#there’s two more that’s below remember

[monamipencil]

another long reblog cuz im crazy abt this story

omg, i LOVED this chap? and i loved all their dynamics?? the chapter was so intriguing. it's so good?? plot is plotting. mia you're so fucking talented to pull this off. my god, i love your writing so much. it's the perfect blend of angst, humor and fluff (and ofc smut). and the fact that you're writing this out of your comfort zone?? respect. srsly tho, i loved this chap!! im so ready for the next chapters hehe.

and ofc, fave parts below!!

it was privacy that was the real myth. 

asdghjkl, well being in a camp with 13 men is .... interesting

when Soonyoung and Seungkwan sat right next to you, loudly comparing their dick sizes.

and not the underwear boxing lmaoo. guys...*sigh*

1.Hell no you didn't want him or anyone in this camp to realise just how (as Jihoon called it) thirsty you were.

"thirsty you were" 😭😭😭

You couldn't just walk up to such a man and tell him, “hey, you're hella hot and I'm hella attracted to you, I wish you would ravage me.”???? 

honestly, i would. (only for cheol tho 😌)

you liked to take Natalie on a walk to visit the man she had a big fat crush on. 

AHHHHHHH, JUN LMAO. AND NATALIE ?!?! i miss natalie

Soonyoung was…….. A teenager stuck in a man’s body.

more true words have never been spoken

he was handsome, goofy, really good with his hands, really really good with his brain but the same didn’t extend to his mouth. 

"the same didn't extend to his mouth" im hollering

For now, you were to focus on building your core strength and basic self defense, in case the camp is ever attacked…. Yes, cause that is less scary, way to make one feel better. 

minghao needs social skills training cuz wtf man?

Hansol was well aware of your presence and chose to actively avoid you every time - if you remembered right, there were even instances when he had practically run away from you.

this is sofucking funny, lmao. they have never been in the vicinity of a woman

And consequently, you too naturally babied him and Chan too enjoyed it - the two of you were perfectly content with your dynamic. 

i would do it too, for lee chan.

Maybe if it was someone else you'd be offended but seeing his childlike face and full cheeks, you were only mildly amused. 

LMFAO i love how we're dragging soonyoung any chance given.

“I'm more of the ‘don't join the crowd, let it follow you’ kinds.”

i see, where you're going with this miss yn

“Okay Mr. Seung-I-am-the-son-of-Hera-and-marriage-is-the-way-of-life-Kwan” Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “Not every traditional relationship is healthy, and not everything unconventional is toxic.”

"marriage is the way of life kwan"😭😭 but soonyoung spitting facts here.

“Yes, except yours is both unconventional and toxic.” Seungkwan scoffed

lmaoo

Mingyu patted his shoulder, shooting you a wink. “Y/n has other plans with me today anyways.” 

another fool with no communication skills. im calling my mom if someone says this to me

Looking up, you saw Jihoon staring at you with a small smirk, his expression all knowing.

lmao, i love smug and teasing jihoon

And you wanted to do Cheol. 

so do all of us.

watching the shirtless man, doing sit ups in the middle of the living room

in the living room? he's just asking to be fucked atp

And there was you who was always desperately wishing for the smallest interaction with him.. What an idiot. 

... tch, hits home. and choi seungcheol, wth.

You tried not to hyperfixate on the inappropriate labeling of Horang in the off chance that an annoyed Soonyoung threw you back out.

she's way too patient. im just gonna hit his head at this point. poor "horang," being misperceived all the time. #justicefor"horang"

“and you could moan my name, say how good I'm making you feel.” 

this guy, *sigh*

“Fuck yes Soonyoung, that feels so good-” “Yeah, yeah I remember…..Oh no that was just…. our cow?…..Yes Daisy, she's just having a rough night…..”

