’re so wrapped up in your little boy in your arms you don’t notice your husband. Feyd is over the moon seeing his child get the love he never received. Seeing his wife who he adores more than anything loving their child, his child, a child that looks and acts just like him regardless of what he may have done wrong that day. Your love for him was unconditional. 

He loves to see you showering him with love and care even on his bad days when he’s throwing a tantrum. 

This was everything Feyd never knew he wanted and needed. 

He’d burn everything down to protect this, their little growing family. 

⚔️

[zigrethsnotebook]

How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?

Ford x Reader

words: 3,154

tags: sfw, hurt and comfort

a/n: this was the only note i made for myself before writing this: hnghnghng this is about moths now so yeah... enjoy:)

It's been a whole year. The twins are back from their sea adventure and the kids are staying with them for the summer again. You were on your way over to the shack. Stan had written you a letter, inviting you over. He said it'd be nice to catch up, tell you and the kids all about their time at sea and that way they wouldn't have to tell the stories twice.

The stories weren't the only thing you were excited for. Before they had left Stan had encouraged you to confess to Ford, insisting that his brother felt the same for you as you did for him. But when you told him he just went silent for way too long.

"Ford?" A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Please say something?" He looked into your eyes, his gaze blank and unreadable. "I'm sorry." The words felt like a dagger to your heart. "F-for what?" You at least wanted him to have the balls to say that he doesn't care for you. "I don't see a romantic relationship between us having a future. Especially with Stan and I going out to sea tomorrow. I'm sorry."

You just nodded, taking the words in. "...This didn’t ruin what we have, did it? Will we still be friends when you get back?" Your voice was small, afraid of his answer. "I'll always be your friend." A sigh of relief. The idea of him not being a part of your life had been the reason you didn’t want to confess to him in the first place. You only did it because Stan was so convincing that he reciprocated your feelings. Turns out you were both wrong.

You shook your head, breaking yourself out of the bad memory. After almost an entire year, you had come to terms with it. Now, you were just excited to see your friend again. Excited to have a normal conversation with him again.

Back in the shack the Family was preparing everything. The kids and Soos got the snacks and drinks ready while the Twins were busy starting the campfire. Stan watched as Ford poked around in the fire. He shook his head.

"I'll never understand it." Ford looked up at his brother. "I'll never understand how someone as smart as you could let go of the person who would have been the best thing in his life." Ford sighed. They had had this talk before.

It was pretty much the only thing they talked about the first week at sea. Stan would also bring it up anytime a night on the boat was too long and too quiet.

"We have nothing in common... That and our lifes are way too dangerous, I can't bring another person with me." He saw the disapproving look on Stan's face. "It's not like I have anything to offer. I've spent my whole life buried in books and research. I don't know how to be in a relationship."

Stan scoffed at that. "What are you talking about, Sixer? You're a catch! Times change, Nerds are the new Jocks. There's a reason I was the second choice for most of the babes we met." A bittersweet chuckle escaped Stan.

Ford sighed, focusing on the fire again. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I wanted to try again, I highly doubt that they're still single." Now that was something Stan couldn't counter. Mainly because it's something he hadn't even considered. You were so head-over-heels for Ford the last time you and Stan talked, it just didn’t seem likely that you'd go looking for someone else.

The kids and Soos came outside, carrying marshmallows, crackers, chocolate and Soda. Dipper was the first to sit down on one of the logs. "I can't wait to hear of all the creatures you found! It must have been awesome!"

"You bet!" Stan grinned at the boy. "But we won't start with the stories yet, someone is still missing." Ford looked at his brother suspiciously. "What are you talking about, Stanley?" At the same time Mabel's eyes widened. "Are you saying we get to see-" She was cut off as Stan stood up and called out your name, announcing your arrival.

You smiled sheepishly and greeted everyone. The kids were super excited to see you again and Mabel ran over to hug you. You hadn't realized how much you missed them. When she let go of you she practically dragged you over to the campfire. Stan, who was still standing, hugged you as well.

"It's good to see ya again, toots." You chuckled. "I missed you, too, Stan." You broke the hug and turned to Ford who made no effort to get up or anything along those lines. Instead, you just waved at him, but gave him the same fond smile you had shown the others. "The same goes for you, Ford."

Behind you, Stan frowned at his brother, obviously disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm he showed you. He quickly put on a smile as he addressed you again. "Please, take a seat! We were just about to begin with our stories."

You sat down between Stan and Soos, who just greeted you with a simple "Hey dude". You two had become friends over the course of the last year.

Soon everyone had prepared a stick with a marshmallow and held it over the fire while Stan told the most extravagant stories of their travels. You were glued to his every word, his storytelling being how you two became friends in the first place.

You were so engrossed in the stories that you didn’t notice the way Ford looked at you. He adored you. The way the warm light of the fire illuminated your features perfectly. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle with pure joy as Stan talked about heroically fighting off some beasts. Hell, he loved you.

This wasn't news to him, of course. Ford had known this for over a year. In fact, when you confessed your feelings for him, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, propose to you on the spot. But he didn’t. Because he felt like he wasn't enough.

Ford felt like he didn’t deserve happiness after almost ending the world and he knew that he would achieve it if he let himself be with you.

Back then, after you had left, Ford had told Stan about the whole thing, who took him by the shoulders and shook him, asking him if he was insane. The next day, when they were about to leave, you had stopped by to say goodbye to Stan, but refused to speak to Ford, politely making up a reason why you had to leave again.

It had crushed him. Ford wanted to sprint after you, turn you around and kiss you all dramatically like in the movies. But he didn’t. Because he had hurt you already and didn’t dare to make it even worse.

Which, of course, had made it worse anyway. The way you had parted ways meant that you were left all alone with a broken heart. And you couldn't even talk to your best friend about it because he was on the same boat as Ford.

But now, as Ford looked at you again, he felt all the feelings he had been trying to bury beneath the ocean floor bubble back up again.

"And that is how Ford and I defeated the mighty Kraken!" Stan was standing, his hands raised to the sky in triumph. All of you cheered and clapped your hands. It was so good to hear his gruff voice and exaggerated stories again. Although, you were more inclined to believe him this time.

The evening went on with more stories, smores and lots of laughter. You were so relieved to have them back in your life again, all four of them. You had missed them more than you realized.

Eventually, it turned late and the kids began to get sleepy. The fire had also died down. In a joined effort you all cleaned the place back up, bringing the rest of the snacks and drink back inside the shack.

After putting more things on the kitchen table for Stan and the kids to put away you went outside again to see if there was anything else to get. Soos came your way and you held the door open for him as you stepped outside.

Ford was still there. "That's everything. Soos took the last of it." You nodded. "Neat." You were about to step back inside again when you felt Ford's energy shift to a more energetic one. He pointed to the porch light.

"Look at that! That's a Tyria jacobaeae! I haven't seen one of these in ages. A beautiful creature, just look at the markings on its wings, the bright red color..." Ford looked at the moth in awe and when you stepped closer you realized why.

The little black and red creature truly was stunning. But if Ford hadn't pointed it out then you never would have noticed it. "It is really pretty. But there is no way I'm gonna remember a latin name for anything." You chuckled lightly as you said it.

Ford hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, it is more commonly known as the Cinnabar Moth. Cinnabar, like the mineral, of course, because of its striking color. It wards off predators, letting them know that they're toxic."

You instinctively took a step back and Ford chuckled at your reaction. "There is nothing for you to worry about unless you plan to eat the little guy." You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "Haha, no. Doesn't really fit my diet." Ford and you shared a laugh together.

Another, considerably larger, moth joined the other one at the lamp. This one was bright white and yellow with little black dots on its wings. Ford nodded knowingly as he spotted it. "Estigmene acrea. The Salt Marsh Moth. Very pretty, but did you know that these little guys aren't very well liked around here?"

Even though it was a rhetorical question you shook your head 'no' and sat down on the couch Stan kept on the porch, letting Ford lecture you. He quickly sat down next to you as he continued. "They feed on most crops which means that farmers have to be on the lookout for them around this time."

God, how you had missed this. Just hanging out with Ford, letting him tell you all about a subject he was passionate about was one of your favorite things in the world.

Your gaze shifted from the Moths in front of you to Ford's face as he kept on talking about the little creatures. You didn’t try to keep the look of adoration off your face as you watched him animatedly explain the differences in their wingspans.

Eventually, he noticed your staring and turned his eyes to you, stuttering his speech to a halt. You chuckled fondly. "How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?" He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You just have to open your eyes and learn to find beauty in the mundane. That way you won't ever be bored again." As if on its own your body leaned towards him. You quickly stopped yourself. He rejected you once, you didn’t need to go through that again. Ford hadn't noticed.

You forced your eyes away from his and toward the moths again with a sigh. "The only times I haven't felt any boredom were the days I spent with you last year." A tight feeling settled in your chest as you spoke the words, but you couldn't stop yourself. "And today, of course."

You tried to keep your tone casual, your voice light. Ford felt an ache in his heart. He wanted you to never be bored again, show you the world through his eyes. Show you how he saw you.

"Surely you weren't bored every day of this past year, right? I bet you went on at least one interesting date?" He tried to keep his tone equally casual. Tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Who'd wanna date me?" "I would." You froze. Surely you had misheard him? You turned to look at Ford again, his expression was... honest?

You frowned. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Ford." You stood and turned, about to walk away. Ford grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Who's laughing?" You pressed your eyes shut and stayed with your back to Ford, unable to look at him.

"I just got over you. Don't make me go through all of that again." Ford felt his heart shatter in his chest. "I am so sorry." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I was a selfish asshole. And you deserved so much better. You still deserve someone so much better than me."

Ford took a deep breath, still holding tightly onto your wrist. He couldn't let you go until you knew the truth. "I, on the other hand, don't deserve your forgiveness. Hell," A bitter laugh escaped him, "it took Stan a whole year to convince me that maybe I deserve to be happy sometimes at all, even though I almost caused the world to end."

He took a shaky breath, tears pricking at his eyes. But he wasn't done yet. "I spent the whole year regretting every word I said to you that day. Because... what I didn’t have the guts to tell you then is... I love you."

