#thank you for witnessing this even when so many people in my life are looking away

[karlachismylife]

I have been summoned from the pit of my depression to talk about Nikolai's political views by this post whether you want it or not.

Wholeheartedly admitting that I am fully biased on multiple levels, I am here to say that Nikolai is a firm socialist (bordering on communist but he does not like when any of his western allies call him that cuz 98% of the time they either think "commie" is an insult or think that USSR was a communist country or that every Russian is communist. Or all three. Graves calls him a commie once and never makes that mistake again on account of wanting to keep living his pathetic 'merican life without having to constantly look over his shoulder.)

I am also here to say that had he stayed in Russia to participate in war(s) in Chechnya we would have a full grown ancom here. These conflicts basically shaped Russian political landscape as it is now, and if we (I) think Afghanistan was what lead to Nikolai's disappointment in the cause he wanted to fight for and therefore the change in where his loyalty lies (always with his country, unlike the people he took orders from at the time), then Chechnya would create a much more radicalized version of Nik. His heart is already halfway there, but he didn't get to live directly through the circumstances that shaped that next generation that would fight in street wars all throughout Russia.

He grew up on socialist/communist ideals and sticks with those, and I am sure he took it close to heart when he witnessed their decline. But unlike many, he was able to recognize that it wasn't the ideas' flaws, but of those who carried the slogans while contradicting them in every step.

Nik is a patriot, a convinced, but quiet one - but also unlike many "quiet" patriots, he's not sticking to his "lesser homeland" or is a patriot of some non-existent depoliticized version of Russia. It's not birch trees or blue waves of Volga he's patriotic of, it's the country Russia could (and maybe, just maybe, his youthful idealistic heart still thinks can) be. He knows that a country is its people, not government or symbols.

And he most definitely has a disdain towards the military apparatus AND the police. He grew up on Soviet image of a morally righteous protector-милиционер, and seeing how actually corrupt all these forces probably landed a bitter wound deep at his core. He learnt the way of compromise, but I do think that he doesn't consider his career and choices the best. There's something to be said about how Farah is everything he always strived and sometimes failed to be, so while he obviously is the most loyal to John, he might be ready to go to even greater lengths for her. Farah has a chance to do for her country and people what Nikolai couldn't do for his, and he must admire how strong her moral compass is. She has to make compromises too, their circumstances are different, but he definitely thinks she's more capable at this fight than he is. Farah is his bet on the brighter future.

And finally I am here to say that unlike many, Nikolai has always enjoyed certain western attractions, from music to food to just, let's be honest, much better standards of living, but never deemed it a synonym to freedom. Capitalism could and will never seduce him.

Also he did eat black caviar for breakfast when he was a kid and definitely doesn't think that highly of it.

This is the most self-projection I could ever make on a character and I will gladly die on this hill, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

I don't think Nik and Price see eye to eye on politics all the time. Unfortunately, I think Price is a staunch monarchist and quite centrist - even centre-right - in some of his ideologies. But because he's a northerner he is also bitterly anti-Tory. Nik can't quite work him out.

They do agree on big things though; the hypocrisy of ruling classes, for the many not the few, the importance of and inherent nobility in self-sacrifice for the weak and dispossessed, pro-lgbt, pro-womens rights. You know, the important shit. Which is what makes Price so frustrating to Nik.

Their first big argument happened when Price overheard Nik call the Queen "parasite in chief". Two very stubborn men who are old enough to be fully entrenched in their particular way of thinking clashing horns; big words and raised voices, but no actual fists thrown. Nik is so frustrated that Price can't see the absolute hypocrisy in his position, and Price is frustrated that Nik can't see the importance of national symbols and patriotism, especially for the working class, and could be so disrespectful to something he cares about.

"But I am not disrespecting you, only your monarchy, John."

"My country is me!"

"They are not your country, your people are--!"

Price's loyalty to the crown and country (not just the land itself, but the people in it) is part of who he is. I headcanon he joined the army to run away from his home life, but there's also the inference from canon material and my knowledge of Men Like Him that leads me to believe the whole monarchist thing would be a sticking point between him and Nikolai.

It's not relationship-ending, because Nik also knows that there are two loyalties that surpass Price's loyalty to the flag: loyalty to Nik, and loyalty to the 141.

[boygirlctommy]

i love the bit from oct 17 2020 when tommy and quackity trapped wilbur in a cobblestone box to keep him from pressing the button... wilbur punching through the blocks with his bare hand to try to get to the button... tommy frantically replacing the block in front of him yelling for quackity to do something... the moment when tommy stops, blocks the exit, and tells wilbur to do it. press the button. but then theyd die with him. quackitys like "wait, wait-" but tommy holds his ground and wilbur. ohh wilbur. "why'd you have to make it so hard?"

[milkyspine]

[logaenhowlett]

SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS - L.H.

Summary: What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff - Logan is 100% whipped, Wade

A/N: 4.4k - my longest fic yet! Worst!Logan has my entire soul, I'd give anything just for that pretty smile. Title creds to Tears For Fears. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The familiar burn of whiskey stings the back of his throat. Logan rests his head against the couch, second-guessing his decision to babysit Laura's cat while she's enjoying her night out. Her tireless attempts of pestering him at last working in her favour so he can finally meet his 'copy-kitten' - her words.

A quick glance at the time reveals he should probably head out now. Logan rises, groaning as his muscles protest after weeks of just slumping around the apartment. Even Al had pointed out how lazy he'd become lately. And that unsolicited observation gave him half the mind to consider finding new roommates. But who was he kidding? As much as he also barely tolerated that one incredibly maddening little prick's incessant jibber-jabber, he wasn't going to find anything for what he's currently paying.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.” 

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

Laura: We are NOT calling it that.

[pickingupmymercedes]

A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton

Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

_______________________________________

The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.

Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.

The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.

He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.

“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”

Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.

The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”

Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.

His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”

Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”

The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.

There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.

The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”

His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”

As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.

They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.

The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.

Except this wasn��t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.

The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.

“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”

Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”

She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”

Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.

“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”

Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.

“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”

Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.

Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”

For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.

“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”

Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.

She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”

Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.

The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.

“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”

Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”

He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”

The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.

“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.

“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”

“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”

She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.

“Have I ever made you jealous?”

Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”

His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”

Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.

For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”

Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.

“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”

“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.

Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.

“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”

This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”

Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”

For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.

She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”

The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.

“What’s something you wish you did more often?”

Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”

She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”

Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.

“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”

She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”

The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”

“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”

Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”

“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”

Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”

“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”

She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”

Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

“When did you first know that you were in love?”

This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”

She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”

Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.

“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”

Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”

She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”

“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”

“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”

“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”

“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.

“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”

Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”

“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”

For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.

She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”

Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.

The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.

“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”

Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.

Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”

“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”

The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”

His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”

The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”

“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.

Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”

The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”

Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”

And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.

The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.

Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”

She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”

He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.

She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”

She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”

She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”

Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.

Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.

For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.

“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”

“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”

She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”

Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”

She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”

“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”

______________________________________________________________

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[wheelscomedyandmore]

You Might Not Ever Guess

Captain Kangaroo passed away on January 23, 2004 as age 76 , which is odd, because he always looked to be 76. (DOB: 6/27/27 ) His death reminded me of the following story.

Some people have been a bit offended that the actor, Lee Marvin, is buried in a grave alongside 3 and 4 star generals at Arlington National Cemetery . His marker gives his name, rank (PVT) and service (USMC). Nothing else. Here's a guy who was only a famous movie star who served his time, why the heck does he rate burial with these guys? Well, following is the amazing answer:

I always liked Lee Marvin, but didn't know the extent of his Corps experiences.

In a time when many Hollywood stars served their country in the armed forces often in rear echelon posts where they were carefully protected, only to be trotted out to perform for the cameras in war bond promotions.

Lee Marvin was a genuine hero. He won the Navy Cross at Iwo Jima. There is only one higher Naval award... the Medal Of Honor

If that is a surprising comment on the true character of the man, he credits his sergeant with an even greater show of bravery.

Dialog from "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson": His guest was Lee Marvin Johnny said, "Lee, I'll bet a lot of people are unaware that you were a Marine in the initial landing at Iwo Jima ..and that during the course of that action you earned the Navy Cross and were severely wounded."

"Yeah, yeah... I got shot square in the bottom and they gave me the Cross for securing a hot spot about halfway up Suribachi. Bad thing about getting shot up on a mountain is guys getting' shot hauling you down. But Johnny, at Iwo I served under the bravest man I ever knew... We both got the cross the same day, but what he did for his Cross made mine look cheap in comparison. That dumb guy actually stood up on Red beach and directed his troops to move forward and get the hell off the beach. Bullets flying by, with mortar rounds landing everywhere and he stood there as the main target of gunfire so that he could get his men to safety. He did this on more than one occasion because his men's safety was more important than his own life.

That Sergeant and I have been lifelong friends. When they brought me off Suribachi we passed the Sergeant and he lit a smoke and passed it to me, lying on my belly on the litter and said, where'd they get you Lee?' Well Bob.. if you make it home before me, tell Mom to sell the outhouse!"

Johnny, I'm not lying, Sergeant Keeshan was the bravest man I ever knew.

The Sergeant's name is Bob Keeshan. You and the world know him as Captain Kangaroo."

On another note, there was this wimpy little man (who just passed away) on PBS, gentle and quiet. Mr. Rogers is another of those you would least suspect of being anything but what he now portrays to our youth.

But Mr. Rogers was a U.S. Navy Seal, combat-proven in Vietnam with over twenty-five confirmed kills to his name. He wore a long-sleeved sweater on TV, to cover the many tattoos on his forearm and biceps. He was a master in small arms and hand-to-hand combat, able to disarm or kill in a heartbeat.

After the war Mr. Rogers became an ordained Presbyterian minister and therefore a pacifist. Vowing to never harm another human and also dedicating the rest of his life to trying to help lead children on the right path in life. He hid away the tattoos and his past life and won our hearts with his quiet wit and charm.

America's real heroes don't flaunt what they did; they quietly go about their day-to-day lives, doing what they do best. They earned our respect and the freedoms that we all enjoy.

Look around and see if you can find one of those heroes in your midst.

Often, they are the ones you'd least suspect, but would most like to have on your side if anything ever happened.

Take the time to thank anyone that has fought for our freedom. With encouragement they could be the next Captain Kangaroo or Mr. Rogers.

Send this on will you please? Nothing will happen to you if you don't, but it will tell what a "real" HERO is made of.

[merowkittie]

Hiii idk if you are still taking requests but Poolverine has taken over MY LIFE haha I would die for a Logan/Wade/Reader where they just worship their tiny lil mutant gf who could 100% kick their asses if she wanted to

hi hii!! i’m always taking requests, as long as my pinned post says ‘requests are open’!

poolverine has taken over my entire being i fear.

Lil Ass Kicker — DP & WV

summary: due to ur size most of the time sometimes people under estimate how strong you truly are. besides your boyfriends; they like when you remind them <3

warnings: none besides canon typical violence =] !

notes: i didn't specify if reader had specific mutant abilities..maybe i'll come up with a specific one laterr for future fics / hopefully this meets ur expectations, enjoy!

at this point, you didn't get offended when people looked at your stature and thought you were some weak tiny human, when in reality you were just as strong as Logan.. maybe even stronger?

you could kick a grown mans ass in seconds! your boyfriends have witnessed it AND have been on the receiving end before. and lets just say,

they LOVE it.

"ohh, come on peanut!" wade yells from your far left in a somewhat disappointed tone, "I'll admit you look hot but that's just disgusting."

you'll admit this wasn't the prettiest site, even though wade just called you sexy. you were sweaty, kind of covered in blood, and had just broken a mans arm and was using it to make him punch himself in his face. it was very amusing to you until wade burst your bubble.

with a roll of your eyes and the slightest quirk of your lips tugging up in the corners you tossed the man to the side and skipped over to logan who was almost covered in blood completely; his knuckles were basically dyed red from his claws coming in and out and with the blood of half of the people he stabbed..

you guys were an odd trio, but you worked!

"looks like yer having fun, huh?" logan looked down at you with a smirk.

he can also admit that you look beautiful right now sweaty and kicking ass left and right. he'd definitely show you how much he enjoyed witnessing this when you three got home.

you nodded in response to his question humming out an "mhm".

once wade caught up to you two, you guys began to wrap up your mission. it went by in a flash with constant grunts, bodies hitting the floors, gun shots, and to many bones breaking.

yea it was a bit over the top but hey! wade wanted to be a 'good' guy today so this is the schedule! what wasn't on the schedule was watching wade get impaled in the head by his own katana.

logan was too busy fighting to come over and give wade a hand so you had to take matters into your own hands.

silently, you snuck over to where he was and took the guy who impaled your boyfriend by surprise. your elbow reeled forward and hit him in the back the head, causing him to stumble. quickly, your leg swept his feet from under him causing him to trip over his own two feet. right before he fell, you took your gun from it's holster on your thigh and shot him in the head just as he hit the floor.

"oh god, i'm so painfully hard right now, babe." wade's voice chimed in from the floor. he still had the katana sticking through his head and you could tell he was feeling that loopy effect of it right now.

with a sigh, you helped him to his feet and yanked the katana out of his head. he shook his head side to side and groaned at the feeling of it being pulled out.

"thank you my incredibly strong, beautiful, and tiny girlfriend." he made kissy noises from underneath his masks, wanting you to kiss him over it. with a bit of a grimace you stood on your toes and pressed a quick kiss over his lips.