LMAO, my stomach hurts

“Let me clarify. Yes I have used a dildo before-”  “Oh god.”  “- Although my girlfriend isn’t the biggest fan of it-”  “This wasn’t my question.”  “-I do occasionally enjoy it myself.”  “I don’t think I should be a part of this conversation.”  “But this dildo in particular, has never been used by either of us before.”  “That!” You pointed out. “That’s all I needed to know.” 

im so done with these idiots lmaooo. (and im genuinely intrigued)

“I haven’t even gotten to the story behind this.” He giggled. “This is my father’s.”  “Aaaand I’m done here.” 

😭😭😭 back to zero communication skills lmao

“This isn’t an ordinary dildo Y/n, no. This baby can take on the shape, size, dimensions and every single tiny detail” He gave a dramatic pause. “Of the person you are imagining while going at it.”

i need the amazon link (asking for a friend ofc)

Lord was Choi Seungcheol thick.

asdfghjkl ????

“No, no I don’t but why do I make you nervous?”  Seungcheol smiled softly. “Do you really not know?”  You suppressed the grin forming on your own face. Fucking finally.  “No.” You shook your head feigning innocence. “Tell me.”  “Can I show you?” 

AHHHHHHHHHHH, OMG. IT'S HAPPENING, FIN-

“Y/n I’m sorry, I forgot that it’s late and we have training at 4 tomorrow.” He muttered, drawing his hands away. “You should sleep. I can’t excuse your lateness everyday.” 

nevermind.

Camp Seventeen: Chapter 1

Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13 (Reader x Seungcheol, Reader x Soonyoung for this Ch)

Word count - 13K

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut (tags for the chapter are under the cut), fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up!

Chapter summary - It's been a week since you stepped foot in Camp Seventeen - as you navigated the days trying to wrap your head around the 13 boys, one's touch and another's voice start to become a bit too bothersome....

A/n - And the series has finally kickstarted! Please read the prologue before this! Big thanks to @okiedokrie and @c-oupsie for helping beta read this, y'all are the sweetest <3

I do have a taglist so comment/DM/send an ask to be added! And if you enjoyed reading, please don't forget to leave feedback in the comments or tags - we've got lots of chapters to go and hearing thoughts really helps <3

Smut warnings - mutual masturbation, fingering, use of a very questionable dildo, is this considered cheating? Idk it's all blur here, jerking off, cum feeding, cum eating and I hope that's all?

“Fucking hell.” 

You mumbled, waking up the same way you had been for the last one week - startled and nearly jumping off your bed. 

While most people began their days to the ringing of alarm clocks (or roosters if they preferred the countryside), you regularly woke up to the sound of Seungcheol’s eagle screeching in your ear. 

Turning your head, you glanced at Zephyr perched on the window before it gave you a short nod of acknowledgement and flew off into the darkness. Yes darkness, because unlike most people, your day also began at 4 fucking am in the morning. 

Groaning and stretching, you sat up, holding back the large yawn that was threatening to pull you back to sleep. If Zephyr was here to wake you up, that meant you were late yet again and you hated that - you had done too many walks of shame to the training field and were in no mood to be conspicuously stared at by 13 boys as you stumbled over, carrying all your gear. 

Knowing you didn’t have enough time to drop by the washroom, you popped a mint and sprayed some deodorant before quickly grabbing your things and running out into the darkness. 

The sun was just starting to peek from between the mountains as the House Of Zeus became smaller and smaller behind you. Although you had a long list of concerns living with Seungcheol, an unbeatable advantage was how close his residence was to the training grounds. Still, you could somehow never manage to be punctual. By the time you reached, you were 15 minutes late and Seokmin had already begun the morning drills. 

“Two laps around the field newbie.” He muttered as you walked past him, habituated to receiving the same punishment everyday. 

While you begrudgingly jogged around the perimeter of the grounds, your mind wandered to everything and nothing that happened over the past few days. 

Life at camp so far had been…. strange. 

You would be lying if you said you were already accustomed to life here. You most certainly were not. And forget a week, not even a year could prepare you for what living in the wild was like. 

To begin with, there was no electricity here. That’s right, no lights, no air conditioning, no Internet, nothing. 