Ford stared at the back of your head, looking for any movement at all that could give away how you felt about his words. But you didn’t move for a moment, didn’t spare him a glance. Without a word, you flexed your arm and pulled hard, tearing your wrist from his grip.

You walked away from him and the shack without turning back. Ford was in shambles, his legs trembling and tears flowing freely. He wouldn't have been able to follow you.

Stan and the kids had watched the whole thing unfold from one of the windows, being attracted to the sudden noise like moths to the light. Now they stood shocked, with their jaws on the floor.

Back at home you threw your shoes and jacket in a corner before collapsing onto your bed. You were angry at Ford for treating you like that, playing with your emotions for over a year. Slowly, it settled in that Ford had just confessed his love to you.

After a year of thinking he didn’t want you that way, it left your emotions all over the place. Angry, sad and with a weird feeling of relief you cried yourself to sleep.

A soft knock to your window woke you up again. It was still dark outside. It was a big window that led to a balcony. You stepped in front of it and pulled the curtains back, revealing Ford. He looked like a kicked puppy, making it impossible for you to ignore him.

You opened the window and stepped outside to him. "What do you want, Ford?" He cringed at your harsh tone of voice. "I came to apologize... again. I know I hurt you. I know I behaved all wrong. And I'm sorry." He looked up into your eyes.

"I don't expect you to fall into my arms or anything like that. You're over me and that's fine. I won't try to win you back. I-I just wanted to be honest... but, maybe that made it worse again..." Ford shook his head, starting to pace around in front of you.

You took a deep breath. It was time to just let go of your anger and instead seize the moment while you had the chance. "Ford." He turned to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. "I'm not over you."

He took a step closer as you continued. "I thought I was. But everything that happened tonight... everything you said... I still love you." You locked eyes with him and you could see the relief flooding through him as he let out the breath he was holding.

Silence washed over the both of you, neither sure how to proceed. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable either.

The dull moonlight cast a blue hue over the both of you. You looked up at Ford's hair, admiring the way the light made it glow, when a little winged creature landed on his perfect hair. A smile crept on your face and you raised your eyebrow along with your hand to his hair.

Carefully, you held your hand out to the creature, offering your finger to sit on. Ford stayed quiet and you urged him not to move too much with one hand on his chest. The animal took your offer and when you felt every one of its six legs on your finger you brought your hand back down.

You held the little moth between you two. Its wings were light-blue with dark tips. Ford smiled at the creature. "Lomographa semiclarata or Bluish Spring Moth." He put one of his hands under yours, making you both hold it together.

"Did you know that in a more spiritual sense, moths often symbolize transformation and are generally considered as a good omen?" You looked up from the moth and smiled softly at him. "Is that so?" You let the hand you still held on his chest wander upwards to his neck.

Ford nodded lightly. "They represent positive conclusions." You let out a content breath, accidentally startling the moth into flight. Both of you followed the creature with your eyes. "...And sometimes death."

You laughed and lightly swatted him on the chest with your now free hand. "You better not die on me, Ford." He placed one of his hands on top of yours that was now on his chest and the other one on your waist, pulling you closer. "I wouldn't dare."

Ford slowly moved his face closer to yours, giving you plenty of time to back away in case you didn’t want what was about to happen. But why wouldn't you, this is the moment you spent an entire year dreaming about!

You let your eyes flutter shut and soon enough felt Ford's lips on yours. They were softer than you imagined, making you smile slightly into the kiss. You moved your lips against his in a way that felt just right. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.

Ford sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing and letting himself enjoy the moment. This was the kiss you would remember forever. Especially because he would immortalize it in his journal first thing tomorrow morning.

When you both parted you felt like you were floating. You rested your head on Ford's shoulder, just enjoying finally being able to hold him like this.

"Positive conclusion, indeed."

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Sensitive.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!reader

Words count: 1300 (more or less, I added something just before posting it)

Warning: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You make Frankie come just by playing with his nipples. That’s it, that’s the fic LOL

Tags: pov second person, reader has breasts, nipples and hair, no other description of her is given, pwp, nipples play (YAS we play with the man’s nipples wooo), ice cubes, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), established relationship, dick pronouns for @sp00kymulderr’s challenge, kissing, Frankie obviously has a huge cock, I think it’s all? Let me know if I missed something and I will add it right away.

A/N: I've been wanting to do this for a while now because I'm a big fan of nipples (gender neutral, folks, we don't discriminate here, I can love a variety of them) and those Pedro pics yesterday uhm…inspired me lol English is not my first language, I have no beta, any mistakes are my fault, I’m so very sorry 💀

I also did it because every time I use the translator to check my English, whenever I type something nipples related, the translator always uses she/her and it pisses me off.

I hope it's not cringe, if it sucks pretend you've never read it, please, I love you all bye.

I started a tag list, let me know if you want to be added, thanks so much!

Frankie has sensitive nipples.

You discovered this by accident, while you were in bed together after he had fucked you like a god. Your hand wandered over his chest and brushed against his areola. Frankie fidgeted, tried not to show it but the involuntary flinching of his body spoke for him.

He kissed you right after just before you could ask anything so you didn’t investigate any further but you were so intrigued by it. You kept thinking about the way he squirmed under your touch for days and craved to do something more for him.

You have a thing for nipples. For his especially.

Both because you love him and because they are delicious. You also don't like the fact that yours get all the attention while his have always remained two neglected little buttons on his chest while you’re pretty sure you could make good use of them.

Tonight is the time to change that, at least to try.

As you kiss on your couch his hands instantly fly to your tits, he massages them, squeezes them and as much as what he's doing drives you crazy you keep thinking that you would like to do something for him.

“Frankie” you breathe between kisses and he whispers on your lips “what, honey?”

“Nothing… it’s just…”

“What?” he interrupts you “did I do something wrong?”

You smile in front of his worried eyes “no, you’re perfect, really. I just…” you hesitate but in the end you spit it out “I would love to try something new”

Frankie smirks under his mustache “uh, what’s in that scrumptious little head of yours?”

You giggle, feeling your courage grow as you slowly run a hand over his chest still covered by his shirt, starting from his neck, down his collarbones and then his pectorals.

“I would like… uhm… I would like to play a little game”

Frankie’s eyes sparkle with curiosity mixed with excitement “you know I like games”

“Okay, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, baby” he says right away, brushing your arm gently and looking you sweetly in the eyes.

“Let’s go to bedroom then”

You stop in the kitchen to get some ice cubes that you put in a glass as he watches you, still confused but definitely aroused “What are those for?”

“You'll find out soon enough” you take him by the hand grinning, lead him towards your room which has now become yours and you have him stand in front of the bed.

“Take off your shirt” you order him “and your jeans”

“I already like that,” he chuckles.

“Lie down,” you tell him soon after, playfully pressing a hand to the center of his chest.

You place the glass on the bedside table and undress, remaining only in your underwear while he cranes his neck to look at you and licks his lips full of anticipation.

“My favorite view…” he whispers and you giggle, crouching on the bed right next to him “Now listen to me, you can’t touch me but I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Frankie sighs “okay”

“Can you behave for me?” you raise an eyebrow watching him ironically.

Frankie lets out a more convinced “yes” and you praise him “such a good boy for me”

You brush your fingertips over his chest again, going down over his sternum, then over his stomach and belly, stroking the thin strip of hair that disappears into his boxers. "I think he'll like this," you whisper, watching his half-erection rose from beneath the fabric.

“He’s looking forward to it” he nods with a crooked smile.

Of course he expects you to touch him right there, but your hand goes back up letting a little protest leave his lips.

You stop on one of his nipples and your fingers graze all around the areola.

Frankie squirms, widening his eyes, mouth agape “oh fuck, is that what you want to do?”

You purr “exactly. Can I go on?”

Frankie swallows air, his Adam's apple pops in his throat, then murmurs, “Go ahead.”

“Shall we bet he will come untouched?” You suggest.

“We’ll see. Don’t make him wait further, gorgeous, do your thing” he urges you.

You begin to caress his skin, moving closer and closer, Frankie watches you mesmerized as you feel his body tense under your fingers.

You rub his areola again and then pinch his nipple. He gasps loudly “Oh fuck”

“Everything okay?” You murmur.

He frowns noticeably and nudges “yes.”

You alternate between pinching and rubbing, feeling his breathing get heavy and shorter as his cock swells under his boxers. You shift only long enough to pull them down and expose his huge engorged dick to your view.

“So much better” you purr “I need to see him”

You return to your seat beside him and remove your bra, smiling mischievously at him. Frankie tries to raise his hand to reach out to feel you but you rebuke him, " Hey, no! You can look, but don't touch, remember?”

He blurts out, “That's not fair,” and you chuckle, “I feel like he's doing just fine anyway. The best boy," you tease him.

You take an ice cube and pass it over your lips, you suck on it lightly and small drops of water slide down your chin, you place it back into the glass as Frankie lets out a needy moan. His pupils are dilated and his lower lip quivers slightly, he is absolutely delicious.

You reach down and your nipples brush against him, “You can feel them like that, can't you?”

He sighs “yeah…okay”

You stick your cold tongue out and run it over his and he groans “oh baby”

You eye his cock rise higher and higher until it comes flapping against his tummy, hard and swollen and its pre cum begins to drip from the tip along its length.

Your tongue circles his nipple, again and again, then you flick it and you nibble it lightly and Frankie's back arches as he gasps, "Holy fuck, baby, you're killing me."

Your mouth and ice-cold lips stir all his nerve endings just as you expected.

You smile pleasantly impressed against his skin ”you like that, huh?”

“God, yes” he breathes “fuck”

He groans loudly when you detached, taking an ice cube again and sucking it between your lips, then lean over his chest to reach the other nipple as you continue to rub the other with your fingertips.

His chest rises and falls faster and faster as your tongue strikes sharply and precisely, your other hand resting on his arm to steady you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop please I’m so close” he whimpers “fuck - just like that baby”

You continue until his cock is on the verge of bursting, then you move your hand to take it and finish him off.

“Come for me, Frankie, come on” you urge him “Give it all to me, baby” just like he does every time he’s in control and his response is immediate, he comes in your palm after a few strokes, long streaks of sticky cum painting your hands and his tummy as he whines.