"wha' about me?" logan said from behind you, referencing to the kiss.

with an exaggerated groan and playful stomps of your feet you turned around him and gave him a kiss too.

"I hope you guys know this is very unprofessional!" you shouted as you walked away from the two with a huff.

they were definitely going to show you how in love they were with you when you got home.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Heya, could you write one for Tanjirou where the reader gets hurt on a mission and he feels bad about letting it happen as they were protecting Nezuko and he has feelings for her?

Thanks. I love your writing and take your time x

Okay I LOVE THIS

Tanjiro realizing his feelings for reader after she risks her life to protect Nezuko

Pairing: Tanjiro x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Synopsis: Despite being well-composed and never deciding without thinking twice, you find yourself recklessly risking your life in order to protect Nezuko from getting hurt by Daki. Little do you know what an impact your second impulsive choice will have...

Warnings: severe injury, near death experience, fluff over fluff with Tanjiro with probably the cutest ending I've ever written, not proofread, I'll use one collage and one stand-alone AI pic so if this triggers you, I suggest not to read or look at them 🤍

You never considered yourself impulsive. No, you never acted out of a feeling, never operated without thinking twice. Always kept your composure, a cool head. Maybe this is the reason for you still being alive, the reason why you are able to call yourself a quite skilled demon slayer on the side of your friends.

“You’ll come with me. I need you to look out for my wives.”

It was clear right from the start that this wouldn’t be an easy mission. All of Tengen’s wives enjoyed education when it comes to fighting skills. As a former shinobi, he made sure they were able to defend themselves. If he lost contact to them, it was clear something bigger is behind it. Something way bigger than anything you witnessed until that day.

“I can’t allow you to take (y/n) with you like that. I will join!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouted from behind with his oh so confident voice.

You will never forget the way he smiled at you back then, how much he cared for your well-being each and everyday since you arrived in the red-light district.

“I would never allow a demon to hurt one of my friends!”

Friends. Not quite the word you’d like to use for him. Since you first met each other when he saved you during the final selection, you always kept an eye open for the boy with the special kimono.

And his sister.

Apart from many people who dislike her, you loved Nezuko since the first day you laid eyes on her. Slowly but surely, it became your mission as well to save her, to free her from the curse of being a demon.

“I guess I’ll never be able to thank you enough for your support.”

You didn’t allow yourself to look at him, fully aware of that you’d get lost in his tender orbs again if you do. No, instead your eyes roamed about the glittering city to your feet, drifting over the facial expressions of the people underneath you.

“We’re friends, right? This is what friends do”, you murmured into the night.

Oh, you didn’t believe yourself a single word. What a filthy little lie to call Tanjiro a friend when all you are able to think about is his smell, when his voice is everything that lingers through your mind. Are friends supposed to think about one another constantly, to ponder about how their lips might feel pressed against each other? You promised yourself to never find out. After all, revealing your true feelings might scare him away forever. And losing Tanjiro all at once is definitely far worse than calling yourself his friend. After all, this would be impulsive with a not foreseeable outcome.

But even after you swore you’d never act out of a feeling, you find yourself sprinting into certain death.

It all happened faster than you expected. Inosuke managed to find Tengen’s wives and therefore the demon.

The upper moon six, to be exact.

The devilish who injured not only your friends, but Tanjiro as well. And now, she’s about to injure Nezuko as well.

Apart from your usual composed self, you find yourself dashing forward while grabbing the handle of your katana tightly. This is ridiculous, you don’t stand a chance against a demon like hair. Nezuko is a demon herself, she’d probably recover from her injuries.

You furrow your eyebrows, eyes fixated on both of them. It doesn’t matter right now. All you are able to think about is helping your friend.

“Get your filthy hands away from her”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

A well-placed hit. Your knee hits the ground roughly. Then everything around you is discoloured red.

Like in slow motion, you watch your own body sink onto the ground lifelessly. Your lungs feel like collapsing any given minute while you gasp for air like a fish on land. Blood takes your sight, drips down onto the already soaked floor while all you can do is watch in sheer horror as that hell of a demon grins at you.

“You did well until now. Dumb girl, why would you even think about defending a demon? Look how weak you are.”

The urge to cough becomes unbearable. Over and over, you spit out your own blood until your ribs feel like breaking. Did she hit you? Are you severely injured? Apart from your aching lungs, your body feels completely numb, almost lifeless. Like in slow motion, you watch as she walks towards you, the upper moon six emblem sparkling dreadfully in her eyes.

Is this your end?

What a senseless way to die when Nezuko is a demon. After all, even an upper moon wouldn’t be able to kill another demon without the right blade to do so. You never considered yourself so impulsive, so reckless.

Your eyes dart towards Tanjiro’s beloved sister who puts up a desperate fight against all the debris that buried her. Not everything needs to make sense.

It doesn’t make sense you decided to spare her life in the first place. It doesn’t make sense that you fell for her brother, that you allowed yourself feelings deeper than sympathy in a world full of cruelness and death. It doesn’t make sense that you decided to follow the sound hashira only to rescue his wives, that you actually considered going with him on your own.

All of that because you are so madly in love with Tanjiro. All of that because you view Nezuko as your own sister and could never allow another person to hurt her.

“What an ugly girl you are with your face twisted like that. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

You can hear your flesh bursting underneath another merciless hit of her belt, feel the throbbing pain that starts radiating through your bones. You will die right here and now, without any doubt. And you will die without seeing his face again, without telling him a single word about your true feelings.

“Don’t worry (y/n), I’m sure we’ll be fine! And as soon as we’re back, I’ll invite you to a bowl of ramen!”

A bowl of ramen?

Like in trance, you press your hand onto your leg, feel your busted flesh all too clearly, your very own blood slipping through your fingers.

Just like the love of your life.

“You need to get up.”

A distant voice in the back of your brain, muted by the constant ringing that takes over your ears.

“(y/n), can you hear me? You need to get up.”

Is Tanjiro still with Tengen-sama? They will manage to defeat those demons, you just know it. With the help of Inosuke, Zenitsu and Tengen-sama, Tanjiro will be alright. Who knows, maybe he’ll be a hashira in a week from now, maybe he’ll defeat Muzan Kibutsuji. Oh, what you’d give to hear that boy’s voice one last time, to witness his beaming smile again.

“She’s basically dead, idiot. Get lost so I can finish her.”

Are those hands lifting you off the ground or is your soul evaporating from your body?

“Please stay with me, (y/n). You need to keep on fighting.”

You allow your eyes for the briefest second. When you open them again, you barely miss how Nezuko catapults the upper moon six into a nearby building with full force. No, why would she risk to get hurt, what if that woman hurts her? It seems like you’re moving away from the scene and you’re unable to do anything apart from stretching out your shaky hand.

“No…I can’t…leave….”, you breathe out.

“Why did you risk your life like that? (y/n) you…you could be dead right now.”

That voice, it isn’t inside your head. No, someone is talking to you with an oh too familiar voice in a tone you know so well.

“Tanjiro.”

“I’m here, (y/n). And I promise everything will be alright? I just...don’t do something like that ever again, not even for Nezuko.”

Even though the sheer movement feels like breaking your own neck, you lift up your head enough to make sure this isn’t just a dream.

But his eyes are already set on you, filled with nothing but worry and threat while he carries you over the battlefield.

For a moment, time stands still. Just you and Tanjiro. No battlefield, no injuries, no demons. Just peace, love and Tanjiro.

Love.

“I love you”, you mutter so muted that he almost fails to understand.

You can feel his heartbeat picking up next to your throbbing head, watch how his eyes widen. Oh, how lovely they look in that red light, how easy it is to get lost in their gleam. What a waste of time it was to keep your feelings to yourself when all you were able to do was thinking about him. How lucky you are to feel your body pressed against his one last time.

One last time…

“I…so…tired…”

Desperately, you fight against the urge to close your eyes. You need to take this sight in for a little longer, need to stay awake at least for another minute. But your vision slowly but surely starts to get darker and darker until you can’t see him anymore.

“(y/n), don’t give up on me, not when I didn’t told you that-“

Nothingness.

-a week later-

“You should really start focus on getting back on your feet yourself, you know? It won’t help her if you don’t get better too”, the Kakushi next to him speaks out.

Since the moment he opened his eyes and realized that you aren’t awake, Tanjiro didn’t allow himself to leave your side. The last time he did that was at the entertainment district. The last time he did that you almost lost your precious life over defending his sister.

“I will stay just a little longer”, he mumbles lost in thoughts.

You always loved Nezuko dearly despite being a demon. Even though your logical thinking and composed acting, you accepted her as the human she was before and supported him in finding a cure for his sister. Still…

He runs his fingers through his hair roughly, frustration almost taking over him. Tanjiro never expected you to almost sacrifice your precious life for his sister. Not when she’s fighting against a demon, not when two upper moons are your opponents. No one would have doubted you, would have judged you for staying in safety. Nezuko would have never allowed you to interfere if she could, just like him.

“I should have arrived sooner. I should have been right by her side all the time. Maybe none of this would have happened if I kept an eye on her like I promised…”

“Don’t be a fool, she would have never allowed you to stay by her side knowing that it might cost the success of the mission. Still, I didn’t expect someone like her to act so reckless. Who’s your sister doing?”, the man opposite of Tanjiro replies.

“She’s been crying the whole time.”

“Did she finally wake up?”, Inosuke suddenly blurts out while entering the room on his own.

“She’s still unconscious”, Tanjiro explains briefly.

“Did you put that horrible bandage around her head? Before you came here, it looked alright”, the Kakushi interferes dryly.

“With the power of master Inosuke, (y/n) will be back on her feet in no time!”

“H…Hello?”

When your eyes flutter open, you get greeted by 3 pairs of excited eyes in an instant, your clouded mind still unable to process that you’re awake.

“Where am I?”, you croak with your throat feeling like sandpaper.

“I will call Shinobu-sama right away”, the Kakushi announces and gets up with a swift motion.

“You’re at the butterfly estate, dumbass”, Inosuke barks at you.

“(y/n)….I was so worried about you!”

Before you’re able to react any further, you find yourself emerged by green and black fabric, surrounded by a scent you know so well by now.

“Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Over and over, you whimper his name like a prayer in order to convince yourself that this is real. You didn’t die. You are still alive. And right now, none other than Tanjiro Kamado holds you in his arms as tenderly as you always imagined. Is it a dream, maybe? A sweet hallucination to get you through the immense pain?

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. All of this, only to stand up for my sister. Words can’t express how worried I was. How is it possible that this made me realize how much I-“

“You’re finally awake, how relieving. Would you mind moving to the side so that I’m able to examine (y/n), Tanjiro-san?”

That voice as sweet as honey belongs to Shinobu Kocho, without any doubt.

“S-Sure.”

“You really fought well, (y/n). Surviving that long with such severe injuries took its toll on your body, though. All of this because you wanted to protect Tanjiro’s sister?”

Her skilled hands begin roaming around your skin while you feel her gaze fixated on you. But you cannot look at Shinobu-san right now. No, your eyes are locked with those of Tanjiro next to you.

“They both mean the world to me”, you murmur.

He lets out his breath visibly while taking a step towards you. What is that glimmer in his eyes? Sorrow, dread?

Or maybe affection?

“How unusual for you to act this reckless. But maybe this is what love makes us do, right? I will leave you two alone for now. How about you’re taking a look outside? The sunset looks lovely today. But please use a wheelchair since your leg is still shattered.”

With a last bright smile, the insect pillar is gone in the wind again, leaving you alone with Tanjiro in a suddenly so tensed room.

“What do you think?  Do you want to watch the sunset with me?”, Tanjiro questions with low voice.

“I would love to.”

As careful as ever, he lifts you off the bed and places you into the wheelchair before gently guiding you outside.

Your eyes get greeted by the prettiest red you’ve ever seen covering the whole sky. Like a painting, the beautiful scenery lays itself in front of your eyes. Shinobu-san’s flowers painted in the colors of the sky, the fluffy clouds that look so comfortable from afar.

But what mesmerizes you way more than that is the striking sight next to you, the boy you loved in silence since you first saw him. With his face lit by the downgoing sun and the ever so slight blush that creeps up his face while looking at you, you can’t help but get lost.

“Maybe I needed this”, he speaks out.

You blink a few times, still tired mind trying to process the meaning of his words.

“What?”

There is it. His usual beaming smile, the optimistic glimmer inside his gorgeous orbs. Careful not to hurt you he grabs your hand and gently strokes it while kneeling down next to you. Is this really happening? Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, reminds you urgently that you are definitely still alive. Why would Tanjiro Kamado get onto his knees for you?

“You.”

An answer so simple and yet so intimate that you can’t help but blush as well. Like in slow motion, you watch as he draws closer and closer until his face is only inches away from yours.

“I love you, (y/n). I guess I was too dumb to realize it until I saw you injured like that because you protected my sister. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The words leave your mouth just in time before he places his soft lips onto yours, making all your dreams come true with one innocent kiss.

You always acted well-thought and composed. But oh, what a plot twist it was to follow your heart twice in a row.

-bonus-

“Did…Shinobu-san put this around my head?”, you question while staring blankly at your messy hair and the wild bandadge around your head.

“The insect girl? Of course it was me! You wouldn’t even be awake if it wasn’t for me! But don’t worry, you can worship me later”, Inosuke replies while stretching out his chest in full proud.

“You look…”

“Well…”

“I mean…”

None of the three girls dare to raise their voices at him whereas you stare yourself up and down. Of course, it was Inosuke. Shinobu-san would never stitch you up like that.