Member��s began their days at sunrise and ended it as sunset - after all nothing much could be done in the dim illuminance of the fire torches scattered all around the base. So of course for you, who functioned best from 1 to 3am, this archaic way of life was highly inconvenient. 

The only place that had even a trace of something technologically advanced was the Great Hall - some of the more brainy boys had managed to set up a small circuit for kitchen appliances, laundry machines, a small charging station and that was about it. Rumor was that Wonwoo's residence had its own circuit too, but no one could really confirm that intel - it was as though none of them had ever ventured into the House of Hades. 

And as though the lack of scientific inventions was not enough, showers…..were communal. Apparently it made more sense that water lines were directed to one common bath house rather than to each individual house. For them it was definitely more convenient to have the baths, jacuzzi and sauna all in one place, but for you that meant waiting everyday after training for the whole lot of them to be done washing up before you could do the same, with some privacy. 

Oh and speaking of privacy, in the last week you spent here, you had come to realize that in this all-boys-greek-mythology world, it was privacy that was the real myth. Obviously after years of living together the boys were close but sometimes, they were perhaps a tad bit too close - like the time you had walked in on Mingyu and Seokmin boxing in just their underwear or when Soonyoung and Seungkwan sat right next to you, loudly comparing their dick sizes. You usually drew the line at phallic discussions.

The one place on camp that perhaps gave you some alone time and space away from the mess that the boys were, was the library. Considering you had shifted the last year of your University to an online study, you had a shit ton of assignments to complete and that was the only place you were able to get anything done at all. It was like the boys didn’t even know the study building existed - no one cared enough to go there so yeah, maybe occasionally, you also allowed yourself to let down your hair, sing in your horribly off pitch voice and dance to beats from your walkman. Outside those four walls it was impossible for you to feel even a little peace and quiet. 

Surprisingly, not even the temple, which one would think would be a place of sanctity, was spared from the deviant actions of the boys. The altar was less a place of worship and more a place for bargains and exchange deals - it was the only way to connect to the gods, aka, the parents in Olympus. 

You had come to learn that just like the human world, not all God parents loved their kids the same - some members were regularly showered with gifts and goods, others would not receive so much as a response. You found yourself falling in the second half. Your father never cared for you in the human world and apparently, neither did your mother. 

Brushing off the thoughts of the woman you had thought was dead for the last 25 years, you wrapped up your punishment and joined the boys for morning exercises, ready to start yet another tiring day. 

“All done!” 

Joshua gave you a sweet smile as he stepped out of the bath house, rubbing the towel into his wet hair. Thanking him softly, you walked into the showers, stripped out of your clothes and turned on the hot water. The mud that Minghao had you rolling in today as part of combat training washed off as the heat worked to soothe your aching muscles. Lathering shampoo onto your scalp, you finally felt yourself relaxing, letting your favorite citrus smell take over your senses. Outside the bath house, you could hear Seungcheol raising his voice, instructing all the members to head for breakfast, loud footsteps following his words. 

Choi Seungcheol….. Living with him so far had been frustrating. 

When you first stepped into his residence, you told him that you’ve always lived alone so it might take you a while to adjust to living with someone and Seungcheol seemed to inwardly decide that giving you space was his life's purpose. After that, whenever you appeared before him, he politely greeted you and walked away. Whenever you stood as much as two feet near him he took a step back, like he didn't want to intrude on your personal space. Whenever you sat in his vicinity, he excused himself stating he'll give you some ‘me-time’. 

You wish he knew how much you were in fact craving for the exact opposite - You wanted Choi Seungcheol. God you so badly wanted him. 

It wasn't like you could just make a move on him because 

1.Hell no you didn't want him or anyone in this camp to realise just how (as Jihoon called it) thirsty you were and 

2. Seungcheol wasn’t just anybody, he was the leader. Members bowed to him when he walked by, even the companions, specially Patricia who listened to no one, obeyed him - anything and everything on this camp premises held him at the highest regard. You couldn't just walk up to such a man and tell him, “hey, you're hella hot and I'm hella attracted to you, I wish you would ravage me.”???? 