You get between his legs to suck him clean, welcoming his cock between your lips and giving him what he wanted from the beginning after what he didn’t know he needed.

You suck him until he softens and then you lie in his arms, quietly enjoying his warmth. He is the first to break the silence, after kissing your nose and your forehead "damn, baby, you knocked me out"

You lift your gaze to his and smile "you didn't imagine that huh?"

"He didn't imagine it either," Frankie laughs.

"I told you he would like it" Frankie caresses your cheek and you reach out to kiss him, his taste still on your lips. "next time you play with mine while I play with yours" you coo.

He retorts, “just give me some time to rest and I’ll show you right away”

Thank for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away ♥️

[ameliathornromance]

“This is Hell.” You groaned to yourself. Curled up under the bedsheets of your shared tent, you lay, with your arms clasped firmly around your lower stomach in the fetus position.

It was the only way your period cramps would stop… sometimes. And today, was not a ‘sometimes’ day.

You thought, God forbid, for a moment before you came on, that you were spared one month of this. But of course, the usual fears came into play – could you be pregnant?

And after determining that there was no way you could be, you thought that this might just be a month where you missed your period.

It was joyous for you. You felt like you could frolic in a field, hair flying in a warm breeze as you hop, skipped and jumped. Right up until you woke up this morning with the worst cramps of the whole of your menstrual life.

You had been in bed the whole day because of them. Your Orc boyfriend had done his best to comfort you when you woke up, but unfortunately, none of his reassurances or soothing back rubs could quell the pain of your uterus taking revenge for your fantasies of one month without a period.

When it was clear that his efforts were doing nothing to sooth the pain, he sighed. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get for you?” your boyfriend asked, feeling completely powerless to the machinations of your body.

You groaned, sarcastically, “you could get your hands on some chocolate for me.”

Chocolate was a rare thing for people of your social standing to afford. It was only given to the richest of people and you had only tasted it once while you were working in a Nobles house for a brief moment.

Right now, the idea of that velvety sweetness gracing your lips was all you could think about right now.

Your Orc, who could sense that you were not in the best of moods, grunted and stood. “I’ll see what I can do.”

You felt guilty asking for it in such a tone. It’s not like your boyfriend had done anything to deserve your sardonic attitude. He was only trying to help.

After that, you hadn’t seen or heard from him for the rest of the day. Your hormonal brain had convinced you that he had abandoned you for how you treated him and sent you into a fit of tears.

Which is why when he came back, you were surprised to see him grinning from ear to ear.

But at the sight of your tears, his expression fell. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Your Orc rushed over and placed what he was holding on your bedside table.

You sniffled and dried up your tears using your sleeve as you apologised, “I-I’m sorry for being horrible earlier,” you sniffed, “I didn’t mean it, I’m in a lot of pain so please don’t leave me alone!”

Your Orc let out a sigh of relief to your surprise and smiled at you, “honey it’s okay. I know this time is really tough for you, I get it.” He picks up what he left on the bedside table and held out a steaming towel to you. “Here for your cramps.”

Taking the towel, you wrapped it around your stomach and the clenching pain of your abdomen ceased instantly.

More tears began to run down your cheeks as your Orc cupped your face in his hands, “oh I’m so sorry sweetheart, if I’d known it hurt that bad, I’d have been quicker about coming back.”

You shook your head, just grateful for him to be there.

“And, I know you said it with a hint of sarcasm, but I found some anyway.” He held out a small box to you.

You stared at it, taking it from him.

The box was gold and held together with a silky black ribbon tied into a bow, with a tag that had some random mans name scrawled on it in cursive.

Tugging on the ribbon, the bow collapsed and allowed you to open the top of the box. Inside, wrapped in small, individual shiny pieces of paper, was chocolate.

If you were crying before, you were now sobbing. “I… I don’t deserve you.” You said, tearfully. “You’re too good for me.”

Shaking his head, your Orc dried your tears with his thumbs, “that’s nonsense. We all have tough days, okay?” Placing a kiss on your forehead, he made you look at him. “And I’m not going to go anywhere. I promise.”

I have a seven day free trial on my Patreon! Sign up to gain early access to all my work before it comes out for free on Tumblr!

Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[mingkismain]

Detective Kim - hongjoong x reader

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an; finally got inspo to write again!

hongjoong x fem!reader

genre; smut, pwp

word count; 4,091

warnings/tags; pwp, piv, unprotected sex (as i always say don't do that), sort of meandom!hongjoong (SORT OF), non-idol!au, little bit of choking, quite literally one (1) ass slap, lil bit of degradation, pet names (babe, baby), creampie, overstimulation, if i missed anything lmk <3

MDNI - smut under cut

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it wasn’t unusual for you to have to bring in a body during night shift, but a double homicide was definitely a little weird.

You’d been working for the county coroner for about three years now, and in that time you had only had one other double homicide, and that one was on your very first night shift.

You could’ve sworn this one only came in because your coworker made the mistake of wishing you a slow shift, ultimately cursing you to a nightmarish shift. While it wasn’t as bad as you thought, the scene where the bodies were found was about 30 minutes from your office, which meant this trip would take at least an hour, which meant you lost at least an hour of possible sleep.

Great.

“I’ll make sure to wish him a slow shift next time he’s on nights,” you grumbled to yourself as you loaded up the coroner van. As soon as you were done checking the stretchers and making sure you had enough gloves and body bags (plus your camera), you pulled out of the garage and made your way to the scene.

When you arrived, local and state police were already there waiting for you, Detective Kim walking up to your van to greet you.

“Ah, so good to see you!, sorry it’s under these circumstances, but always a pleasure to see you,” Detective Kim stuck his hand out for you to shake.

You smiled, “hi Hongjoong, yes sorry I have to see you here too, we always seem to meet at the worst times!” You tried to keep the mood as light as you could, as the unknown of the scene inside was starting to make you nervous. “What do we have here?” You hopped out of the van, grabbing your camera and some gloves, walking with Hongjoong to the front door of the scene. It appeared to have happened inside a townhouse.

He kept up with you, pausing so you could capture your photos as you two walked, “so apparently there was a 911 call made by a neighbor, they had heard a lot of banging coming from this unit and it was originally a noise complaint. While the person was on the phone with dispatch, they said they heard gunshots. We’re still figuring out the details, but we needed you to come in and do your work before we started ours.” Once you two had made your way to the first line of crime scene tape, you were met with a policeman holding a sheet of paper.

“Before you two go in, sign this please.” He held the clipboard out in front of you, it had the scene log on it. “Make sure we know who is coming in and out of here. We don’t know what happened yet, but better safe than sorry.” You and Hongjoong nodded and each signed your names and what departments you two worked for. You then snapped a shot of the scene log for your own evidence folder.

You continued to talk to Hongjoong as you made your way through the front door, snapping more photos as you moved inside, “so they heard gunshots, anything else? And where are the bodies?” You moved to the living room, finding bloody footprints, snapping a photo with your scale and being careful to not step on them.

“The local police are still gathering their witness statements, so I really don’t know what else they heard. But I think it was a couple, a male and a female. I think the man was dealing with some shady people, then his girl got caught up in it. Oh, and the bodies are upstairs. Whenever you’re done down here we can go up to the bedroom.” He trailed behind you, watching as you photographed from the living room to the kitchen, eventually going to the stairs.

Once you made your way to the stairs, you started to notice bullet holes and marks in the walls leading up to the hallway. You grabbed some photos of those as you continued up the stairs, “Joong, which bedroom are they in?”

His ears perked up at the little nickname, people rarely used it on him but whenever you said it, he would feel his face flush. He cleared his throat, “go up the hallway, second door on your left. I’ll be right behind you.” You nodded and continued up as you photographed the hallway upstairs, finding even more bullet holes and a couple of shell casings. As you entered the bedroom, you saw the two bodies, the woman was in bed, the man was face down on the floor.

Hongjoong stood behind you, “Jesus.”

You turned around, brows furrowed, “have you not been up here yet??”

“No, I seriously was waiting for you! I didn’t want you yelling at me if I touched anything! I remember how you were on that suicide scene not too long ago!”

You huffed, “well thank you for not touching anything, but are the weapons secured? Do we even know if this guy had a gun? Has anyone done ANYTHING prior to my arrival???”

He stifled a laugh, “yes, the cops secured the scene for you, they have the gun in an evidence bag downstairs, but we can give you a description and everything when we’re heading down again. And don’t worry, we took our own photos before we moved the gun.”

“Thank you, remind me when we go down please.” You began to move into the room, being mindful of where your feet were placed.

The room wasn’t a bloodbath, but it certainly wasn’t spotless. You started with the man, as he was closer to the door. He was lying face down, feet closer to the door. It looked as if he had been running. You took photos of him as is before getting up close. Once you finished with overall shots, you put your gloves on and began to move the body, turning him over so you could get a clear shot of his face. It looked as if he had been shot in the back of the head, with the exit wound dead center of his forehead. You opened his eyes to check for other injuries, and to document in your photos. As you moved him so he was now on his back, you found more wounds scattered throughout his torso.

“Oh my god, Doc is gonna have a field day with this guy,” you snapped photos of every single bullet wound. Some had exit wounds, but a few did not, which meant your coroner was going to have to search for the bullets during the autopsy.

Once you were done with the man, you moved to the woman in the bed. She seemed to have a less painful demise, as she only had two bullet wounds. One straight to the heart, and one slightly to the left of the kill shot.

As you continued to move the body so you could clearly assess her, Hongjoong stood by the door, “what’s it looking like?”

You stood at the foot of the bed, taking more pictures of the woman, “looks like he was the one in the altercation. I think she may have woken up, but whoever was chasing this guy must’ve gotten her pretty quickly. She only has two wounds, and I think he’s got at least a dozen holes in him.” You turned around to face him, “can you come back downstairs with me? I need to get my body bags and stretcher out of the van.” He nodded and followed you down. You handed him the two bags you brought and went around the back to grab your stretcher. Since there was only one and both the decedents were relatively small in weight, you could fit both of them on the one stretcher and call it a day.

Before you went back inside, you found some of the local cops. “Listen, I need some big strong men to help me with these people in this house. How many of you want to have the honor of helping lil’ ol’ me?” You batted your lashes at the cops.