“Do you want…Kanao to fix this?”, one of them finally suggests quietly.

“Yeah….I guess that would be pretty nice.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu

[biteyoubiteme]

Omg congrats on 1k!!!

Soobin in the killa and gbgb performances have been killing me lately.. 🫠🫠 can i request a fic where reader goes down on him after his performance for either of these songs? Seriously never wanted to drop to my knees and suck a dick this badly in my life before this man 😵‍💫

baby, now, now, now, now

soobin x gn!reader

synopsis: he just looks too hot after a performance.

warnings: 🔞!!! oral (m!rec) prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1k

an: thank you so much! it was actually so hard to pick between gbgb and the killa for this lol but these photos spoke to me and picked themselves out. I go crazy watching these performances so I get you on a deeply personal and spiritual level okay and I rewatched the killas stage so many time to get inspo for this and omfg thank you for this ask I love watching that stage. but I hope you like this! not proofread forgive me sweet angel im forever indebted to you

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

It was not the first time you’ve seen the performance but it was the first time you’ve been there in person. This was entirely different from all the practices you’ve sat in on, every misstep followed by yeonjuns guidance, the soft laughs shared between the people in the room aiding the relaxed feel of the studio. 

But here, sitting in the little private suite overlooking the stage you’re at a loss for words. No one should look that hot on stage, not even your own boyfriend. Maybe it’s the lights that hit soobin just right, the way they keep catching his hair; shiny with sweat. The big screen zoomed into every detail, black tank top stuck to his skin, his bicep flexing just enough to make the wrap around his arm look as if it would pop off from the force. 

It’s enough to make the crowd go wild, the echoing cheers and screams louder than you imagined them. Every single one of them fawning over the way he looks, the way he moves, so in sync with yeonjun. It's almost impossible not to keep your eyes trained on soobins hips. Shirt cut just long enough to reach the waistband of his pants, just short enough so that every time he moved his arms or rolled his body it lifted up, exposing his midriff. Watching them dance during practice, Soobin was mostly dressed in sweats and a hoodie, unbothered by appearances when no one was around to see. Now here it's the opposite, your mouth watering at the way he's moving. 

You're familiar with the way his hips move without anyone around, here with everyone watching it only makes jealousy bubble up for a second. And when he stretches back, arms above his head, so much of his skin on display for the camera to catch. It was addicting to witness. 

When the two of you finally met backstage soobin couldn't tell if you were angry or tired. Never did he expect you to lead him over to the nearest dressing room, the lock twisted before you pushed him against the door. 

“I'm all sweaty,” he chuckles, hands instinctively on your body already, head rolling back as he lets you kiss up his neck. 

“I don't care,” you mutter, hand reaching down to palm him over his pants. 

It took very little for him to get hard when it came to you. Just knowing you were watching him set his nerves aflame, but he worked so well under the slight pressure. He knew what got to you, knew the possibility of this very thing happening now, he could scope your neediness as easily as he could his own, both of you tethered together in that department just fine. 

When you got down on your knees before him, fumbling with the button on his pants, he was whimpering, and already praying no one would walk past and hear him. The second you got your hands on him he was moaning in the back of his throat, pursing his lips as if that would help any with the sound. 

You don't even have to work to build up any spit, your mouth watering on its own just having his pretty cock in front of you. Your thumb rubbed over his slit, spreading the beading precum around his pink tip. “You looked so good out there,” you say in between kisses along his shaft, “performing so well I couldn't stop thinking about sucking you off,” 

You trace your fingertips across his veins, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes. “You sounded so pretty on stage, will you make sure to let me hear you while I make you feel good?” 

He doesn't even get to finish his nod before your mouth is on him, so hot and wet he can't help the moan that leaves him. You hum in response, the vibration traveling up his spine and down his knees. He could buckle under the feeling alone, your free hand not circling what does not fit into your mouth is wrapped around his balls adding enough pressure to make him see stars. 

Reaching out to the door handle for leverage, he needs anything to keep himself up, his head rolling back as you try to take him deeper down your throat. Even just the wet sounds of your working mouth makes his thighs tremble. 

You move to pull away for only a second, enough so that you can go back to using both your hands when he pushes his hand into your hair. “No please don’t stop,” he whines pushing you back down onto his cock. You give a muffled yelp that has him moaning when he hits the back of your throat, so slick with your saliva he pumps in and out of your waiting mouth with ease. You don't even care about not breathing, on the cusp of just about to choke and pure bliss as he uses you. His hips work just as well as you knew they would, your hands wrapping around his thighs to help keep yourself still for him as he thrusts. 

He's a mess of whimpers as he feels his orgasm build, your nails digging into the fabric of his pants, “oh god- I’m about to cum- I’m- I’m cumming- I’m-” he lets your head go as he cums, body slumping against the door as his cock twitches on your tongue, mouth flooding with his release, the saltiness so familiar to you as you swallow.

When you pull away his cock is slick with your spit, rivulets still connecting you to him as you giggle. You give him a few loose tugs, his hips jerking back at the stimulation to his sensitive tip where you place light kisses. 

He reaches out to brush his thumb across your cheek, tracing it down to rub at your just fucked red lips. “You're so good to me, what did I ever do to deserve this mouth?”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! also a little thank you to @beomiracles for looking at this and not letting me set myself on fire over it

[back2bluesidex]

Girl Crush - MYG

Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here.

Read the follow-up drabble, Afterglow.

Pairing: Husband!Yoongi X Wife!Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au, arrange marriage au

Wordcount: 1.5k+

Summary: It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at.

Based on Girl Crush by Harry Styles (Cover).

Warnings: unhappy marriage, unrequited love, yoongi loves someone else. this is very painful.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I had this idea sitting on my head for a long time now. Thanks to @jimintaemin for requesting this and giving me a chance of writing this. This is very angsty just as you wanted. Hope you like this. Hit me back with your feedback!:)

“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”

“I assume you already know that this is a marriage of convenience, a negotiation between two companies. And I hope you will not expect anything from me. As long as it’s about responsibilities, I am okay with those. But don’t expect anything more.” Min Yoongi had said, cold and stoic, as if not conversing but stating some flat facts related to stock prices. 

He was not wrong. Whatever he had said are indeed facts and there was nothing you didn’t already know.

So you stood there, standing as still as a porcelain doll, ready to fall and break at any given moment. 

“And just so you know… I have someone.” he finished, diverting his eyes from you even though he never really looked at you properly. 

Although you were glad that he didn’t. You were more than happy that he didn’t witness tears rolling down your face, gathering below your chin and dropping down at the immaculate fabric of your wedding gown. 

Do tears leave stains? You hoped that was not the case. 

It’s not that you pictured a fairytale married life for you. You know arranged marriages come with more cons than pros. You knew you would have to pay the price.. but at the same time you had no choice. You were even more reluctant to do anything because it was him. 

It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at. 

It was foolish for you to expect a man of his stature would not have someone to love, to be loved by. And it was even more foolish for you to think, you can be his wife, a real one.. and lead a life with him. 

However, now you know it’s impossible. And the realization made you feel helpless, caged and broken. 

“I won’t expect anything, I promise, but in return… Can we at least be friends? It will make things easy for both of us.” you’d uttered upon managing your voice and emotions. 

Only then he looked at you, like really looking at you with a small smile playing on his lips, he’d said “sure.”  

That was the moment you realized you had a girl crush. And it was the woman who managed to make Yoongi, your husband, fall in love. 

“I got it real bad.. Want everything she has That smile and that midnight laugh.. She's giving you now.” 

You thought, you would be angry. You thought every possible darkness would cover your senses, when you’d meet her for the first time. 

But wrong… you were. 

You had so many prejudices about this woman and you hated her with every drop of blood your body owns but all of it evaporated in thin air when she smiled at you standing right at your and yoongi’s door. 

She is beautiful, she is kind, she is loveable… and maybe everything else you can’t ever be. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I never thought I was going to see Yoongi ever again.” she’d murmured as she stood close to you in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you three. 

You had stared into her eyes then.. Trying to find mockery and a hint of brazen victory telling you, “you��re only his paper wife. I own his heart.” 

But again.. Again you were disappointed. 

In her eyes, there was no mockery, no pretense, no dishonesty.. Rather only understanding and kindness. Only then you understood why Yoongi loves her so much. 

Why will it never be you and always be her.  

That night as you stood at the balcony, enjoying the stinging sensation cold wind brought to you, you heard them laughing.

It was the first time you heard Min Yoongi laughing. Even though faint and muffled, you could still sense his happiness through the sound. 

Min Yoongi was finally happy... for the first time since the wedding ceremony... and you were not the reason. 

All of a sudden, you were jealous again, even though you were not sure if you had the right or not. 

“I want to taste her lips… Yeah, 'cause they taste like you I want to drown myself… In a bottle of her perfume”

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you invited her to your and Yoongi’s honeymoon. 

Both of your and his parents have been pestering you to set out for the trip. You have been using excessive workload as the excuse and you assumed Yoongi to do the same.

But a week ago, everything went south when Yoongi had a fight with his father. As a result, flights were booked, accommodations were chosen and you two were notified only two days prior. 

That night, Yoongi didn’t come back home. And when he did, he didn’t speak a single word to you. 

The visible frown on his forehead and the cold aura that oozed from him, made you want to make him smile, made you invite his lover to the trip secretly.  

She was already there when you two reached and you will never forget Yoongi’s reaction when he realized what was happening. 

The grumpy cold Yoongi broke into gummy smiles and giggles as soon as he saw her. They kissed right in front of your eyes and you silently cried. 

Oh how you wish, you could taste him too. How you wish, he would hold you like that, caress you like that. 

How you wish… he would love you like that. 

“I want her long blond hair… I want her magic touch Yeah, 'cause maybe then… You'd want me just as much”

 “Babe, could you please turn your head a little? Yes.. yes just like that.” 

You watched the man as he clicked photos after photos of the woman he loves, seemingly trying to document her beauty for a long long time.  

You watched her as her long blond hair flowed like a waterfall down her shoulder, wind ruffling it gently making her look even more beautiful. 

“Let’s take a selfie, will you?” she shouted at him and he chuckled. 

He buried his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, he said, “you smell so nice.”

You wondered, what she smelled like, what perfume did she use to make Yoongi look this satisfied. You even considered asking her, purchasing a bottle and drowning yourself in one of those if that means Yoongi would love to smell you too, he would curl himself around you late at night. If that means Yoongi would want you, just as much. 

“I don't get no sleep… I don't get no peace Thinking about her.. Under your bed sheets”

“Where are you going?” confusion dripped through Yoongi’s voice. You stopped at your tracks and turned to face him. 

“I will sleep in the other room. You two should have your space. I will send her in as soon as I am there.” you smiled at him, even though your heart bleed invisibly inside your chest at the thought of how they would spend the night together. 

“No, Y/N. We will adjust. You sleep here in the suite.” Yoongi commented, as firm as a verdict, as he stepped towards where you stood. 

“But Yoongi, I am alone, what would I do with all this space?” you sighed. You definitely didn’t want to be left alone at the honeymoon suite, decorated for the newlyweds. You hate it. Totally loathe the decorations. Those giant red hearts had been mocking you since the moment you stepped there. You might tear those to pieces if you were left there alone, raising endless questions regarding such an act. 

“You have done enough. You have done much more than you needed to and I feel like I’m taking advantage of your kindness. So, please… stay here. Enjoy the stay. We will manage.” giving you one of his tight lipped smiles, Yoongi slipped out of the room to spend the night with his lover. 

That night when you slid inside the covers, which smelled awfully like him because he took a nap earlier in the evening, you started breaking down. 

Your hopes, your dreams, and your heart all started crumbling right before your eyes. You held the duvet tightly around yourself and pretended it was yoongi wrapped around you, it was Yoongi, whispering sweet things in your ear, it was Yoongi, telling you that he loved you. 

Somewhere you knew, Yoongi is actually doing all these things in real-time but.. Not to you.. Not for you. 

You closed your eyes, tears streamed down your cheeks and wetted the pillow. You imagined your life as her… as your girl crush… as the woman your husband, Min Yoongi, loves. 

“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”

[stylesispunk]

'I love you, it's ruining my life' | Part ii

Joel Miller x f!reader

part one | part three

summary: The aftermath of your confession and how all it ended, for now.

w.c: 3,9k

warnings: angst and just angst. Perhaps grammar mistakes cuz even when I edited the chapter, I tend to be stupid.

a/n: As I promised, part 2 is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave it to the first part, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. This part will not be the end, so a third part is already in the works to end this mini story since I had to talk about the aftermath of the events in part 1 and I couldn't fit everything here, you know. Part iii may have a time jump. Happy ending or sad ending for these two?? Make your bets after reading this part. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

After what had just happened, you closed the door of your house with a slam, as if that would help you to silence the thump of your heart cracking with anguish. You didn't even get to savor the taste of Joel's lips on yours; they felt tainted by poison and treason creeping from the unfaithful actions of two people in a vulnerable state. You felt completely dirty by your actions; the tears streamed down your face, washing the warm hands of Joel over your checks away, with the salty rustling of his skin on yours.

After a few seconds, you recovered your composure, inhaling the smell of your soon-to-be ex-home. You looked around your living room; there were boxes containing all the memories you had made for the last eight years of your life inside, saved from the postmortem state. All the days, seconds, and years seemed illicit and foreign, and you could not stop crying.