Don’t ask what sexism can’t do for you, but what it CAN help you with. You damn well were not about to haul two bodies down some stairs on your own.

Hearing that you needed strong men made them start puffing their chests, one out of the group piped up, “sure doll, me and Chris here can give you a hand. Do you have extra gloves?” He grabbed his buddy by the vest, volunteering him to help with the dead.

You put on a big fake smile, “of course I do! Here, take these and let’s go!”

They followed you into the house, Hongjoong behind them with the body bags still. He had watched you with the cops and may have started ruminating on it. He was a strong guy, right? He alone could’ve helped you with the bodies? What the fuck?

Pushing those thoughts to the side, he stood in the doorway again, watching you and the cops handle the bodies into their bags. Once everyone was zipped in, you and one cop handled a body down the stairs, while Hongjoong and the other cop carried the other bag behind you two. Once they were loaded onto the stretcher, you got them into the van, closing the door behind you. Before you got on your way, you gave the cops your work email so they could send you photos of the gun from earlier.

You thanked the cops and sent them on their way, Hongjoong hung out by your van for a second, “I’ll meet you back at your office.”

“What? Why?”

He huffed, “because you aren’t going to be able to move two bodies on your own that’s why!”

“They’re both pretty light Joong, it's fine, really. You probably have other cases sitting on your desk—”

He sighed your name out, “seriously, quit it, I’m not changing my mind. Plus, I really don’t wanna go back to the office yet. I’ll meet you at YOUR office in a bit. Drive safe.”

“You too.” You spoke as he walked off, you hopped back into your van, plugging your directions in.

While on your drive you contemplated why Hongjoong’s mood had shifted towards the end of the scene. Sure you had only known him for two years, but that felt like enough time together to know that tonight was a little strange.

“Maybe he’s dealing with shit outside of work,” You thought out loud. Maybe the bodies in the back would perk up with some advice.

Unfortunately, neither the dead nor the living had anything insightful to say as you pulled back into your office garage, Hongjoong already in a parking spot out front. Once he saw you parking, he made his way to the garage door. He barely said a word as you got the stretcher out of the back.

“Where do you want it?”

Your eyebrows raised, “huh?? Oh, the bodies. Um, put them over there for now, I have to get their weights, but I need to put them on separate tables for that.” You shook your head. The fuck? He knew what he was doing phrasing it like that.

He literally does NOT, you just haven’t been laid in ages. Wake up.

While you busied yourself with the toe tags, Hongjoong made his way over to you, leaning in to see what you were writing down. He was so close you could smell the cologne on him, it’s amazing that after a scene as gross as that one and now being in the morgue with more dead bodies mere feet away, he still smelled so delicious. It took a lot of willpower for your hand to steady as you finished with the last tag, turning around and nearly bumping into him with how in your space he had gotten.

“Sorry hon, was just curious. I don’t get to see this side of the investigation too much,” he moved out of your way so you could go place the toe tags with their respective bodies.

Was it a full moon tonight? Why am I sweating when this morgue is literally 50ºF. I hate it here.

As you finished with the toe tags, you moved to grab the storage trays out of the freezer for the bodies. You figured you could weigh one of them on the stretcher and the other on the tray, then move them both to trays for storage until autopsy. You motioned for Hongjoong, “Joong, come give me a hand please?”

This time there was no hiding the flush to his face as he walked towards you; though he could blame it on how cold this damn place was. Regardless, he made his way over, helping you weigh the bodies. Once all that was done, you rolled them into storage, shutting the door and double checking that it was locked. You sighed as you headed back to the van to collect your camera so you could upload your photos and hopefully sleep the rest of your shift.

Unfortunately (or maybe not?) Hongjoong followed you to your desk inside.

“I thought you were just going to help with the bodies?” You unloaded your camera bag as he rolled up an office chair next to yours.

He took off his coat, putting it on the back of his chair, “yeah, but now I want to see your pictures. Crime scene rarely shares with the detectives. I don’t know why, but they’re so weird. It’s like a little cult over there, they never wanna give us anything even though it’s usually OUR cases they’re helping with.”

You let out a small sigh, “alright, fine. You can look at mine, but I’m kicking you out after that. You’re cutting into my sleeping time.”

He laughed, “listen, I’m cutting into my OWN sleep time, but I get lonely at the office, it’s different from here.”

You focused on your screen, beginning to label all your photos in numerical order. “What do you mean?”

He leaned in, looking as you labeled, “oh wow you’re great at this. It’s just different. Here you’re on your own sort of, it’s only you on night shift, not a lot of overhead really, it’s comfier. At my office it has the same vibes as a fraternity house sometimes. There’s more than one person each shift, and everyone is fighting for the same promotion most times, so you really don’t know who you can trust. It sucks most days, but I love the actual work I do.”

You blushed at his quick compliment about your photos, the day you can take a compliment normally is the day your praise kink dies. Regardless, you continue to listen to him vent about his office as you catalog your work. By the time he was done ranting, you had finished with your photos, Hongjoong leaning over your shoulder the entire time you were working, eventually moving so close to your screen that your heads were lined up next to each other. But you blamed the closeness on him manually zooming in instead of waiting for you to do it on the computer. Now that you were done with labeling, you could spend more time looking at the pictures with him. He never moved his head, if anything he got even closer to you, putting the hand that was originally resting on the back of your chair, now resting on your shoulders. He stood out of his chair in favor of practically leaning over you.

You tried to crack a joke, “Joong, I think you need glasses, you’re so close you’re going to fall into my screen,” you let out a nervous laugh as you both turned your heads to each other. The eye contact you were now holding made your body temperature skyrocket.

He continued to hold eye contact, breaking for a second to look at your lips, “Sorry doll, I didn’t want to bother you too much and ask you to zoom in on every single picture.”

You thought about how he said doll, then it hit you, “is that what this attitude change was caused by?? Because I asked some stupid local cops to help me move BODIES? You cannot be serious right now Hongjoong.” You were still technically under him in your desk chair, yelling up into his face. He gave it right back to you, one hand moving to your upper thigh, giving it a squeeze, “yeah that’s what this was about! Why were you flirting with the cops? You didn’t need to do that and you know I would’ve been able to help you with the bodies myself!”

The hand on your thigh did little to distract you, “oh my god you and your fragile ego! We would’ve dropped the fucking bodies had it just been us two! Don’t read into it too much! The flirting meant jack shit!”

He sighed heavily, the hand on the back of your chair moving to your chin, pulling you in for a rough kiss. Pulling away, he said, “it didn’t feel like jack shit to me, do you do that on all your scenes?” He lifted you out of your chair, dropping you onto your desk, going back in for a heavier kiss. “Whore yourself around so the men can do the heavy lifting? I wonder what else you offer so they can do your dirty work,” He pulled you into him by your waist, a hand snaking up to the back of your head, pulling your hair so you would look at him. You bit back a moan, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing how hot you were getting.

He gave your hair another tug, “answer me pretty girl. Do you act like that at all your scenes or just when you know I’ll be around?”

You tried to even out your heavy breathing, looking into his eyes, “I do it on most scenes, regardless of if you’re there or not. It’s not my fault you can’t handle it.” His grip in your hair loosened, you thought this would be the end of it.

Clearly you were wrong.

He tilted his head and smirked at you, pulling you off of the desk in favor of bending you over it.

Thank god this office didn’t have any fucking cameras.

You braced yourself with your arms but not for long, you heard movement behind your back before your arms were taken out from under you. Hongjoong had taken his belt and secured your arms behind you with it. He then moved to unfasten your pants, dropping them along with his. He bent over you so he could whisper in your ear as his hand snaked down to play with your already throbbing clit over your panties.

“We’ll see who can handle what. I don’t think those other cops ever get to see you like this.” You turned your head away from him, trying to hide the fact that he was making you feel fucking amazing, but he was having none of that. Instead of going for your hair again, he brought the hand that wasn’t on your clit to your neck, grabbing you tightly, making you arch off the desk. As he brought you up to him, a moan escaped you and it immediately drove Hongjoong up a fucking wall.

“Aw see baby, you can’t hide from me, I know what you like. It’s too easy,” he emphasized ‘easy’ with a stronger hold on your neck, making your vision fuzzy for only a moment before fully dropping his hand in favor of going to rip your underwear off. He brought you back down to the desk with a huff, getting rid of his underwear in the process.

He took his cock out and began to line himself up with your entrance, you only wish you could’ve seen his face when he finally slid into you, but you were too busy squeezing your eyes shut. You could hear him let out a shaky moan, “jesus fuck you feel so good, it’s a wonder we didn’t do this sooner,” you gasped as he bottomed out inside of you, even though you didn’t get a chance to see his cock, he felt heavy inside of you, thick and long, practically touching your cervix.

Once Hongjoong felt you were adjusted to him he began to pound into you, moving you up and down the desk. He held onto your still secured arms for leverage, grunting into your ear as he did so.

Leaning down to bite your ear, he growled at you, “say it.”

In your nearly fucked out state, you had no idea what he was talking about. “What?” You managed to get out through several moans.

He repeated himself, bringing a hand to slap your ass as he did, “say it. Tell me you’re a whore. My whore.”

At the mention of him calling you his whore you swore you could’ve flooded the office, you felt yourself tighten around him as he said it. Earning another, rather loud, moan out of him.

Through broken whimpers and moans, you managed to say it, “yes, fuck yes! I’m yours Hongjoong,” you let out another particularly loud moan, practically drooling onto your desk, “your dumb whore.” You were pretty sure you came as you said that, body feeling a little more weak and a lot more sensitive, but he continued to fuck you through it, bringing you to that sweet spot of overstimulation.

Hongjoong must’ve felt it too, he leaned down to leave a kiss on your shoulder, “aw what’s the matter baby? Haven’t been touched in so long it only takes a couple hits to get you there? Don’t worry, I’m close too.”

He in fact was not close.

He continued to pound into you, switching up from fast and hard to slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, it was torturous at this point. He was driving you crazy, you felt like you were close again, he made it even worse by bringing his hand back down to your clit to rub it again, harder and faster than before, making your legs shake so badly. You were beginning to get so overwhelmed by all the pleasure, you could feel tears running down your face, landing on your desk. You were sure you were going to pass out if he didn’t cum soon, the pleasure beginning to make you feel lightheaded.

You could hear Hongjoong’s groans and moans getting louder behind you. He reached down to undo the belt from your hands, freeing you to brace yourself on your desk again. You pushed yourself up, arching your back and making him fuck you from a slightly new angle, sending you both right to the edge.

He bit your shoulder and moaned loudly, “baby, babe I’m close, so close, where do you want it?”

You shivered at his words, reaching back to grab his hair, “inside—haah—fuck inside please!”

He moaned and cursed your name, “fuck, fuck! coming, oh my god i’m gonna—” he groaned as he released inside you, triggering you to come again, legs practically giving out underneath you. Hongjoong felt you slipping and held your hips up while you both rode your highs out. Once your both caught your breath, he pulled out of you, making you both shudder as he did so.

As you turned around to redress yourself, he was doing the same, he reached down to you and gave you a deep kiss, but this one was softer than the earlier ones. Once you both were redressed, your work phone rang.

You groaned, answering the phone, “coroner’s office. Huh? Uh huh.” Hongjoong stood close by, trying to listen in, “alright, where are you? Do you have a name? No? Alright, do you at least have race and sex? Weight? Rough estimate is fine. Alright. I’ll be out in under an hour. And what was your name? Got it. See ya.” You hung up the phone, scribbling the last bit of info down.

Hongjoong spoke up, “what was that about?”

You reached for your jacket that read ‘coroner’ on the back, “another death, apparently this one was a suicide. I think it’s in your jurisdiction if you wanna come out with me.”

He followed your lead, reaching for his jacket, “I guess aftercare will have to wait till later huh.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

this was also crossposted to my ao3 :3

please do not repost or translate my work

[dwaekkicidal]

Felix at 12:59AM (0:59)

[original ask] no warnings <3 just a slice of life drabble with roommate & crush! felix

Felix is just walking in the door. Him and his friends just finished their 10 hour study session at the local library, the upcoming finals finally pushing them to dedicate some time and effort into studying.

He almost invited you, wanting to not only spend time with you but also not wanting to leave you alone in the apartment for so long considering you both were codependent with each other. But his little crush on you made him too nervous to ask, so he instead texted you during every single break. During the last two breaks, you had stopped responding despite your messages coming in as "read," and his heart ached at the thought that you were possibly upset with him.

But once he walked into the living room and placed his bags down on the kitchen island, all those worries went away. You were snuggled up in his blanket- the one he always left on the couch just in case you got cold- and your cheek was smooshed against the cushion of the couch as you breathed shallowly.

His heart skipped a beat as he noticed your phone in your hand slightly slipping out of your loose grip. His text messages are open on the screen.

He smiles to himself and rushes to his room, quickly showering and putting on his pajamas before quietly jogging back into the living room. The hunger he felt earlier is long forgotten as he slots himself between you and the back cushions of the couch, sliding under the blanket and cuddling up to you.

It wasn't abnormal- Felix was a very touchy person, and you were a very touch starved person- so the two of you fit like perfect puzzle pieces. Yet, it still woke you up slightly, the familiar warmth catching your attention as well as the happy giggles and shakes of the boy behind you.

"Lixie..?"

"Hai..." He nuzzles against your ear, deep voice making you shiver slightly until he tugged you unimaginably closer and hugged you to his chest. "Sorry for waking you, but I wasn't gonna let this chance slip by."

You giggle in response and lightly toss your phone onto the coffee table. Once you lay back again, you instantly melt into his embrace and sigh happily at the affection. "Missed me?" You chuckle and nod softly, "Always..."

Felix's heart skips a few beats and he smiles down at you, eyes in the shape of crescents as they trace over your features in the dark. "It's ok, I missed you too~"

"I can go with you guys next time if you're okay with it... " Your voice comes out quiet and he can hear the uneasy shyness in your voice. If only you knew how giddy it got him in reality.

"I'll forever be okay with it. I always want you by my side... Don't be afraid to ask me anything, especially if it's about spending time with me, okay?"

He can vaguely see the sides of your cheeks poke out from your smile and he hugs you tighter, knowing his heart made the right decision in falling in love with you.

"Sleepy time?" He hums in response, nose nuzzles into the back of your ear as he gets comfortable. He almost has half the mind to place a kiss on your hairline, it's mere inches from where his lips are. But... he thinks he'll save that for another, more romantic time.

"Sleepy time."

Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

@aeri-skzver

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

Hello, have you also been struck with an inane desire to kiss the CoD boys? Did the brainrot demon whisper in your ear “go fuck the masked man, the mustache man, and the Scottish man?” Well you’re in luck. My sleep deprivation vomited this out last night, I did not check for errors and I have NOT played MW. Sorry to all the Gaz fans out there, I genuinely forgot to include him. Sometimes you just gotta purge the fic poltergeists in your brain. I’m sorry. John up next when the demon returns.

All for One, One for All

Part 2 here

TW: NSFW, MDNI, fem reader. I’m bad at tags, sorry.

Down time with the 141 was always a grab bag. If a mission went well it was celebratory, others were solemn. Either way, the group was comfortable enough to have a … physical connection with each other. Hugs and words of comfort common after missions. Hands through hair as you all shared stresses together. But while everyone had a baseline comfortability, as the newbie, you lost out on some of the camaraderie, some of the closeness. It drove you fucking insane.

That’s why you were barely holding it together as Soap and you were close on the couch in the break room, legs tangled as you talked about everything and nothing. The recent mission, what they were doing on leave, cute new recruits. He was always the easiest to talk to, decompress with. Quick to anxieties with, as well as who you both had … predilections to. A master of weaseling his way into talking about your respective secret desires. Like how he had been spending spare time with Ghost on off days. How you couldn’t keep eye contact with your Captain.

Missions were different, there were tasks at hand and jobs to do. But with Price, his hands comforting, ready to protect seemed to linger between you and him, longer than others. Yet you couldn’t keep conversations longer than a few minutes when you debriefed in meetings. Too much perception, you felt like dissolving when his attention was on you too long. You kept the intensity of how much you wanted your Captain to yourself though. You wonder how Soap did it with your Lieutenant. You picked at your hangnails, seemed like you could even smell them nearby, cigarette and cigar smoke lingering in your olfactory memory.

A longing, you told Soap, with your head in your hands, avoiding the embarrassment of eye contact. Stuttering through it, you described the longing, the need for belonging. “You all made it look so easy, it WAS so easy,” You lament. You got here too late, missed the boat on inclusion in the 141. No more room at the inn. They meant everything to you, they were your whole world. And the sneaking ache that you could die tomorrow and they’d move on clawed at your ribcage endlessly. You just… wanted to feel like you meant something to to them, to someone. Wanted someone to steal all the silence in your mind and fill it with warmth. With touch. With lov—

“To someone? Or to him?” You heard, through the static in your ears. The tears you’ve been fighting finally make an appearance.

“Bonnie, hey, darl’,” Soap whispered to you, bringing his lips to your forehead, fingers through your temples. Shh, shh, shh, everything was okay and that the team was here for you. He was here for you. Quieting your mind, his hands ran through your hair and lingered to your neck. You closed your eyes, trying not to feel overwhelmed. “I should have kept my mouth shut you don’t have to pity me.” You said, gently trying to push Soap back.

“Who the fuck said anything about pity.” A different, deeper voice in your ear this time. Panic floods your body as you feel a second pair of hands slide around your shoulders. “No, no, no Ghost, please don’t I’m sorry I shouldn’t—,” you stammer out, fight and flight winning simultaneously as you push immovable bodies and try to pull yourself away. Why you thought that was possible with these two men was beyond you.

Vice grips pull you back down, holding you close to both men’s chests. “Breathe, sergeant.” Delivered as a command. That part of your brain still seemed to function as you took deep breaths, not noticing how Ghost positioned himself on the couch. Leaning back at an angle, he pulled you in his lap, back against his chest and arms around your waist. Feeling his breath against the nape of your neck, steadying, matching his breathing. The smell of cigarettes, pine and sweat fill your senses. Soap slotted himself between both of your legs, into your lap, eyes keeping your focus. Knowing looking at Ghost would throw you completely askew. Ever the team, those two, you thought briefly.

Minutes went by in silence as your breathing slowed, heartbeat returned to normal. Ghost gave you one of his hands to fuss with as you calmed, testing the waters, getting used to him. His other hand carded through Soaps hair, lying in your lap. His nose nuzzled your neck as he broke the silence. “I’m, we’re, sorry for making you feel like the odd man out, sweetheart. Should have done a better job as your lieutenant to make you feel a part of the team.” He took the hand lying in yours and brought it to your stomach, bringing you closer into his chest, rubbing lazy circles. “This is… a lot to some. Who we are as a team. As much as we wanted to bring you in, we didn’t want to scare you away neither.”

“But for what it’s worth, ever since you got here,” Ghost growls, pinky grabbing the edge of your shirt, pulling upwards. “You’ve been ours.”

Everything seemed to move at once. Ghosts hands now on your body properly, exploring your curves and pulling you into him deeper. Soap chuckled lightly, his hands now caressing your hips and breathing into your waistline, peering up at you with big beautiful eyes. “Ours in the royal sense, LT. She’s been called f—“ his words cut off as a rough hand at the back of his head pressed him into your pussy. “Hmm, he’s a lot cuter when he’s down there, huh?” Ghost chuckles into your shoulder. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat, your hands come up and try to meet his, unsure of if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer. His arms come around and lock yours in place as Soap is released and fingers start to play with the button on your pants. “Let us make up for some lost time, sweetheart,” he growls into your shoulder.

Sheer panic, or disassociation, you’re not sure what gets you through the next moment. But either way it feels like an eternity, watching Soap pull down your pants and panties, feeling Ghost caress the valley between your tits, ambiently trying to steady your heart. Mumbling both to you and himself, he repositions you ever so slightly in his lap, bringing your ass tighter into his hips and spreading your thighs across his, giving Soap better access. “Have no fucking idea how bad we’ve needed you, bird. Been dreaming about your fucking body, how you smell, what you taste like.” You feel his hardness start, pushing up against your ass. Your deep breaths start turning into soft moans, and both men groan into you. Soap kisses you gently on your thighs, leading a trail to your core, nipping you along the way. You feel like glass, any sudden movement and you’ll shatter into Ghosts arms, heart too raw, wants too real. Ghost feels your tension and wraps one arm around your waist as the other brings your shirt above your tits, exposing them to the cold room. His free hand teasing a nipple as he whispered “Stay with me, baby.”