You sat by the door, head on your knees, next to the window, stealing glimpses of a frantic Joel, who was now walking towards his car, getting away from you for real. Your heart broke even more because you knew that your confession didn’t matter and that you were destined to recall things you never did. He had made his choice. He was going to get married to another woman, and you weren’t going to witness such torture. 

You stood from the ground towards your bedroom, still crying from the hope you had that he was going to love you that way, but he didn't, and you couldn't blame him. He was a good man, one who knew how to love but not how to receive, or perhaps he didn’t want it from you.

As you retreated to your bedroom, the weight of your actions bore down on you like a crushing wave. Each step felt heavier than the last, burdened by the knowledge that you had irreversibly altered the course of your life and Joel's.

The tears continued to flow unabated, leaving a trail of salty bitterness in their wake. You collapsed onto your bed, the sheets offering little solace from the storm raging within you.

When you made your way upstairs, you didn’t know that Joel turned back towards your house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you again. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Guilt gnawed at him like a relentless beast, tearing apart his insides with every breath. He couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with its weight.

Every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn back, to run as far away from the mess he had created as possible. But something, perhaps a glimmer of hope or a desperate longing for closure, propelled him forward, urging him to face the consequences of his actions.

You loved him, and he loved you too. He had waited to hear those words for so many years, and now they felt like treason, and he felt like a villain.

With a trembling hand, he opened the door of this car and drove towards Tess’s house, not knowing this would be the last time you would be sleeping next to his house.

As Joel arrived at Tess's house, he was greeted by the warm glow of the porch light and the familiar scent of her perfume wafting through the air. But instead of feeling comforted by her presence, he couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled over him like a dark cloud.

As he stepped inside, Tess's worried expression immediately caught his attention. She approached him with a furrowed brow, her eyes searching his face for answers.

"Joel, I'm so glad you're here," she said, her voice tinged with concern.

“Of course, what seemed to be so urgent?”

"I...I called you because I needed to talk to you about something." She spoke.

Joel's heart skipped a beat as he listened to her words, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a heavy weight in his chest.

"What is it, Tess?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tess took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she spoke. "I couldn't shake this feeling, Joel. The thought of you spending the night after our wedding with...with her," she paused, unable to bring herself to say your name. "It just didn't sit right with me.” She paused, “We’re getting married tomorrow, and I just need to know that she won’t ruin our lives.”

“Why would she?” Joel asked, feeling an urgent desire to defend you.

Tess hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she struggled to find the right words. "I don't know, Joel. It's just that there's always been something between you two. Something I can't quite put my finger on."

Joel's heart sank at her words, the weight of guilt settling heavier upon him. He felt his heart exploding from the shame. He looked down at his hands, taking his time to gather all his courage and act like a man.

“I kissed her.” He confessed, and the silence sliced the skin of both. “I kissed her because I wanted to do it.”

As Joel uttered those words, a heavy silence descended upon the room, thick with the weight of his confession. Tess's eyes widened in shock, her hands trembling as she struggled to process the revelation.

The air hung heavy with tension as Joel's words echoed in the space between them, the truth of his betrayal leaving a bitter taste in the air. He could feel Tess's gaze boring into him, her expression a mix of disbelief and hurt.

"I... okay," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "We’ll pretend it didn’t happen, but she is not coming to the wedding, and you won’t see her again.”

Her attempts to mend an already broken trust were being stabbed with a knife.

"She won't because there won't be a wedding, Tess," Joel said, his voice filled with resignation. "I can't go through with it, not like this. Not when I know that I've already destroyed any chance we had at happiness. Not when I don’t know what I feel.”

Tess's eyes widened in shock at his words, her heart lurching painfully in her chest. She had never imagined that their love could unravel so completely and that the future they had planned together could crumble before her eyes.

“And you deserved a man who didn’t put his love for you in doubt when the woman he waited to love confessed her feelings to him,” Joel said.

Tears welled up in Tess's eyes as she looked at Joel, her voice trembling with emotion. "I...I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the weight of their shattered dreams.

Joel reached out to her, his hand trembling as he gently brushed away her tears. "I'm sorry, Tess," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... don't know what I want anymore."

Tess felt a surge of anger rise within her at Joel's words, the pain of his betrayal still raw and fresh in her heart. But beneath the anger, there was also a sense of resignation, a realization that their love had been built on shaky ground from the start.

"And what about her?" Tess asked, her voice tinged with bitterness. "What about her? Do you know what you want with her?"

Joel looked away, unable to meet Tess's gaze. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know anything anymore."

Tess felt a lump form in her throat at Joel's words, and the next thing Joel felt was a slap on his cheek.

Joel felt a pang of sorrow shoot through his heart at Tess's action, as if all her resentment had consumed him with the hit of her hand on his skin. Tess turned away before he could even realize it. Withit tears streaming down her cheeks, Joel knew that he had lost her for good. And though it pained him to admit it, he knew deep down that he deserved every bit of her anger and resentment.

And his thoughts drifted to you. For him, it was a feeling in his heart at the thought of not having you in his life anymore.

He had broken the hearts of two women last night, and he couldn't bear that feeling.

Joel woke up at noon the next day. There wasn't going to be a wedding that day. He had told Tess he had kissed you because he felt it. There were tears, yelling, slurs screaming at him, and even a slap when it was completely deserved.

He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of the previous night playing out in his mind like a never-ending loop. The tears, the yelling, the slap—it all echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.

Joel knew that there wasn't going to be a wedding that day and that the future he had envisioned with Tess had been shattered beyond repair. And as he lay there in the silence of his empty house, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of emptiness.

But even as his heart ached with longing, Joel knew that he had to face the consequences of his actions. He had hurt Tess, shattered her trust, and broken her heart, and he couldn't ignore the pain he had caused.

With a heavy sigh, Joel dragged himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, the bitter taste doing little to chase away the bitter taste of regret that lingered in his mouth.

As he sipped his coffee, Joel knew he had a long road ahead of him. He had to find a way to make amends and earn back the trust and forgiveness of those he had wronged. And amidst it all, he vowed to do whatever it took to hold onto the love he felt for you and to fight for a future where you could be together, despite the odds stacked against them.

Joel had met Tess two years ago. At first, it was something cosmic and faster, like spending some time together after he had fixed her house, but then the pages between them started to get written and Joel began to spend less time with you. You tried to dismiss the gut-wrenching feeling consuming your void inside, but you promised him to take care of Sarah, while he had taken the chance to bet on love once again.

He deserved it, but you wanted to be the one, and you consumed yourself into your own pity just for one glimpse of his smile, hoping someday he would notice you that way.

It was two months later when Joel invited you to meet Tess for the first time. As you stepped into the cozy café where they had arranged to meet, a pang of bittersweet emotion tugged at your heart. You couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at you, knowing that Joel was introducing you to someone who could potentially become his wife someday.

Despite the ache in your chest, you plastered on your best smile, determined to be supportive for Joel's sake. After all, you had promised to always be there for him, no matter what.

As Tess walked in, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joel, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. They were already sharing a secret language you would never get to understand. She was everything you weren't—beautiful, confident, and effortlessly charming. And as Joel introduced you to her, the weight of his hand on your shoulder felt like a silent reassurance, a reminder of the bond you shared as best friends.

You exchanged pleasantries with Tess, forcing yourself to push aside the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. You laughed at her jokes, engaged in small talk, and did your best to be the supportive friend that Joel needed you to be.

But beneath the façade of your smiles and laughter, your heart ached with a sense of loss. You were already grieving your friendship with Joel, as if you were feeling the distance growing between you both, as if his introduction of Tess marked the beginning of a new chapter—one where you would no longer be his sole confidante and companion.

And as you watched Joel and Tess interact, their laughter mingling in the air like a melody of happiness, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to stand in her shoes—to be the one who captured Joel's heart and made him smile in that way.

But despite the ache in your chest, you pushed aside your own desires and fears, burying them beneath layers of friendship and loyalty. Because in that moment, all that mattered was Joel's happiness, even if it meant sacrificing a piece of your own.

You made sacrifices for the people you loved.

As Joel's thoughts drifted back to the present, he tried to recall all the times he missed the way you glanced at him full of love, and he didn’t even notice. Even when he was the one looking out beyond the simple glimpses,.

He felt like a fool. Joel sat in the quiet solitude of his house, contemplating the light of the sun creeping through the window. His thoughts drifted to you once again and again. He knew that he needed to come to talk to you later to make amends for the pain he had caused and perhaps even begin to write a new chapter in your relationship. But deep down, he also knew that he needed time to heal himself and mend the wounds of his own heart before he could hope to repair the damage he had done to yours.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel was jolted back to reality when the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Turning his head, he watched as Tommy stepped into the house, a tired Sarah sleeping in his arms. The pitying glance that Tommy shot him didn't go unnoticed, a silent reminder of the wreckage of his almost-married life.

Joel offered a weak smile in return, his heart heavy with the weight of his own guilt and remorse. He knew that he had let everyone down—Tess, you, and even himself—and he couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment that hung over him like a dark cloud.

But as he watched Tommy and Sarah disappear into the other room, Joel knew that he couldn't wallow in self-pity forever. He had to find a way to pick up the pieces of his broken life and move forward, even if the road ahead seemed daunting and uncertain.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel didn't notice when Tommy returned to the living room, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. "Hey, Joel, why didn't you tell me?" Tommy asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Joel blinked, snapping out of his reverie as he turned to face Tommy. "Tell you what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Why didn't you tell me that “bubu” was moving out?" Tommy clarified; his tone was laced with concern. "I saw the moving truck leaving.

Joel's heart sank at Tommy's words, a wave of realization washing over him. He remembered now—the conversation from last night, your tearful confession that you were leaving for good. "She couldn’t be serious," he had whispered, the words heavy with disbelief and desperation.

Without another word, Joel stepped away from the couch, his movements heavy with purpose as he made his way towards the door. Ignoring Tommy's calls behind him, he pushed open the door and stepped outside, only to be met with the emptiness of your house next door.

The sight of your empty home, stripped bare of all its memories, hit Joel like a punch to the gut. The realization that you were truly gone, that he had let you slip through his fingers without a fight, left him feeling hollow and alone.

With a heavy heart, Joel sank to his knees on the doorstep, the weight of his regrets crushing him beneath their unbearable burden. And as he gazed up at the empty windows of your house, he couldn't help but wonder if he had lost you forever.

It was a warm summer afternoon when Sarah said her first word. You, Joel, and Sarah were lounging in the living room, playing with her favorite toys.

As Sarah babbled and cooed, her tiny hands reaching out to grasp at the colorful shapes before her, you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and wonder wash over you. Watching her grow and learn had become a highlight of your days, a bright spot in an otherwise ordinary existence.

“Bubu”

Joel's face lit up with pride and joy as he scooped up his daughter, a mixture of awe and amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Did she just say her first word?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder.

You couldn't help but laugh at Joel's playful jealousy, knowing that he was only teasing. "Oh my god, baby!" you cooed, reaching out to gently stroke Sarah's soft cheek. "You're just too clever for your own good, aren't you?"

"Bubu," Sarah repeated, her eyes sparkling with innocence as she reached out towards you, her chubby fingers grasping at the air.

"I can't believe she didn't say 'father' first," Joel joked, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckled at Joel's comment, feeling a surge of warmth fill your heart at the playful banter between father and daughter. "Don't be jealous, Joel," you teased, giving him a gentle nudge. "I'm 'Bubu'—that's a tough title to beat!"

And as Sarah continued to babble and coo, her laughter filling the room with its infectious joy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging there.

From that moment on, "Bubu" became your nickname, a term of endearment that Joel had bestowed upon you in honor of Sarah's first word.

And though the years had passed since that day and Sarah had long outgrown her baby talk, the nickname had stuck. It had become a symbol of the bond you shared with Joel and her, a reminder of the love and affection that had blossomed between you over the years.

Back in the present, Joel sat alone in his bedroom, the weight of his regrets heavy on his shoulders. The memories of the events that had unfolded in recent days weighed heavily on his mind, filling him with a sense of profound sorrow and remorse.

As he sat in the quiet solitude of his living room, Joel couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that seemed to permeate the air around him. The absence of your presence in his life had already left a void that seemed impossible to fill, a gaping wound that refused to heal.

And your letter on his hands weighs like the steam of a rose, making his hands bleed as the words written on it punctuate deep wounds in them.

“Joel,

As I sit down to write this letter, my heart feels heavy with the weight of everything that has happened between us. There are so many words I want to say and so many apologies I want to offer, but I know that mere words can never truly express the depth of my regret and remorse.

I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you and that every choice I made was made out of fear and confusion. But I know that my actions have caused you pain too, and for that, I am truly sorry.

I know that things between us may never be the same again and that the trust we once shared may be irreparably damaged. But I need time and space to heal and to find a way to live my life away from you.

I want you to know that I love you, Joel, more than words could ever express. You have been my rock, my confidant, and my closest friend, and the thought of losing you fills me with a pain that is almost too much to bear. My biggest expression of love is letting you go.

Please know that I will always cherish the memories we shared together, the laughter, the tears, and the moments of joy and sorrow that we experienced side by side. And no matter what the future may hold, those memories will always hold a special place in my heart.

I hope that one day we will be able to look back on this time with a sense of gratitude, knowing that it was the challenges we faced together that ultimately brought us closer. Until then, know that you are always in my thoughts, in my heart, and in my prayers. And know that no matter what happens, I will always love you, now and forever.

Have a wonderful wedding and a happy marriage with Tess. I hope you know you deserve to be loved.

I’ll miss you and Sarah so much."