A strangled sound left your throat as you felt Soap’s tongue separate your lips and meet your clit. “Johnny, please, oh God.” Feeling his tongue work you open, you can only focus on your breathing so you don’t float away. Ghost adjusts something behind you as you feel two fingers slide in gently. Broken moans and pleas leave your mouth as you feel lips against your neck, kissing, biting. “Tell me how he feels bird.” Ghost murmurs. Fingers moving faster, faster as Soap attacks your clit. You chance a look down as you meet his eyes, his mouth breaking out into the biggest smile as he lifts his face briefly. A man this pretty should be illegal, you think. “Tell me, bonnie. Tell me what you want.” A sound you’d be downright ashamed of leaves your mouth, clenching around his fingers. “Fuck Soap, I want you, I want—“ His fingers start working your g-spot faster as he teases, “Use your words, bon. I wanna hear you say it.”

“I wanna, I wanna cum Johnny, please” you say in barely a whisper as he coaxes it out of you. All you feel is the cord in your stomach break as every muscle in your body tenses. Soap laughing into your clit, Ghost licking and moaning in your ear, that you belong to us, all of us. A distant part of you wonders why things sound so wet as you look down to Soaps eyes, crinkled as he makes you watch yourself squirt into his mouth.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you chant as Soap sucks your clit, bringing you down. Everything feels wet, you can feel it at your knees. This couch is gonna have to be burned. Soap gives one last suck to your clit, coming off with a pop. Ghosts breath comes out in short bursts as you feel him grind hard into your ass, grunting in your ear. Soap comes up and grabs you tenderly by your face, kissing you gently, deeply, making you taste. Bringing his forehead to yours, he looks at you, so tender it makes your heart stop. “Told ya we’re here. Cannae do it without ya, sweet.”

Hands gently lay you down on the couch as you remember what your limbs are supposed to feel like. A kiss from each on your forehead as Ghost says “You did so good, sweetheart. I’m gonna take care of our boy here, you stay put, yeah?” Your breathing starts to return to normal, letting feelings flood back slowly. “Oh, okay.” You whisper out, taking a deep breath and sitting up slightly. The big feelings start to creep back in, but a little less heavy. Tears start to flow, not from sadness but something else. You sniff away some of the emotions. “Are we, are we okay, is, oh my god what is Price, what—“ Soap is quick to take a knee next to you, kissing your tears away and cooing shhhh’s in your ear. You’ve been so distracted by this attention that you finally notice the smell in the room, stronger than earlier. Cloves, a sweetness, cigar smoke.

Your head snaps back to the chair across from you all, and your breath dies in your throat. Blue eyes locked into yours, like he’s never looked at anything else. He crushes the last of his cigar into the ashtray beside him and leans forward, hands gripping his knees tightly. “You broken, sweetheart?”

[mvrkieboo]

Lord, just saw that ask on what if YN is bitter. And ykw? WHAT IF THEN THERES A LOT OF REGRETS LIKE COME ONNNNNN 😫 I really wanna good ending but damnnnnnnnn that scenario on YN being bitter? UGH LURVE THE ANGSTY 🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️

pt. 2 of this ask right here

You've been missing your classes. For 6 days, exactly.

For the first three days, Prof. Suh nagged Xiaojun endlessly for an explanation for your absence, but at one point, all of your lecturers stopped bothering him about it. Xiaojun began to wonder if the lecturers could finally tell that he was simply not your friend anymore—until Prof. Suh suddenly held him back again today. As always, Yangyang and Aeri tagged along.

The lecturer pulled out a fruit basket, patting on it as he gave the three college students—for some reason—a sympathetic look, it even came across as apologetic too. Was the fruit basket an apology for something?

"Listen, I wanted to visit Y/N today, but some bullshit last minute meeting got scheduled—so can you guys pass this on to her for me? Tell her I'm sorry for the messages I sent too—I didn't know at the time. Thanks, guys."

The three looked among themselves, weirded out. Why would Prof. Suh buy you a fruit basket? When Aeri opened her mouth to ask for further explanation, that's when the professor's phone rang—and he took the call immediately.

When he saw that three students were still hanging around his desk stupidly, he pointed at the fruit basket then to the lecture hall's doors—telling them to get out.

Yangyang took the fruit basket and walked out the hall, wondering why the fuck would Prof. Suh bring a fruit basket for you?

There was a folded card stuck to the basket, and they were too curious to leave it alone. Flipping the note to read the contents, it was Prof. Suh's writing, but they realised that this fruit basket was on the behalf of all of the lecturers of the faculty.

May we see you again on brighter days, Y/N.

– On behalf of all the staff of NCU's Business & Management Faculty

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ever since celebrating Jaehyun signing on to SM Entertainment as a singer together, Mark's friend group and your—well, your old friend group hung out a lot at the place where they held the party, which was at Soyeon's café in Sinchon. Geonwoo's mom liked having them come over too, so they often had a fun time together at the café.

"What's with the fancy fruit basket?" Mark got to beat Haechan to it, since everybody was curious about the fruit basket Yangyang was carrying.

"Well, we're actually hoping that you would know, Mark—has Jaehyun mentioned anything about Y/N recently? Did something happen to her?" Xiaojun smiled hesitantly at Mark, and Yangyang places

Mark leaned away from the table, confused as to why Xiaojun would ask that, especially since your name would sometimes be a taboo topic to approach. Yangyang pointed at the card and Mark opened it to read it, now eyebrows all furrowed.

"May we see you again on brighter days? That sounds pretty serious." Haechan read the writing out loud from over Mark's shoulder.

"Listen, this fruit basket is gonna go bad if we don't immediately send it to her, and the staff's money would go to waste that way. How about this—you pass on Y/N's new address to me, I'll drop it off, and then this whole thing can be settled instantly." Yangyang spoke with a jaded tone, leaning back into his seat.

"I don't know her exact address, but I do know what apartment she moved into." Mark offered, and Yangyang nodded gladly.

"Oh, Mark, that would in fact be better. I could just drop it off at the front desk and tell the person to pass it on to her."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In the end, Mark offered to accompany Yangyang for the drop off, mainly because everyone could see Yangyang was ticked off that he had to do this, and if he ran into you, Mark being there was to mediate the situation.

One look at the apartment complex and they realised how much of a downgrade it is from your old place. Granted, anything else could be considered a downgrade compared to the luxury condo you used to live in, but your current apartment looked almost run down and shady.

Mark couldn't help but still feel a little bit bitter and envious that you were willing to move into this kind of place if it meant you could live with Junyoung. Did you really love him this much to endure living in a place like this? Mark was a broke college student too, but even he wouldn't settle to live in an apartment like this.

But, in your defense, it only looked run down because the apartment was old, dated, and looked like maintenance is done once a year only. It still had a lobby with a front desk at least, manned by a relatively old dude who looked well into his 60's.

"Excuse me, but could you please pass this on to one of your tenants? We don't know her exact unit, but it might be under the name Jeong Y/N or Lee Junyoung." Mark talked amicably, not wanting to piss off anyone in this apartment.

The older man behind the desk moved to take out a thick binded file on the shelves behind him. It was a long 3 minutes until the man finally got to the page he needed. He raised his eyebrows, looked at Mark and Yangyang, then looked at the page again.

"Kid, the unit you mentioned was a crime scene. The cleaners just arrived to wash away the blood and the mess. The tenant—Lee Junyoung—is already dead. A week ago, he stabbed his girlfriend before killing himself—but I heard the girl survived and is currently recuperating at Taeho Memorial Hospital. It's better if you brought this basket there instead."

Mark and Yangyang went blank and dead silent at the information, felt like the whole world froze for a moment, both of their bodies frozen still—then they took off without thanking the old man, bringing along the fruit basket with them into Yangyang's McLaren. On the way to the apartment's parking lot to reach Yangyang's car, Mark was already dialing Jaehyun's number.

Jaehyun was in the studio, nodding along to a beat he was really liking when his phone rang, flashing Mark's picture on his screen. Mark knew he'd be busy, and Mark always liked to text instead of calling anyway. Suddenly feeling dread and a weird sense of urgency take over him, he quickly excused himself out of the studio to take the call.

"Jae, did you know?" Mark sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him, and Jaehyun frowned at the sudden question.

"Know what?"

"Stop fucking around! If you knew, why wouldn't tell me about it? I mean—you know I still care for her and that I'm still not over her yet, so why the fu—"

"Mark! Bro, calm down. What are you talking about? You're speaking in riddles, man—I don't understand what you're trying to say." Jaehyun walked to the windows, looking down on the city as he heard Mark take deep breaths before speaking again.

That was when Mark realised Jaehyun didn't know. He messed with his hair as Yangyang began to drive the car a lot faster than what he was comfortable with. Did the dude even know the directions to Taeho Memorial Hospital?

"It's Y/N, Jae. Junyoung's dead, he killed himself—but before that, he attacked Y/N and—and she got stabbed. She's currently recovering at Taeho Memorial Hospital. Fuck, this is why her lecturer wanted us to give her a goddamn fruit basket."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

You wheeled yourself out of Dr. Kim Sejeong's office. She was a wonderful therapist, and you could tell there was progress in your mental health after you agreed to take up therapy to heal yourself—but it didn't change the fact you had felt pushed to do this the first time you entered her office.

You came to a halt when you saw two men rose from the waiting seats outside Dr. Kim's office. You felt your face going stiff, when you realized Kyungsoo and Taeyong had been waiting for you.

These were the two sneaky assholes who roped Junmyeon into their plan in convincing you to get therapy. You still remembered how hard you cried on Junmyeon's shoulder five days ago.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So you found his body." You spoke out, sounding soulless.