With all my love,

Bubu or you can just call me by my real name now.

As Joel read the words of your letter, each sentence pierced his heart like a dagger, reopening wounds that had barely begun to heal. The weight of your words pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket, leaving him feeling numb and hollow inside.

He hadn’t gotten married, and you thought he had. You left thinking he got married to another woman.

The realization that you were truly gone, that you had made the agonizing decision to leave him behind, sent a wave of despair crashing over him. He felt as though the ground had been pulled out from beneath him, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty and pain.

Tears welled up in Joel's eyes as he read the final lines of your letter, your words of farewell echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain. The emptiness of your absence loomed large in the room, a stark reminder of all that he had lost.

With trembling hands, Joel clutched the letter to his chest, as if holding onto it could somehow keep you from slipping away from him completely. But deep down, he knew that no amount of pleading or begging could change your mind, that you had made your decision, and there was nothing he could do to change it for now.

You were truly the biggest loss of his life; there was too much to grieve and yet so much to hold onto. He was going to go back for you, but he had to heal that part of him that pushed you away from him and let you find yourself before he could come back into your life again.

.......

I'm tagging people who asked me and those who asked for a part 2, if you want to be removed you can tell me 💌

💌 taggs: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller

[yandereend]

Yandere Househusband

The wedding

P. 2/?

TW : normal yandere stuff, dubcon, reader is into it?, Tyler talks about children, both are like 18 or 19

Btw English is not my first language so please keep that in mind

🩵Also thanks to everyone who wrote nice comments under the first post🩵

You sometimes watched those trashy shows about the bridezillas who were obsessed with their weddings and made everyones live hell. Like many people you hopped to never be in a situation like this. But here you were sitting besides your fiancé while he discusses flower arrangements, acting like a giant brat.

Is it so hard to put together bouquets with ALL pink flowers?!

Sir we dont have enough pink lillies for all your decorations. You should reconsider some of your choices-

I‘m surrounded by idiots!! My spouse wanted pink lillies so i don’t care if you don’t have them stocked!! Just buy them!

That would be even more expen-

Just do it !!!

And with that Tyler took your hand and you both exited the flower shop. It was almost comical how such a small thing could affect a grown man so much, but hey it’s his day. Tyler had a big pout on his face so that called for your attention and pampering.

Tyler don’t be upset.

But its our day my darling, everything should be perfect! We spend so much time picking out your (suit/dress/whatever you want its your wedding) and my suit. The flowers have to match or everything was for nothing my dear!

Not everything has to be perfect.

Oh yes it does! Have you never been on pinterest ?

That was the whole wedding planning in a nutshell , just an avid pinterest user placing together the wedding of their dreams( yandere style). Sometimes it was cute seeing Tyler being so invested in the wedding, other times it was more than annoying to cater to his perfectionism.

You also often thought about how quickly things progressed. I mean you just graduated high school and are already engaged and working for your fiancés father. Tylers father, Eric, was a great boss, you often wondered why people were scared of him. It’s just your nice father in law! Always explaining everything to you and hyping you up as the next in line of the family business. I mean you’re almost a part of it.

And Tylers mother, Ramona, was the same, always acting like she’s your real mother and caring for you. Not to mention Tyler himself. You were not suprised when he didn’t went out to look for a job or university, he always promoted the idea of a traditional family with you as the breadwinner in the center. And hey, his parents gifted you a house as an engagement gift, so its safe to say that you wont suffer in the presence of those saints.

At least that’s what you thought of them, little did you know that they were the reason why most of your friends cut contact and your family hardly called after you moved out. But hey who needs them anyways.

So while all these thoughts ran through your mind here you were, walking down the aisle with your father and finally seeing the man of your dreams in his perfectly tailored suit and styled hair, with tears in his eyes witnessing your beauty.

Your wedding vow was rather short but still packed with the love you felt for your husband. And after he put himself together, because of his happy tears, he read the most beautiful wedding vow you ever heard touching your heart and everyone else’s in the chapel. So when you finally get to put the rings on each other’s fingers you both stand up there with tears in your eyes.

And when you both finally unite in a grand kiss your fate was finally sealed. Tyler had you finally completely in his grasp, even if you didn’t realize it. And he,as well as his family, will never let you go. So enjoy your wedding party with your family and friends, you won’t get to see them any longer my dear.

Till death do you apart.

🩵Thanks a lot I hope you enjoyed it, I am planning on making this a series so please comment ideas for your life with your new husband 🩵

[navybrat817]

Hollow

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal fingering, dirty talk, slight use of knife, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Fic #7 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Newlywed Mob!Bucky won the poll.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A different side of Bucky came out when the leaves began to change. Subtle, but different. It wasn't noticeable to most since he showed people what he wanted them to see. It was a skill he perfected over the years, almost as if he wore a mask to hide his true self. What you saw, however, was ice in his eyes, the same that no doubt ran through his veins. Something weighed on his heart and mind.

You were determined to get to the bottom of it.

As his partner, it wasn't just your job to chase his demons away, but a need to protect him from whatever haunted or hunted him. You wanted to soothe him and let him know he wasn't alone. You knew if the roles were reversed that he'd eliminate anything or anyone that removed the light from your eyes. To have someone that loved you that much was still a bit of a dream.

How thin is the line between love and obsession?

“I can hear you thinking from here, Printsessa,” Bucky said. He knew you were watching him as he sat in his study, even as he focused on something else in front of him. He didn’t turn his back to anyone, except for you. He knew you would never put a knife in it. That was how much faith and trust he had in you. “Don’t want to join me?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” you replied, walking further into the room so you could get a better look at him. He had the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up, giving you a moment to admire his metal left arm and the tattoos on the right. He commanded the room without standing.

“It's never an interruption if it's you,” he reminded you.

He twirled one of his signature knives between his fingers before he went back to work. The love of your life was an expert in many weapons, but had an affinity for knives. While it didn’t surprise you to find the head of the Bratva with a weapon in hand, you hadn’t expected to see a pumpkin in front of him. “Pumpkin carving? You’re just full of surprises.”

He snorted a little. “I like that I can surprise you.”

Watching him start to carve a pattern in the pumpkin with ease, his eyes narrowed in concentration and hand moving with care, was like a dance. He led with confidence and control. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

“Do you know why some people carve pumpkins?”

You finally took a seat beside him on the sofa, resting a hand on his thigh. His muscles relaxed and you wondered what had him so tense. “I think most do it today to decorate, but some do it to ward off evil spirits,” you said, moving your hand in slow, circular motions as he hummed in acknowledgement. “Is someone haunting you? Do I need to scare them away?”

He tilted his head, a glimmer of pride flickering in his blue eyes as he smiled. “You’d scare them away? You don't think I can handle them myself?”

“I have no doubt you could handle them on your own,” you said with complete certainty. He more than earned his Winter Soldier nickname. “But if something or someone is after you, I want to help.”

He studied you as he lowered his knife and covered your hand with his, holding it like a lifeline. Some protected and fought for him because it was their sense of duty. Others did so out of loyalty to his bloodline. You did it out of love.

Because you did love him.

“No one is after me. At least not today,” he assured you, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “But thank you.”

“Then why are you holding my hand like you can't let go?”

The look he gave you melted your heart a bit. “Because I don't want to let you go.”

It was almost as if he was worried you'd bolt if he released you. The only time you'd run would be when you wanted him to chase you. Or maybe he imagined someone would try to take you away from him. He'd never let anyone get you. “What's on your mind then?”

And how do I help?

“My family,” he admitted, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “My mom used to carve pumpkins. I haven't done it in years.”

You didn’t speak for a moment. His family wasn’t a topic he discussed much, so you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Did she teach you how?”

A faint smile appeared and fell just as quickly. “She did,” he said, admiring his handiwork. “I thought it was strange at first, you know? Encouraging me to pull out the insides and leave it hollow. And to carve a face? It almost seemed like a form of torture. Probably why dad demanded I use a decent knife.”

He didn’t hide the hint of anger when he mentioned his dad. You turned your hand over so your palm connected with his, letting him squeeze it to ground him. “But that’s not why your mom did it. She was teaching you to do something beautiful instead of harmful.”

“That's exactly what she did,” he agreed, leaning forward to pick up the knife. “It also encouraged my critical thinking skills. You can’t just dive in without a plan. You have to think it through.”

Bucky sometimes teased that his best friend, Steve, was the man with a plan. The truth was, they both were. Each brilliant in their own way, there was a reason they stayed in power and why so many feared them.

“And I felt proud when she displayed them. Valued,” he continued, his voice a little choked up before he cleared his throat. “It was a tradition I didn't realize I missed.”

Maybe the nostalgia was the reason his eyes looked a bit colder in the fall. “Sounds like a beautiful memory,” you said.

“I hadn’t formed beautiful memories in years until you came along,” he said, his lips skimming your temple. “But you're my family now.”

Tears didn't fill your eyes, but you felt them in your throat. The man was ruthless when the occasion called for it. Terrifying in his rage. You were the lucky one who would never be on the receiving end of it. Only his love. His need. But you could take his rage if you had to.

Like his old memories, you could make it something beautiful.

“You're my family, too,” you told him. You hadn't expected that of Bucky when you met and part of you wanted to stay away from the dangerous world he helped rule, but how could you not want a life with him?

His gaze softened, which warmed your heart. “And I would feel very proud if you helped me finish this,” he said, moving further back against the cushion and opening his legs for you to sit between them. “Maybe it can be the start of our own tradition.”

Your heart raced as you stood up and took a seat on the edge of the cushion, exhaling as he pressed himself against you. “I’m not good at this,” you said, closing your hand around the handle as he placed the knife in it. You didn’t want to ruin the intricate design he already worked so hard on.

His warm breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “We’ll do it together.”

“Guide me?” You asked.

“Of course, Printsessa.”

At the root of everything, Bucky was a man who didn’t want to walk this earth alone. Power and money meant nothing if he didn’t have someone to share himself with. It would’ve left him as hollow as the pumpkins he worried about carving as a child. And if helping him finish this one would make him happy, you’d do just that.

Time passed as he helped you cut into the pumpkin and urged you to follow the stencil, the smell from the pumpkin seeds off to the side bringing a pleasant layer to Bucky's woodsy cologne. There was something intimate about him having you close, his hand directing where yours should go. Like when he taught you how to properly shoot a gun. He said you didn't need his help, but he gave it to you all the same.

Your hold almost slipped when his metal hand snaked between your thighs, softly rubbing your pussy through your underwear. It barely covered your mound, just like your flimsy nightgown. “How am I supposed to concentrate?” you asked, arching as he firmly pressed his palm against you.

“You asked me to guide you. I will,” he said, the light scratch from his scruff making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“You're distracting me,” you whispered, trying to keep your breathing nice and steady.

“Would distracting you be so bad?” he whispered back close to your ear. “We're almost done.”

His fingers gently played with your clit through the fabric, drawing a breathy sigh from you as you squirmed. His almost feathery touch made you all the more determined to finish up, especially since he refused to let you close your thighs to get any friction. You were on the edge of release and he was relentless in loving you.

But he didn't let you come.

“Good girl,” he praised once you finished carving, stopping his fingers as you set the knife down. You bit back a whimper as the rising pleasure faded. “It's beautiful.”

“It is,” you breathed. Instead of a smiling face you saw on so many pumpkins around Halloween, he designed a merged sun and moon. “It's us, isn't it?”

“It is,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he gestured for you to hand him another knife. “You're my sun.”

“That makes you my moon,” you said, stiffening when you felt the blade at your shoulder. “What are you-”

Bucky sliced through your strap and kissed your bare skin. “I'm starting a new tradition,” he said, doing the same to the other side before he slid your nightgown down. He dragged the knife across your exposed breasts, taking great care not to cut you. “Carve a pumpkin. Cut your clothes off. Make you come.”

“You mean tease my pussy without getting me off,” you said without much bite.

He chuckled, a deep rumble as he set the knife aside. “I always get you off. I’m going to make you feel so good, Solynshko.”

With gentle kisses along your jaw and neck, his large hand slid up to fondle your breasts. The rough pads of his fingers teased your nipples as you gasped and reached back to grasp his hair. He moaned as you twisted your fingers in the strands, his hand sliding down to your wet heat again. Thankfully, he didn't tease you through the fabric this time. His fingers dipped into your underwear and you knew he was eager to feel your arousal.

Everything in your core tightened when he caressed your folds. You met his gaze as you tilted your head back, wanting him to see your desperation as his gaze darkened. “Make me come, please.”

“People beg me for money. Power. Mercy,” he said in a low voice, nuzzling your cheek as he sank a finger in, your walls contracting around him. “Not you. It's only pleasure you ask for.”

“It's you I'm begging for,” you admitted in a whisper. Even when you pushed or questioned why he wanted you of all people, you gave him your love. You yielded only to him and you would never bend your will for anyone else. To deny him would be to deny yourself.

He brushed his lips along your jaw and dipped another finger in as you shuddered. “You begging for me to fuck your pretty pussy with my fingers? Make you ruin this couch before I give you my cock?”

Your head fell back against his shoulder as you bit your lip. “Yes, I am. Ruin me. Love me,” you moaned.

“I love you more than anything,” he promised as your eyes slipped shut, dots of white dancing behind your eyelids.

He gripped your jaw to turn your head back to him, seeking out your lips with his. There was nothing tentative in the kiss, his ice meeting your fire and creating an explosion of need within both of you. Your body hummed as you felt the peak of your impending climax, ready for him to tear you apart.

“Come for me, Printsessa,” he demanded against your lips.

Your pussy clamped around his fingers as you lost yourself to the daze of your orgasm, shamelessly crying out his name. Your juices dripped down his fingers as he helped you ride it out, praising you in your ear and guiding you the way he did with the carving. He was telling the truth before: He always got you off.

“Are you okay?” you asked once you caught your breath, the question you meant to ask the moment you entered his study. He seemed more at ease, though lust now clouded his eyes.

“I'm okay,” he said in a rough voice, slowly pulling his fingers out as you sagged against him. He pulled you closer, enveloping you in his strong arms. It was safe. It was home. “But I think you need my cock.”

“I think I need it, too,” you smiled once you caught your breath, knowing his cock likely twitched in his pants as he tasted you on his fingers. “And you owe me a new nightgown.”

“I ordered you a new one before you came in here,” he said, his expression smug as you turned your head to stare at him. “Now sit on my cock. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Bossy Pakhan,” you teased.

But if giving you orgasms, ruining your clothes, and making new memories brought the light back in his eyes, you wouldn't complain.

Oh, to belong to him. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bruh-myguy-what]

Lovestruck

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Requested by: @baddest-batchers Warnings: Massive fluff, I think I actually cried writing this?, I've not been handling the season finale well because I miss Tech a considerable amount, pining for reader from Tech's perspective, a lot of adorable emotions from our usually pragmatic boy Word Count: 2K Summary: While fixing the Marauder with you, Tech reflects on his feelings and he's completely enamored by you. A/N: I'm not handling Tech's death well. Whether it's his death or his just being CX-2, I don't really care, I miss him so desperately and this fic healed so many parts of my heart even though I actually wept while writing. I love that you requested this, friend! I hope it's exactly what you were looking for (or at least close!) and I absolutely agree, this was indeed a Tech prompt. All of these requests have been so wonderful and I cannot express how much it means that people like my writing enough to send in requests! Thanks guys!

Requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send in!

__________________________________________

It was an ordinary affair for you and Tech to work on the repairs for the Marauder simultaneously. There were consistent restorations that needed to be made and things to be updated, so having another experienced individual helped jog said matters along. Though the clone was hesitant at first, after months of rapport building, he was grateful.

Not only was he finding himself appreciative for the extra set of hands, but Tech discovered that he was quite enjoying your company. You were clever, agreeable, and understanding, along with that you seemed to always find his endless wealth of knowledge pleasant. The accurate way you managed the repairs of his ship, first by managing his hesitancy well and then demonstrating consideration for his methods before ever handling something he cared so much about, really surprised him. Your approach to his usually off-putting demeanor was a welcomed change in his life and the way you subtly encouraged him appeared to warm his heart in a way he hadn't previously encountered.

He'd found that his eyes lingered on you from afar longer than he realized, only noticing that he'd been staring when you'd look over and smile at him sweetly. The light in your eyes, whenever you'd smile at him, twinkled so effortlessly, almost as if there had been stars placed directly behind them solely to enchant him.

It was as if you were another creature entirely, one he'd never analyzed, one he knew nothing about- because everything you did fascinated him. All the ways in which you carried yourself, laughed with his brothers, tended to Omega, your wit, the charm you retained...it all was remarkable to him. He began to notice himself craving your attention. Tech dreamed of you laughing for him, smiling at him, every moment he was awake you invaded his thoughts.

So to have you crouched down beneath the hull of the Marauder, handing him parts and tools for repairs made him impossibly delighted. This was a life he could get used to, for a long time. The ability to bond with you- and only you- in this way for the rest of his short life, he would fight for it, no matter the threat. If this was what life could be for him after he and his brothers no longer needed to fight, he would be far and beyond content. He'd feel whole.

"The spanner now, please," Tech's smooth tone echoed back to him from off the metal hull.

Taking a moment to grab the tool, you placed it squarely in his hand, "Of course." Your voice was sweet as ever to his ears, the sensation of your fingers grazing his gloved palm sending tides of bliss to his heart. How he desired to remove his gloves to truly discern how your hand might feel in his. Odd thought, he knew, though nevertheless one he often had run through his mind. Other equivalent ones situated themselves among his standard reflections; such as how your cheeks might feel cradled in his palm, or how your eyes might sparkle even more at his displays of affection toward you.

These introspective ideas were not ones he had been programmed with, he understood that very well, but then again wasn't that the whole point of him and his brothers? They weren't droids. Even with protocol and planned executions, wasn't the beautiful part of having your own identity the potential for...emotion? Sentiments?

Love?

The brilliant clone pondered these notions for many hours during hyperspace travels, staring endlessly into the streaking atmosphere while everyone else lay in their bunks asleep. Upon his further analysis and pensive state, he conceded that he did, indeed, love you. Even though he expected it to never be possible, for him anyhow, it clearly was. And there it was, staring up at him with stunning eyes and an adorable smile- all wrapped up in one woman who waited for further instruction to aid his work.

"Whatcha smiling at, silly?" A giggle brought him out of his reverie and he cleared his throat, handing the spanner back to you while muttering a quick 'my apologies'. "It's no big deal, you know I don't mind," another soft chuckle at his sudden behavior change. "Just curious what has you in such a good mood lately. You never smile this much- not that I'm complaining, of course. You look happy and I like that, it suits you." The smile he watched spread across your lips brightened your eyes so preciously that Tech felt as if his heart were going to lock up. You were absolutely breathtaking in the setting sunlight, the warm glow radiating your beauty.

It wasn't too long after your comment that he acknowledged he'd been staring once again. Tech blinked a few times, regaining his composure- sure to remember the planet's rotation cycle so he could bring you out into the setting sun one more time before leaving so he could truly memorize the way you looked in such a spectacular site. "I suppose it would be an alarming circumstance to see my sudden change in attitude if you are accustomed to my rather pragmatic and steadfast manner." He spoke slowly, trying to gauge his words carefully, looking back up at the repairs he was currently working on.

To say he was usually practical was an understatement and even he knew that, but he continued nevertheless- "Screwdriver, please."

A quick hum in reply from you and the tool was now in his hand, his heart buzzing at your lingering touch, making certain he had hold of the screwdriver before pulling away. "Though," Tech found himself speaking before he realized, hesitating after the word left his mouth.

Should he continue? Would you be uneasy at any admission of his affection, or even just simple favor, toward you?

He found himself suddenly apprehensive at the possibility that he could ruin the favorable conditions he'd found for himself with you. But with your reassuring voice, you spoke his worrying thoughts away, "though, what? Got too many thoughts running around that extraordinary mind of yours to just pick one?" The pleasantness in your prodding had a warm smile of his own spreading across his lips now while he worked against a stubborn bolt.

"Only a few at this very moment, so it would appear, mesh'la." Tech's reply was soft, soft enough that he thought only he'd heard himself until you stood beside him now. He glanced to see your head tilted with ever lovely, inquisitive eyes prompting him to continue his outspoken thought. Realigning his eyes to the bolt, Tech licked his lips anxiously, "Ah, I must have spoken aloud without realizing." He clarified softly, a burning sensation rising to his cheeks.

"Well now you gotta continue," you teased with a smile, "It's not every day that your genius mind only has a few thoughts in it to speak of."

Tech knew he was skating near a precarious edge, but the more you gazed at him expectantly, the less he cared and only desired for you to continue your total obliteration of his typical sensible behaviors. Taking a deep breath, the enhanced clone steadied himself before expressing, "At present, I have found that my foremost thoughts are exclusively about you. During the maturing of our relationship these last few months, it would seem that less and less of my thoughts are as constructive as they had been prior to our closeness, as troubling as that may sound." At your silence, Tech chanced lowering his arms to stand before you unimpeded by work, attention entirely yours.

The rise of your brows and the slight part in your lips made his heart thud painfully against his chest. Though, he noticed the sparkle in your eyes hadn't dissipated, perhaps he wasn't ruining anything as he thought he had been. "I am mindful that it may come across as peculiar, or eccentric, for me to have said that," Tech began cautiously, calculating your evolving expression. "Nevertheless, it is the truth. I...find you to be the most compelling woman that I have personally had the fortune of knowing. You are quite literally the only part of my life that I find myself frequently enchanted by." As he spoke, Tech found it easier to alleviate himself of the mountain of praises he'd been repeatedly considering when in your presence. He discovered he could continue voicing your worth, just as he could gaze at your beautiful face for an indefinable amount of time if only you'd allow him.

In the face of your silence, Tech cleared his throat once again to calm himself of his growing concern. "Though I'm aware of my capacity to express thoughts without stopping, I must say that your added input on this matter would prevent the inclination of my elevating heart rate."

"Tech..." The way his name left your lips did the contrary of what he had just requested, scrambling his heart rate instead. Tenderness touched the curve of your lips as you stepped forward close to him, directly into the space he usually reserved for only himself until he saw how much more exquisite you were when he had the opportunity to look down at you. This close he could see every mark, every small scar, the way the color of your eyes shifted as they glanced back and forth around his face.

"Stars," he breathed, "you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, mesh'la..." Tech muttered to himself in wonderment. As if no barrier had ever existed between you, Tech reached out to caress your face, marveling at how you reacted by pressing your cheek further into his touch. "If you were to provide me the honor of showing you my devotion, I would be certain to surpass any expectations you may put forth." Spellbound by the intimacy he'd found himself in with you, Tech longed for more. He yearned to feel the softness of your cheek on his skin, not through his filthy gloves. The way you deserved to be admired was wholly and profoundly, without any impediments. As his eyes danced between yours and the way your smile began to fade, Tech brushed his thumb along your cheek, cursing his GAR regulation blacks. You'd hardly said a word other than the sweet whisper of his name before you approached him, and even if this instance was all he'd ever receive from you, he'd relive the memory a hundred times over. Though he worried he'd said too much again.

Or maybe you were as entranced as he was, presently. "My dear, I don't mean to ruin this moment, however, I-" and before he could finish speaking you'd surged upward toward him, pressing your lips against his.

Astonishment rushed through the normally sharp clone as he felt the weight of your body pressed against his chest plate. After only a moment, though, Tech reacted- refusing to squander his opportunity to kiss you as he had dreamt many times over.

Wrapping his arms around your smaller figure, one hand came to rest between your shoulders and the other cradled your head affectionately, holding you as close as he could possibly have you. The plush of your lips brushed so flawlessly against his as he admired the softness they possessed. Tech knew upon impact that he would never tire of this, of the ability to hold you as he was, nor his newfound gift to kiss you.

You pulled away all too soon for his liking, the sigh escaping his lips sounding as pathetic to him as he was sure it sounded to you. Your smile was even more gorgeous than he'd seen it yet, though he was sure it was due to the recent discovery of just how incredible your smile tasted against his lips. Tech debated whether he should move at all for fear of you slipping away even sooner, but relented to adjust his goggles, matching your smile. "I believe that is a sufficient response to my yet posed question."

With yet another unpredictable act, you cuddled closer into his space, folding your arms in between your chest and his, and tucked your face into his neck. "I'll be happy to answer any others you may have with the same reply, whenever you need, handsome." You replied with a soft laugh.

Encompassing you once again within his embrace, Tech felt his cheeks warming, noting how the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and he knew couldn't blame that for his reddened face. His breathy chuckle rumbled against his chest plate, "I shall keep that at the forefront of my thoughts."

[anto-pops]

Possessive Touch - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you. 

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian acting incredibly possessive after watching you hug someone else and then staking his claim on you the only way he can.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, rough sex, yandere!Sebastian

Locked away in my drafts for months and unearthed by this ask I received. Everyone say thank you anon

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 (with better tags as usual)

There were a number of words you could use to describe Sebastian Sallow. He was smart, loyal, and daring, to name a few. As brave as any Gryffindor and as insightful as any Ravenclaw, he had many positive attributes that you found to be remarkable. But every coin had two sides, and as much as you admired his more positive attributes, he could also be equally callous, brash, and vindictive when circumstances called for it. His moods fluctuated frequently and gave you whiplash half the time, because more often than not– despite it being accidental– you had a tendency to be the root cause of his emotional turbulence. 

You hadn’t meant for your conversation with Ominis to last for so long, much less for it to cut into your allotted study time with your boyfriend. The Gaunt scion had, in a moment of weakness, confided in you about the burdens of his personal life with a kind of desolate demeanor that tugged at your heartstrings and made you genuinely feel bad for him. You had lent him your ear for nearly an hour, and eventually your shoulder as he came to rest his head against it to embrace you in thanks. It was simply you comforting a friend; offering him a brief moment of reprieve from the dreary thoughts that had plagued him for Merlin knew how long before the two of you had gone your separate ways. Nothing more, nothing less. 

It had apparently looked like something more to Sebastian, though. He had been watching from the end of the Dark Arts Tower corridor with narrowed eyes, jealousy burning in his veins as he took in the sight of his girlfriend holding his former best friend in a manner he deemed reserved for him and him alone. You didn’t know how much of the exchange he had actually witnessed, but all that mattered was that he had seen the two of you hugging. Wracked with a silent yet palpable fury, Sebastian had dragged you down the steps of the Undercroft before tossing you into the room without a second thought, your protests and justifications falling on deaf ears. 

A new word came to mind to describe Sebastian shortly thereafter. One that scared you as much as it excited you. 

Possessive. 