Junmyeon nodded beside his old partner, Kyungsoo. Taeyong was busy getting coffee at West Wing's café. A kid ran past in front of your wheelchair, giggling as it chased a butterfly with her mother just right behind her. The hospital's garden was spacious, but there were still some tricky pebbles she should look out for.

"Yep. Yoonsu hadn't been lying—Junyoung was found at the abandoned plant nursery. They were just about to renovate it when we came with a search warrant—ah, the school's director was so annoying, kept bitching about how he didn't want it to leak to the media. People like them are the reason why I decided to become a cop." Junmyeon sighed deeply, loosening his necktie at the memory.

Kyungsoo smirked at the older man, making a snide comment on how the commissioner shouldn't be so crass in front of a civilian. Junmyeon slapped him at the back of the head—it wasn't like he wanted the position, but it was thrusted upon him. Turning it down would anger a lot of people, and that included his own grandfather who had given a lot of gifts to the old commissioner for Junmyeon to be selected as his successor.

You stayed stone faced as the two bickered, and when they realised you were staying quiet, Jumyeon looked at you then shared a look with Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo had told him over the phone you might possibly be suffering from a...kind of depression of some sorts after everything Yoonsu made you go through.

You needed someone to push you into the path of proper recovery.

Both men saw Taeyong walking out of the West Wing with a bag in hand, so Junmyeon nodded at Kyungsoo as he fished the inner pockets of his blazer, and Kyungsoo not so discreetly walked away, signalling Taeyong to turn on his heel too.

Junmyeon reached for your hand, forcing your closed fist to open and placed something on your palm. When you pulled your hand away, you saw it was Junyoung's nametag pin. You felt your heart skip a beat as you looked at it, buried memories unearthing themselves inside your mind.

"...you know, I couldn't stand Junyoung the first time I met him. He was more crass than me, arrogant, prideful—and most of all, he was so goddamn selfish. I hated that guy, if I have to be honest with you, Y/N." Junmyeon hunched over, placing his elbows on his knees.

He stared right ahead, watching an older brother carrying his younger brother on his back, probably boasting about how strong he was to be able to carry his little brother. Junmyeon let out a pained smile at the sight.

"But after he met you, that selfishness started to chip away. He was still arrogant and foul-mouthed—and if he was alive, I've no doubt he would still be that way—but he couldn't afford to be so selfish anymore when it came to you."

You felt your eyes water as you closed your fingers around the nametag, then you felt Junmyeon's hands cover yours, as if he was also trying to keep that nametag safe from the world like you were.

"Kyungsoo told me. About all the things you said Yoonsu said to you before he killed himself, how your own friend dismissed you when you asked to speak with your brother one last time—Y/N, you have to know that all those things he said to you will never be true, you're not selfish. You deserve to live a life beyond Yoonsu, Y/N. You deserve to live a life beyond Junyoung too. He didn't die because of you, he died because of Yoonsu's selfishness—not yours." Junmyeon spoke softly, watching you cry without making a sound.

"I know you resent your friends for leaving you, and I know you also feel like blaming yourself for it because you were the one that pushed them away first, but you can't keep wallowing in your pain all by yourself, Y/N. If they had hurt you so badly, they should apologise to you—but how could they realise what they did wrong and apologize if you're not letting them know?" Junmyeon started to wipe away your tears, even as you started to shake your head.

"But I can't seem to let it go. I don't know if I could forgive them even if they apologize to me. I don't think I'm strong enough to do it." You sobbed out, feeling so ashamed of yourself.

Junmyeon tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear before he placed a hand on the back of your head. This was the same head that his late step cousin loved so much, the same head that Junyoung sacrificed his selfishness for.

"Then get help. Get therapy, receive some counseling. Me and Kyungsoo are scared that if you continue to be like this, you might..." He trailed off, and he didn't have to finish it for you to understand what he was trying to say.

"Please? For Junyoung, at least? He loved you so much, kid. He deserves to see you live a life beyond all this pain, all this suffering...and you owe it to yourself too. Living in misery would just let Yoonsu win in the end. Don't let that asshole win, Y/N."

He saw how your shoulders slumped. You relented, and you started to nod. His hand on the back of your head stretched around your shoulders, letting you cry on his. Finally, Junmyeon felt like his debt with Junyoung was now paid tenfold. At last he got to find where Junyoung was after all these years, and the girl Junyoung loved so much was finally saved from Yoonsu's hold on her.

At last.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Detectives, if my memory serves me well, you belong to Gangnam's Police Force, not Seoul's." You grumbled, not having the strength to fight off Taeyong who was pushing your wheelchair for you.

"And that makes it illegal for us to visit you?" Kyungsoo scoffed from beside you, making you roll his eyes.

You began to tap your foot on the footpad. Kyungsoo caught it, and smirked when he realised he was annoying you. Great, he thought, it's payback for all the times you greatly annoyed him three years ago. It's even more fun when you can't find it in you to whip out snarky comebacks to use against him

"How was therapy? Can me and Taeyong finally go inform your family now? Or are you gonna stall our work for another week?" Kyungsoo side eyed you, and you whipped your head to look at him.

Taeyong cracked a smile, finding it both humorous and heartwarming to see you both bickering. You had been so despondent during the first days, it had him and Kyungsoo relieved to see you having a personality again, even if you were constantly grumpy every time they came and visited you.

"I told you already, Detective Do, I'll tell you when I'm ready. Stop trying to push me to—"

"Y/N?" The familiar voice had you silent in a heartbeat.

Kyungsoo and Taeyong stopped in their tracks, and you included since you were getting wheeled by Taeyong. All three of you stayed frozen at the doorway, seeing so many people in your private room that weren't your doctor and her usual entourage of medical students and nurses (Junmyeon pulled some strings to get you a private room once you were transferred out of the ICU ward. Sometimes you forget Junmyeon also came from a rich family like Yangyang and Chenle).

Inside your room were your remaining family members (Yuno, your father), your foster family (Geonwoo, Woojin, Soyeon), Mark, and your classmates (Xiao, Yangs, Aeri). They felt their breaths stop when they saw you sitting limply on your wheelchair, deep purple bruises all over your face.

You dug your nails into your lap and began to stand up from your wheelchair, alarming Kyungsoo and Taeyong who knew that you were supposed to change your stitches today. Everyone else in the room began to go after you too, seeing how the two men with you were panicking to see you walking by yourself.

You felt like Kyungsoo and Taeyong had betrayed you. You had immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was the detectives that called them over, even when they knew you weren't ready to face them again.

"Kid—" Kyungsoo yelled out, placing a hand on your shoulder when you were already out in the hallway, but you pulled your shoulder away from him so violently it had him going pale, worried that you might tear open your stitches.

And when Taeyong glanced down to the spot where you had been stabbed, he staggered when he saw blood seeping through the shirt the hospital had given you to wear.

"Y/N, stop!" Kyungsoo yelled out again, rushing over to stand in front of you.

The commotion caused everyone in the hallway to stop and witness the scene. Some nurses began to crowd you however, as some of them were already familiar with you and your injury, not wanting you to run and escape when your stitches were obviously ripping. Taeyong held your shoulders from behind while Kyungsoo closed in, forcing you into a bear hug to limit your movements.

You raised your arms and started to pound on his chest, tears streaming down your face at the pain of your stitches ripping open and at the betrayal you felt. The bear hug forced you to your knees, with Kyungsoo whispering something into your ears to calm you down.

"It wasn't us, kid. We didn't inform them. We don't know how they got here, okay? We wouldn't betray you like that. We didn't call them over, Y/N." He spoke softly, and quickly swept you up to carry you in his arms and into your room to lie you down on your bed.

As soon as he lied you down, your doctor came in with her team, immediately pushing everyone out of the room and closing the door in front of them.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Who are you people? How do you know my sister?" Yuno asked stiffly, obviously still frazzled from the commotion you caused earlier.

Taeyong and Kyungsoo stared at the people before them. Just right as Kyungsoo was about to tell them who they were, a voice down the hallway rang through, gathering everyone's attention.

"Detectives!" Dr. Kim, your therapist, appeared.

She staggered back a little when she saw national darling and viral sensation Jeong Jaehyun in front of her. Sejeong tilted her head at him then looked at the detectives for a proper explanation. She just heard that you made a commotion earlier and tore open your stitches.

"I'm sorry, but who are these people?" Sejeong asked sincerely, seeing that all of them were waiting in front of your door.

"Dr. Kim, meet Jeong Y/N's friends and family." Taeyong spoke tiredly, pinching at his temple.

Sejeong balked.

"No! Y/N wasn't ready to see them again, detectives, so how could you! Didn't you promise that you'd only reach them out and inform them once they're ready?" She nearly shrieked, now upset on your behalf.

Kyungsoo and Taeyong looked at your friends and family—well, former friends and family. Both detectives understood that they shouldn't let personal bias cloud their judgement on people (it's literally their job to be that way), but they couldn't help it when all they could see at the moment was Y/N's sole source of pain, now that Yoonsu's dead.

"That's the problem—we didn't inform them. We were wheeling Y/N back to her room so we could spend some time with her and see how she's doing, but when we got to her room, they were already there inside it. It's why she freaked out and tore open her stitches." Taeyong explained thoroughly, looking straight into Yuno's eyes.

"You didn't answer our question earlier, asshole—who the fuck are you, and how do you know Y/N?" Yangyang spoke out this time, stepping out of the group and coming face to face with both of the detectives.

"Okay, time out! Detectives, please take these people to the canteen downstairs to give them the rundown of it. You can't keep crowding the hallway like this, and it's also within Y/N's best interest that you don't overwhelm her once the doctor's done with fixing up her stitches." Sejeong did a karate chop in the air between your friends and family and the detectives.

"Why should we follow your orders?" Mark asked genuinely, and Sejeong sighed at him as she showed them her badges.

"I'm a psychologist working for this hospital, and I also happen to be Y/N's therapist. Please, I beg of you for the sake of my patient, go to the canteen with the detectives. I can't breach patient confidentiality, but these detectives are obligated by the law to explain to Y/N's family on what happened to her."