His fingers had branded you as he’d stripped you bare, pressing and pulling incessantly against your clothes until you were clad in nothing but your undergarments and left shivering under the intensity of his stare. He had stretched you out along the cool stone floor, his hands holding you down without a measure of care while he touched whatever parts of you he could reach. Your breasts were tender and sore by now– no doubt covered with tiny fingertip sized bruises from the sheer strength of his groping. His breathing was heavy and tinged with the occasional grunt when he shifted his hips over yours, the telling bulge in his trousers more than likely causing him discomfort, but he paid it no mind as he took his time focusing on you. An unmistakable wetness had gathered between your legs despite the depravity, and as much as you wanted to clench your knees together to ease the rampant ache there, Sebastian’s own leg between yours prevented you from doing so. 

He was toying with you, that much was certain, and he was enjoying every blasted second of it. 

In response to your absentminded squirming, Sebastian moved so his knee was nestled directly against your core, the sudden pressure causing you to gasp and arch beneath him. He took advantage of your closer proximity and looped his arm under your back, holding you flush to him with a desperate sort of yearning that made you dizzy, and the way he inhaled your scent before groaning was almost primal.

A choked moan slipped from your lips as Sebastian ducked his head into the crook of your neck to bite and suck fervently, the pain laced pleasure blinding you to his true motives, but not for long. There was no doubt in your hazy mind that he was behaving so brutishly in some attempt to remind you of who you belonged to. Leaving visible marks would only further his intentions, and you found yourself whimpering as you trembled against the floor. 

After he bestowed a particularly playful nip against your marked flesh, Sebastian sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, taking in the sight of you dazed beneath him. You made quite the pretty picture; skin flushed, hair mussed, and an eclectic assortment of finger shaped lesions decorating your neck, breasts, and thighs. The knowledge that they had been put there by him only appealed to him more, and Sebastian hummed appreciatively at the sight. 

You, on the other hand, were coiled tighter than a spring. The Slytherin man had been edging you like this for what seemed like an eternity, but it realistically could only have been half an hour or so. Time was something of an illusion at present, and all you could truly focus on was your ardent need for release. The fiery sensation that stayed stubbornly aflame in your lower stomach was beginning to drive you mad, and you gazed longingly up at Sebastian, who in turn bit his lip at your watery stare. 

“Please, Sebastian,” you implored him, voice catching. His hands trailed down your chest and over your pert nipples before eventually settling on either side of your waist. Then with a grip tighter than Devil’s Snare, he tugged you harder against his knee with a wicked smile, forcing a low groan from your throat in response to the friction that he seemed to revel in. “Please.”

“I don’t know what you’re begging for,” he admonished in a low voice. “You’re going to have to be more specific, darling.”

Fuck, he was still upset. That much was obvious to you. It was evident in his tone, in the way his fingers dug sharply into the skin of your lower back– but mostly it was his eyes. The usual spark that danced behind his irises when he was with you was dull, and his gaze was anything but soft. It was hard and unyielding, cold and unfeeling. You were going to have to talk your way out of this one. 

Licking your chapped lips, you did your best to still your writhing as you grit through your teeth, “I need you. I can’t take any more of this, please Sebastian.” 

Both of his hands left your waist then. One of them braced flat against the floor to support himself while the other curled under your neck, pulling your head off of the ground to press your forehead against his own. The unrelenting pressure against your cunt didn’t lessen as he hunched over you and forced you to stare directly into those dark, greedy eyes of his, and you whimpered pitifully beneath him as he took in the delicious expression you bore. “Is it really me you need, or would any man do, hm? Should I fetch Ominis? Let the two of you continue where you left off earlier? Or maybe you’d prefer Garreth instead– your standards seem to be all over the place, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“N-No–” you stammered around the word when his fist clenched painfully in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Just you– only you– I swear, we were only talking earlier–”

“That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing…” he muttered darkly, releasing your head and letting it thunk back against the floor softly. His hand was akin to molten fire as it trailed along your clavicle before he moved his thumb to lightly brush across your bottom lip. You barely had time to take note of the movement before he dove forward to capture your lips in a heady, domineering kiss that stole your breath from you completely, and all you could do was mewl softly when you felt his tongue sweep along the inside of your mouth. Sebastian groaned into the kiss, cupping the side of your jaw with his hand as he shifted his knee away from your core to give him the space he needed to drop his hips and grind his solid manhood against your thigh. He broke away for a split second to breathe out, “Say it again.” 

It was hard to get a word out with how ferociously Sebastian was kissing you, but eventually his mouth trailed wetly to the side of your face to suck another mark into the skin below your ear, and you managed to gasp out, “Just you, Sebastian. There’s only you, I love you.” 

The sound of his nails scraping against the stone floor beside your head drew your attention, but before you could roll your head to look, he was sitting up once more with a new sort of emotion glinting in his eyes. Those brown orbs of his were no longer flat or cold and instead appeared to be scalding with blatant lasciviousness, his want for you as potent as Firewhiskey. 

Through hooded eyes you watched as Sebastian reached for his belt, the sound of metal and leather coming undone filling you with a kind of urgency that left you biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Finally he would give you what you wanted– what you’d been craving from the moment he stripped you bare and pinned you to the floor. The version of your boyfriend above you hurriedly shoving his pants down his hips was unfamiliar to you; he seemed wholly animalistic, driven forth by some inherent, primitive need to claim you all for himself, and as much as you loathed his inability to rein in his jealousy at times, an equally intrinsic part of you craved his possessiveness. 

You were his, and he was yours. 

Freed from the confines of his trousers, Sebastian knocked your legs to the side so he had more room to situate himself between them. He slid his knees under your bent legs, caging the limbs under his arms as he ran his calloused palms down the tops of your thighs and the head of his cock slid through the overwhelming wetness that had gathered at your center. The rampant ache in your stomach roared back to life tenfold at the mere feeling of his thick shaft, and you twitched in anticipation while Sebastian fixed his lustful gaze on you. 

“That’s right,” he started to slide into your wet heat as he spoke, your mouth falling open around an airy groan at the sensation of being filled. “You’re mine. Everything you have to offer is for me and me alone, don’t you ever forget it.” 

Sebastian was stretching you out torturously slow, stuffing every inch of himself into you with a measure of control that went against his earlier behavior. He was utterly transfixed as he watched your chest rise and fall with panted breaths, and when he finally bottomed out with his hips flush to the backs of your thighs, a wanton groan ripped from your throat as your head fell to the side. Your hand shot up to push back against his lower stomach– silently trying to convey that you needed a moment to adjust– but Sebastian merely pulled his hips back and plunged back in, drawing a keen whimper from you that lit a fire in his blood. 

Overwhelmed tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the sheer size of him breaching you, and you threw your arm over your face to hide the sudden flush you felt heating your cheeks. “S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah–” 

His hands slid down your thighs to grip at your waist once again, pulling you impossibly closer to grind against your ass before he began pumping into you steadily. It stole your breath– all of it; the angle, his bruising hold on you, his pulsing cock brushing against the deepest parts of you. It was exquisite agony, and a quivering moan tore from your lips when he leaned forward to spear downward into you, the head of his shaft hitting something that made you jolt against him. 

Your arm fell away from your face in that instant, your fingers scrambling for purchase against the stone floor beneath you, to no avail. “F-Fuck, you’re too much– Sebastian!” 

With your neck tipped back and your eyes squeezed shut, you felt Sebastian lean forward to brace his elbows on either side of your head before grasping your cheeks in his large hands. He lifted your skull from the ground and held your forehead to his again, prompting you to look at him as he slowed his pace. He continued to drive his hips into yours, but the mind numbing intensity had mercifully lessened. 

“You’ll never do this with anyone else,” he said brusquely, his breath fanning across your lips. You could only moan in response, especially when he started to grind against you after each plunge of his cock. “This is all for me– every bit of you was made for me– do you understand?” 

The grating moans that had been sounding from you transformed into gentler ones, Sebastian’s wave-like movements with his hips delivering tantalizing friction against your clit that had you melting beneath him. You nodded dumbly, and your boyfriend released your face to sit up so he could better watch as you fell apart under him. With one hand on your waist and the other propping him up, Sebastian held fast to you while he upped his tempo, pistoning his hips into you so fast and rough that the wet sounds coming from where you were connected were all you could hear. 

More choked whimpers cascaded from your lips, sounding like an angelic symphony as far as Sebastian was concerned, and he threw his head back as he got lost in the sensation of your velvety walls clamping down on his cock. You could tell he was close based on how ragged his breathing became, and your own looming climax frayed the remaining tethers of your self-restraint. You surrendered completely to him, relishing in the overwhelming fullness of him as well as the scrape of the stone floor against your shoulder blades. Pain faded into pleasure, the cold air of the Undercroft transformed into a blazing inferno, and you swore you had never been so thoroughly fucked in your life. 

When Sebastian’s gaze fell back on you, his eyes darkened and he practically snarled as he bent you clean in half. He nudged your knees over his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you, burying his fingers in your hair and clenching the strands in his fists, and as he rammed his cock into you harder– more feral and beastly than ever– the air in your lungs was expelled with every intoxicating thrust. 

All you could see, smell, hear, and feel was him. He had effectively rendered you brainless as he claimed your mind, body, and soul, and the only thing you could do was submit to him and take it. 

Your clammy hands blazed a trail along his skin as you wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his back so hard that it had to sting– but if Sebastian’s throaty groan was anything to go by, he fucking loved it. 

“Gods, it’s so deep, isn’t it?” he asked you, the words coming out in-between panted breaths. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought before you clenched around him even more, the unmistakable feeling of his cock hitting your cervix making you see stars. “I’ll come inside– fill you up so good that you’ll walk out of here with it dripping down your legs. See what everyone else has to say about that.” 

You couldn’t even formulate a response. The most you managed was a witless, muffled cry of his name against his shoulder, the weight of him pressing down on you smothering any of the unintelligible noises that escaped you. His rapid, uncompromising pace drove you higher than you had ever thought possible, and your climax steadily built from a whisper to a deafening clamor. 

“Ah– Sebastian, please–” you babbled, spittle hanging from your lips as you begged. “Please, please, please–” 

The hands he had fisted in your hair tightened even more, prompting you to crane your neck back to ease the prickling feeling. “Please what? Come on darling, tell me what you want.” 

The bestial way Sebastian fucked into you intensified in that moment, his toes digging into the stone floor to lend him the support he needed to chase his own pleasure while simultaneously amplifying yours. It was too much– it felt too good– and you had to fight tooth and nail to get the words out before his efforts left you a useless, twitching pile of limbs beneath him. “Please, let me come!” 

“Swear that you’re mine,” he growled in your ear, the rough timbre to his voice making you tremble in earnest. “Tell me that no one else will ever have you like this– swear it.” 

“I s-swear– I swear it– I’m yours, Sebastian. Only yours, I swear, please please please– I swear–” 

Sebastian said nothing else, instead rewarding your admission with a toe-curling roll of his hips as he plunged in all the way to the hilt. He kept moving like that, the chill-inducing friction against your clit combined with his sinfully precise, cervix-kissing thrusts more than enough to drag your finish from you. Your walls fluttered around him as you lost control of your voice, your entire body quaking and jolting as an assortment of moans, cries, and and airy gasps poured from your throat. 

“Fuck–” Sebastian swore roughly, both of his hands abandoning their hold on your hair to brace against the floor to better support his body as you seemingly sucked him in deeper. “Good girl, fuck– I’m close. You're going to take it all, yeah?”

There wasn’t a chance in hell you could respond– not that Sebastian was waiting for you to. With a husky groan, he pushed himself as deep into you as he could go, getting a few last thrusts in before he bottomed out and unraveled. Hot, potent strings of his seed painted your insides, causing your eyes to roll back in your head before he began rutting and grinding his hips into you to milk as much of himself as he could. You could barely hear him mumbling for you to take it all– not that it was even up for debate– and when he finally relented and stilled his movements, you were too dazed to so much as glance at him. 

A warm, featherlight feeling brought you back to the present after a couple of heated moments. Sebastian’s hands brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead, his eyes unapologetically roving over you as he took in the sight of your fucked-out expression. He seemed pleased with himself, a barely there smirk revealing itself as he dropped his hand to your waist to dig his fingers into the bruised skin there. You inhaled sharply, but beyond that, you didn’t so much as wince. You were far too weary for that. 

“In the future,” he started to say as he rocked forward, pressing his still-hard length into you briefly before withdrawing halfway, only to repeat the motion again. “I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself when you’re with your ‘friends’. Especially where Ominis is concerned…” he trailed off, his hands skimming along all the love-bites and bruises that littered your body. “That is, unless you want more reminders as to who it is exactly you’re dating.” 

One look into Sebastian’s dark, piercing eyes told you that he wasn’t bluffing at all. You already knew that he was more than willing to stake his claim on you should the need arise, and part of you even wondered if he would have the decency to do so in private next time. 

Next time? Would there even be a next time? He had certainly made his point.

The pleasant ache that lingered throughout your body had you second guessing yourself, however, and you honestly wondered if it would be worth it to rile Sebastian up again in the future. As terrifying as the thought was, you couldn’t help but entertain it as you smiled up at him innocently, a flurry of unholy visions racing through your mind as you relished in the possessive way he continued to touch you. 

When he began to move his hips again, you decided to label the notion as a ‘maybe’ for now. Clearly he was far from finished with you, and despite the mildly terrifying side of him you had just been made privy to, you couldn’t help but shudder in anticipation. 

Maybe rousing the sleeping dragon again wouldn’t be such a terrible thing… right?