A/N : might post a pt. 3, but i also might not 🫨

[plaidos]

Hi! I’m not a follower but I came across your post while browsing the arcane tag and I was curious bc I’d only heard positive things about the show re: representation so far. I went ahead and rewatched the scene you shared the image of and here’s what I’d say—

i don’t remember much about the character on the left, I think they’re only in there for that brief scene where we see them react as some rando gets thrown out of the brothel theyre standing in front of. They’re not treated like a joke, they just exist.

the one on the right is a yordle which is a race from LoL/arcane, which is why she looks “funko pop” esque. side note, she’s not the only yordle in the show and not all yordles are in the undercity. she’s only in one scene but has a somewhat important role. She’s not treated as a joke at all. When she seductively curls a finger at one of the side characters and he shies away and grimaces, I took that more as a kid (like a 13 year old) being creeped out that a lady old enough to be his grandma is trying to pull him into the brothel.

the whole scene this is a part of is just us being introduced to the city (“the undercity”) the main characters live in, it’s dark, it’s grimy, it’s the underbelly. We see shots of a lot of different types of creatures, different types of people, different races. The primary thing being portrayed here is how dangerous and non kid friendly the place is, as we see lots of criminals, shady characters, and ofc the aforementioned brothel.

all that being said, I’m not trans so I could be missing something here, but I feel like the screenshot is somewhat taken out of context. I myself had to go back and watch the scene to remember what happened.

Also, I really love the show and I think it’s a shame people are shying away from it because it’s based off league. Ofc you don’t have to watch anything you don’t want to, but it’s a great standalone story and I have a lot of friends who watched it despite hating league (and league players) and still enjoyed it!

Anyways sorry this was kind of long and I hope you don’t mind that I dropped into ur inbox despite not following u.

what you’re missing is that it is a joke. like, you’re telling me how you “took the scene” but you’re just wrong, sorry. like you don’t need to explain the scene to me! i went and watched it. and it’s transmisogynistic for all of the reasons i’ve described. just because there isn’t a massive punchline about her being a man in a dress doesn’t mean it isn’t transmisogynistic. like the audience is supposed to think that this huge muscular trans woman and her gremlin friend are disgusting and scary. it’s awesome that you didn’t and you thought this was just, oh cool, nice body types moment! but why were these specific women chosen for a joke about the seedy underbelly of this city? why these specific women for a joke about how scary this place is?

you have to stop closing your eyes when trans women point out the obvious. it is a transphobic joke. anybody trying to argue with me on that in my inbox will be blocked.

[lovelyshu]

I ONLY TALK TO DOGS BECAUSE THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND ME — with Minho

001 DESCRIPTION — how minho deals with a crying teenager he cares about

002 TAGS — all platonic, gn reader, use of yn like once, very fluffy, a tiny bit of angst if you squint (reader doesn't trust parents with problems or anyone else tbh + like lots of crying), very self indulgent

003 COMMENTS — what does crying at least once a week in the middle of the night does to a person? It gives them ✨ideas✨. Also this was inspired by my brother even if I never told him much. He was the only person I allowed to see me cry.

004 TAGGING — @hannamoon143 @jisunggy

Minho doesn't remember exactly when did he got so close to you. And to be honest, neither did you.

But now you were someone very important to him, going as far as calling you his little sibling.

And that's also one of the reasons he accepted when you asked to sleep on his house that night.

The other reason being that he knew you weren't feeling so good these days. Even if you tried to hide it, your obvious reactions to which no one seemed to notice or care gave it away.

Well, that didn't mean he was expecting to her crying in the middle of the night.

It was 1:35 am. And Minho had no idea on to why were you still awake. He was still feeling sleepy and tired, but as soon as he heard the sob coming from the other room, his mind put to the side any sleepiness in his body.

Slowly, he walked to your room, standing right outside your door. Minho thought about knocking on it, but you would probably just ignore.

So that's why he just - slowly - opened it, to which made you freeze, trying to pretend to be asleep.

“yn? Are you alright?”

No response.

Sighing, he walked closer to you after closing the door, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Minho knew you had trouble with opening up to other people, even sympathizing with the feeling. Knowing that, he put a hand over your head, patting it softly.

“If there's anything bothering you, I'm more than happy to help you. You don't need to bottle up everything.”

As you stayed in silence, he continued.

“And I can also just listen, if you'd like. I won't tell anyone about this, unless you ask me to.”

The silence continued for a short moment, until he heard you speak, voice cracking slightly. A clear sign you were indeed crying.

“Not even my parents?”

“No. If you don't want them to know, I won't tell them.”

You slowly turned to face him, sitting up. Minho seeing this slowly puts your head on his shoulder, letting you take your time with talking.

“Minho... I'm sorry..”

“What are you sorry for?” - he spoke in such a soft and calm tone that made you get even more emotional than you were.

Trying to find the right words, more tears begun to found their way to your eyes as you tried your best to not let them fall.

“For everything. I'm a failure, I can't do anything right, my parents are alright but it seems like I can never make them proud. The only thing I give them is shame.”

Minho moved you a bit, enough so that you could hide your face on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Sometimes I just want to disappear.. I always ask myself if anyone would even care if I did...”

Hearing your words made Minho hug you tightly, mumbling in such a low voice that you might've missed if it wasn't for the silence.

“You're not a failure. If anything, you are the most talented and intelligent person I've ever met.”

Minho sighed as he noticed that you were crying even more, knowing those words might mean something way too big for your own heart to bear.

“And you don't even see it. If you ever disappeared, I'd go all around the world to find you.”

Slowly, he laid you down again, but now, laying down as well, still holding you.

After some long minutes, Minho noticed you were drifting off to sleep, which somehow, got him in peace enough to do the same.

Not until he whispered again.

“You're not alone. Don't forget that.”

Was the last thing you heard before closing your eyes, comfortably sleeping while cuddling no one other than Minho himself.

[travelersofthemultiverse]

why is everyone fighting? Why are we all hurting each other? Why are we fighting over terms? Why are there people ignoring intersectionality and coming up with bullshit to say about each other? why are we dismissing the existence of people within our communities? Why are we isolating each other instead of helping each other? Why are we getting into silly fights about shipping? why are some of us pitting us against each other? Why is any of this happening at all? Just why why why why why why? Why is there so much bigotry(of all kinds) within our communities? Why can’t we just wake up and help each other? we are all being oppressed by the same bigoted capitalist assholes. Why are we busy fighting each other instead of them? 

[gen4grl]

you would think after all the yapping i do about these losers i would have a plethora of art uploaded … no… so here is my first kantrio post lol

i did these over the last month while watching the olympic weightlifting and jamming to kpop (stan red velvet and kiss of life BTW!!!)

[maskofenigma]

Fallen London's recurring topic of Love is really interesting to me as a sort of throughline between various stories and i want to ramble about discuss that briefly. i dont call it a theme because thematic statements are usually more complex than a single word, at least in my mind, but a lot of Fallen London's storylines incorporate love into their themes.

there's the obvious things ofc; the Manager and the King, the Duchess and the Canigaster, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, the Bazaar's whole situation. Love is a common motivator that many people can relate to, so it's no surprise that it appears in this capacity. Even so, these instances also underpin a lot of the setting's character, particularly the latter two examples, explaining why the neath is the way it is. but if we broaden our horizons just a bit, you can start to see it appearing all over the place (though maybe thats just confirmation bias lol).

the youthful naturalist loves discovery and life, and evolution in that context is a story about what one is willing to endure and sacrifice for that love. Love is a constant theme in the Light Fingers storyline, between moon milk and poor Edward, but also shows in Mr Fires's love for London (strange and deleterious though it may be) and the protagonist's love for either the Hybrid they protected or the diamond they'd been after. I don't know as much about the other ambitions (yet), but Nemesis is all about avenging a loved one by any means necessary, and you could see Bag a Legend as a love for the hunt or a love of fame, though even i’ll admit thats a bit of a stretch. Idk about Heart's Desire i’m still working on it but there's probably something. Its literally about what your heart desires but there’s absolutely a deeper connection with the Marvellous and stuff. No spoilers i'm still working on it :3

i dont know a ton about SMEN's story either, but i know from a ludonarrative perspective that it tests the players love for their character, forcing you to ruin this silly victorian who you are presumably quite attached to in the search for knowledge (perhaps another kind of love?) With what little i know of it, i’d honestly be shocked if there wasn’t anything there. if ao3 has taught me anything, there was definitely some kind of love going on between those two space bats, but im not sure if ao3 is a reputable source in this specific instance

The Flukes are literally sick with love for lost Axile, and a lot of the Masters are shown yearning to return to the High Wilderness. Many of the Irem Destinies regard love in this way, love for the sun, for the liberation, for ones partner, for london, for the people of the neath, and on and on. im not very far along with the railway but im 100% certain itll crop up again there, whether with Furnace Ancona or the Efficient Commissioner or the masters or whatever else. same goes for the Exceptional Stories and the myriad tales ive yet to unlock. Weve started to see a glimmer of it in firmament, with the imminent lucifer fire guy, but i wasnt really sure what his deal was. the idea extends to the other Sunless games from what i know, though ive yet to play those. Mask of the Rose is a romance, so thats pretty clear cut; sunless skies seems to have a lot of content relating to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert; and sunless seas seems to have it present in a few storylines, though i couldnt point to anything specific at this time. even small things, such as the way that the railway steel seems drawn to Hell and the sorrowful properties of sphinxstone, makes for a setting that is inundated with longing and heartbreak in a fascinating way.

viewed through this lens, fallen london's perspective on love is tragically earnest: love is painful and unfair and yet so very necessary. as someone who's aromantic and a hater, i call that an L. but from a thematic perspective its very interesting how often this occurs and how it connects a lot of fallen london. In so many other narratives, love is a conclusion, a reward or climax. In fact, mass media seems allergic to depicting an active and healthy relationship, and instead relegates such matters to a single ceremonious kiss. But for fallen london, a game where kisses are currency and romance is taxed, the concept of love is afforded such an interesting amount of care and reverence. Fitting for a setting wherein the insisting incidents all relate to love in some way or another

it may be comedic and at times quite absurd, but fallen london to me is a game deeply concerned with love and its influence on people. and idk i think thats interesting. if you're looking for the theme or message of a given fallen london story, look to love, always.

does that count as a thesis? i certainly dont know

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.