[bwat5-blog]

Vi's Grief: An Honest Accounting

**Spoiler Warning for all of Arcane**

The reason I am giving my two cents on this when so many others have done such an excellent job already (check out the one I re-blogged, title is "all because of one woman" i believe), is because of a slew of conversation I have seen recently, making it out like Vi was just having a sad puppy phase waiting on Caitlyn, and that the moment Caitlyn snapped her fingers Vi came padding back for treats and pets.

In fact, what we are witnessing here is to me one of the saddest points of the story. In which a woman so characterized by her tenacity, her hope, her love and her spirit, just has nothing left. So to that end, I am going to be discussing the collective grief that brought Vi so low, and hope to relay the emotional weight and depth this moment should be given. (Even if the pacing of season 2 DID NOT).

Disclaimer: Anyone following me knows Vi is my favorite character and that I have written about her quite a bit. To that end, there be some things in this I just briefly touch on, that I probably got more detailed with in other posts. As always, thank you to anyone who takes the time to read and/or respond. Discourse and appreciation of stories and characters with heart and depth are how keep them alive. Below are a quick list of points I have explored in other posts regarding Vi's character that are relevant to this discussion but not needing full on analyses here.

Vi DID NOT make Jinx

Vi WAS NOT a bad sister

Vi IS NOT the Jinx

Powder:

The genesis of the grief and guilt Vi will struggle with for the rest of the story. In a moment of unimaginable pain, an at most 16 year old Vi lashes out at Powder who has seemingly caused the deaths of their family. She hits her, grabs her roughly around the face and calls her a Jinx before stalking away into the alleyway to cry. She almost instantly stops, looking at her sisters blood on her hands with horror, and stands to go back before Marcus materializes out of the shadows, stealing her away and throwing her in Stillwater for seven years.

I have discussed this tragedy in several posts and with heavy detail, so I will give you the overview here:

Every scrap of evidence before Vi lashes out suggests a loving, supportive, and protective relationship between she and her sister

While older than Powder, as I said per the writers Vi is 14-16 old during this time (I guess they never decided) which is extremely young

Vi tried not to involve Powder in this at all because she wasn't ready, and rightfully so. We have seen Vander's lessons regarding responsibility to those who look up to you settling in Vi's mind over the first three episodes. She knows there is a good chance they may not come back from rescuing Vander, and tries to keep Powder safe.

When Vi lashes out she has seen her entire family die violently, has narrowly survived a fight for her life against multiple adult thugs, and is wounded and afraid

There is no situation where a rational adult would blame Vi for what happened. But, grief isn't rational. One of the last lessons Vander imparted before his passing becomes a part of her so strong it will impact her forever in ways good and bad alike. "when people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish".

Vi loses everything, and everyone. Thrown in frightening, dark, violent prison without cause for seven years. Her whole world shrinks to the darkness in that cell and all she can think about, all she can focus on and hope for, is to someday make it right to the sister who looked up to her.

Jinx:

Seven years locked away from the world and when Vi gets her chance, she takes it. Lets quickly run down their reunion:

Vi immediately embraces Jinx and apologizes for everything that happened.

Jinx asks if Vi is real, clearly concerning but Vi doesn't bat an eye and just comforts her sister

When Jinx tearfully admits she has changed (the tone clearly indicating in a bad way as Vi understands) Vi does not judge or question, affirming that Jinx did what she had to in order to survive

After seeing Caitlyn and the paranoia and fear planted by Sevika and Silco in Jinx takes ahold of her, Vi continues to try and embrace her sister even pushing Jinx's machine gun out from under her chin

Fights back to back with Jinx against the firelights. We only see first real sign of fear/concern over Jinx's behavior when she realize how manic/gleeful Jinx is in combat, but Vi is taken by the firelights before it can be addressed

Vi immediately tries to take responsibility, accepts her, comforts her, and tries to protect her. They are separated and taken to the firelights hideout where she is reunited with Ekko. Ekko tells her unequivocally that Powder is gone. There is only Jinx, and that she works for Silco because she wants to. Now of course that is not entirely correct either. Jinx is an extremely complex character dealing with a multitude of factors to her decisions. What it really comes down to is this, when Ekko assures Vi she cannot change Jinx, Vi replies "I know my sister, I can reach her.. I have to try"

The Bridge:

After everything she has seen, and everything she has been through and been told Vi turns around from Caitlyn and Ekko, her every intention of going back into the Undercity for her sister alone. She only turns around after the combined betrayal by Marcus, and detonation of the firelights by Jinx almost kill Ekko and Caitlyn. Vi then is witness to her little sister breaking down and almost murdering them both, surrounded by the bodies from Jinx's bombs.

The Dinner Party:

Vi spent seven years in that terrible place, all with the dream of finding Powder and making things right between them. We have seen Vi stabbed, beaten, hunted and shot at all in pursuit of this dream. Jinx herself has at this point almost killed Vi herself. And even still, "when people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish".. All Vi can see is that she failed her little sister. From the sad and tender moment with Caitlyn in Cait's bedroom, to the fact that Vi goes after Sevika and Silco alone to put an end to it, she is carrying so much grief and sorrow over what's occurred. And its all made manifest at Jinx's dinner party.

This is a very intense scene and we could come at it from a lot of angles. To my view these are what matter:

Jinx has abducted Vi, Caitlyn and Silco

Jinx is finally acknowledging all of Silco's crimes against their family, but wants Vi to kill Caitlyn in exchange for "getting powder back"

Vi will not sacrifice Caitlyn but tries to keep Jinx and Caitlyn from hurting each other. Leading to Caitlyn having a shot at Jinx and not taking it before being knocked out

Vi and Silco "battle" over Jinx's soul leading to her breaking down but ultimately saving Vi's life over Silco. She then attacks the Piltover council, killing Caitlyn's mother

Interlude:

What follows is the aftermath of Jinx's attack and the eventual attack by Chem Barron on the memorial. The sister Vi fought so hard to get home to, has killed Caitlyn's mother. And worse yet, Vi convinced Caitlyn to stay her hand before it happened. Vi has tried so hard to protect the people she loves, tried to keep them safe. And while learning she cannot save everyone, and that the weight of the world is not hers alone are two of Vi's most character defining lessons. She isn't there yet.

The Ventilation Chamber:

"My sister is gone.. there's only Jinx now".

People have said Vi gave up on her sister too quickly, that she never really loved her, and that nothing justified donning the uniform and coming after Jinx in this way. As we have just been over it I won't list it all in-depth, but in short, Vi has been violently forced to recognize that Powder has become a violent, unstable, unpredictable murderer. And Vi still blames herself for this transformation that left only Jinx behind. So she does what she always tried to do, even if its the worst possible thing someone could ask of her. She puts on the uniform that has symbolized her parents death, her peoples oppression, and seven years of terror and abuse. So she can take responsibility and end the threat to the entire land that her sister has become. And it ends with her little sister ready to die.. happy believing it will be Vi's hands that end her.

Caitlyn:

Vi and Caitlyn are one of the driving forces of the story. Their love story has mattered so much to many people for many reasons, myself included. For this discussion, we are focusing on the moments that demonstrate their meaning to each other, and what is lost when it all goes wrong. Eventually I am doing a deep-dive on their story and going point by point, but this will focus more on the big picture.

Meeting:

After seven years of isolation and pain at the hands of enforcers. Vi is greeted by Caitlyn wanting information. They play their roles, Vi the cocky inmate, Caitlyn the uptight officer, until Vi reveals she has been beaten up. Caitlyn's response is a stoic thing. She does not march to the desk demanding justice. She does not get all teary eyed and beg Vi's forgiveness for her organizations corruption. She crosses the red line. She decides not to walk away. Later in their discussion, Vi accuses all enforcers of being "Asshole criminals in fancy uniforms". Caitlyn does not bluster. She does not fight. She does not curse Vi as some undercity thug and leave. She just listens. It's the sort of thing you would normally consider insignificant. But we see it from Caitlyn again later when she is talking with Ekko. Even if she doesn't believe it yet, Caitlyn listens. And Vi hasn't had that in a very long time. All concluding in Caitlyn Kiramman, scion of one of the great houses, freeing Vi from prison. The vulnerability in Vi's face when the door opens, and the shock on Caitlyn's face in response is beautiful.

Caitlyn Saves Vi:

Caitlyn's rescue of Vi from Sevika is when Vi's walls start to slowly come down. It's not an instant process. Even after being stabbed Vi is still making jokes, trying to do it all herself. But as the events play out we see the true beginnings of their connection. Caitlyn barely knows Vi. But she immediately engages Sevika to save her, and even trades her prized weapon to save Vi's life. The incredibly soft and tender physical contact between is so telling. And Vi for all of her tough, harsh exterior has been denied anything like this her entire life. Caitlyn has freed Vi, saved her life, and is likely the first real affection Vi has had in her life since before Vander was killed.

Vi Chooses Caitlyn:

We discussed this incident earlier pertaining to Vi/Jinx. So all we need to say here is that for the first time since being freed, we see Vi prioritize something.. or someone.. over getting back to her sister. The concern and relief in her face clear to find Caitlyn alive.

Caitlyn's Abduction/The Dinner Party:

We discussed this event in detail earlier. But some things we have to remember when discussing Vi's relationship with Caitlyn are as follows:

Caitlyn was abducted from her own home

Jinx offers Vi "Powder" back if she will kill Caitlyn

Caitlyn repeatedly tries to tell Vi Jinx is too far gone, but doesn't take the shot at Vi's urging

Caitlyn is violently knocked out by Jinx

Caitlyn has to watch as Jinx murders her mother

This woman that Vi has clearly come to care for, perhaps even love by now (hard to say it a shorter tv show), has now been terrorized and almost killed by Jinx repeatedly. And now so has her mother.

The Strike Team:

In the aftermath of Jinx's attack, all is thrown into chaos and confusion. Retaliation by Piltover upon the undercity is not a question. Its happening. Caitlyn is trying to manage her grief, while Vi is trying to be there for her and manage her grief/guilt over Jinx's part in it all. Caitlyn offers her the badge in order for them to be together to try and bring Jinx to justice, but Vi refuses. The enforcers are the symbol of too much pain from Vi's past. It takes the attack on the memorial for Vi to relent, knowing the only way she keep Caitlyn safe and have any control over what happens with her sister, is to join the strike team and wage war in the streets of her birth.

I have discussed the strike team and the morality of their actions in other documents so here I just want to talk about what this means between Caitlyn and Vi. Vi knows Caitlyn was going. And this was the only way to stay by the woman she loves. But i think at least on some level, even though they are hunting chem barons, and even though the use of the grey is not NEARLY what the fandom has made out of it, Vi is wearing an enforcer uniform, in Zaun's streets, doing violence. I don't know how that couldn't weigh on her. Even if logically she knows she is doing the right thing, it has to feel like a betrayal of where she came from. Caitlyn knows this as well but with each passing day is relenting more and more to her rage before Vi's eyes

The Kiss:

"Everyone in my life changed promise me you won't change"

We all knew it was far too late for Caitlyn to keep that promise. And as I have said in another post, it wasn't really a fair thing for Vi to ask. But does that make Caitlyn a liar and Vi selfish? No.. Caitlyn sees the woman she loves laying bare her fear and her vulnerability, in a way she knows Vi only trusts her enough to show. A way she knows Vi is only showing because Vi loves her.

And for her part, to ask someone who has lost a loved one not to change is impossible. That loss leaves a whole, and you can't be who you were before that hole was carved from you. But Vi has watched the woman she loves sliding further and further down this dark road unable to do anything but try and be there for and keep her safe. Vi's entire world was violently ripped away before she was imprisoned. And now the events of the last few weeks have taken her sister as well. Caitlyn is all that she has and she is afraid.

Heartbreak:

The fight in the chamber comes. It is fearsome, and terrifying, and heart breaking. But when it quiets, Caitlyn has Jinx in her sights. The woman who murdered her mother, who abducted her, who has caused Vi so much pain she is RIGHT. THERE. And Vi stops her.

There has been much debate on what happened. Perhaps in that moment, Caitlyn didn't care if she hit isha. Or, she truly believed she would not and was willing to risk it. Neither are the Caitlyn we know. So Vi stops her. Trying to get her to see the child in danger through Caitlyn's rage and pain.

This whole sequence turned my stomach. It feels like a violation as its supposed to. Once separated after the explosions, Caitlyn and Vi argue, and Caitlyn breaks her promise. She tells Vi she is no different than Jinx. Jinx who killed her mother. Who terrorized her. Who killed those enforcers and became Silco's daughter. And when Vi tries to stop her leaving. Caitlyn hits her in the stomach with her rifle. Leaving her all alone and in pain, crying on the ground.

Conclusion:

Well once again this ran longer than I meant it to. I for sure repeated some things some of you have seen from me already, and I'm sure there was a more concise way to do this. But much like Vi's breakdown over Vander's body at the end, or Caitlyn's becoming the commander, this is an extremely dark, bleak moment that the breakneck pace of season 2 flashes by. And a lot of people really seem to underestimate what she is going through. Up to this point, Vi had defined herself by her loyalty and strength. Her willingness to stand for those she loves no matter the cost to herself. She only knows how to live for those she loves, and believes that is all she is worth. Now, in a very short period of time, the hope of reuniting with her sister has been violently, savagely destroyed. The Last Drop is forever changed. Vander, Milo and Claggor are dead. And the woman she loves, the woman she began to believe loved her (we know Caitlyn does but her darkness is for another post), has left her as broken and alone its like she never rescued her from that prison at all.