All you could hope was that Seungcheol somehow approached you on his own but that seemed questionable given the clear line he had drawn between the two of you. 

The one person you wished would actually draw a line was the first one to always cross it - Yoon Jeonghan. You knew he and Seungcheol were the same age and that they were close but you didn't understand just how close they had to be for Athena's son to barge into the leaders residence whenever he wanted? Even at times you were changing your clothes or lying casually on the bed in your night dresses that barely covered anything. 

The most infuriating part was Jeonghan did not ever apologize - he'd just laugh and walk away and you wanted to do nothing more than throw a shoe at him. For some reason he enjoyed getting on your nerves, he enjoyed making you angry and it wasn’t just you - in the last one week, it was evident that Jeonghan was a pain in everyone's ass but somehow they all adored him? You didn't get why they all seemed to love a man who always liked to pull their leg, never leaving any chance to fool them with his wit - you assumed they just preferred to be on his good side so all his harmless fun remained harmless. 

Even Joshua, who was one of the sweetest people you knew, seemed to have a soft spot for Jeonghan. 

When you asked him why he said before Jeonghan joined camp, Seungcheol was very uptight and ran the camp like a military barrack - it was the former’s pranks and carefree attitude that allowed members to be at ease. Though he was talking about Jeonghan, you knew what Joshua’s words truly reflected were his own good nature. He just seemed like the kind of guy who could do no wrong - like a pure, sweet soul. The days after you first arrived at camp it was Joshua who showed you around, guided you with everything and tried to make you feel at home. No one else really tried to get to know you as a person - they were all more interested about how and why you landed in their camp. 

It also helped that Joshua was extremely pleasant on the eyes - at times when you didn’t want to feel overburdened by thoughts, you loved to sit next to him and watch him work on his little craft for the day or write that new novel of his. Yes he was good looking and yes when he smiled, you felt dazzled, but it was his sweet disposition that made you choose his company over the other members.

On the days he would go off to the city for some work, the next best place you found yourself was on Jun’s farm. Not that he was particularly nice to you or anything, Jun was…. quiet. He seemed to always do his thing, not bothering anyone, only speaking when required. When the evenings rolled around, you liked to take Natalie on a walk to visit the man she had a big fat crush on. Honestly though, who wouldn’t have a crush on someone like Jun - though he was the one working in the fields, it was you who was sweating, just watching him. 

Although you did want to talk to him, try to get to know him a little bit, you chose not to - as someone who enjoyed the peace and quiet, you decided to let at least some member offer you that because guys like Soonyoung sure as hell could not. 

Soonyoung was…….. A teenager stuck in a man’s body. Oh yeah he was hot as hell - just the nice build with muscles popping in all the right places. He knew how to dress better than most people on camp too - if you had seen him somewhere else, you would have thought he was one of those cool kids you always saw on campus. 

But that image of him was destroyed the moment he sat on a Leopard and insisted it was a tiger. Over the last week, that was the predominant discussion between the two of you. That and his incessant flirting. Or rather, attempt to flirt. All he came across was cheesy, kinda humorous and loud. Extremely loud. 

Wonwoo on the other hand was as silent as the night. 

Most of the time you didn’t even know if and when he was around, it was like he was non-existent. The members too didn’t seem to bother much with what he did - you noticed he didn’t wash up with the others, often hitting the showers after you were done. He never came for any meals on time, he always stayed back, even after all the members dispersed for the day - he just seemed to function however he liked and no one questioned him. He never questioned you either - Not once did Wonwoo ever attempt to make conversation with you or even meet your eye. It was like he couldn’t care less and that wasn't very pleasant for you. 

Someone who seemed to care a lot though, was Jihoon. Oh Jihoo was quiet too, but somehow he had his eyes on everything. Everything you did, everything you saw, even everything you felt seemed to find its way into Jihoon’s radar - he just knew. It terrified you that he was able to see right through you but the good thing about Jihoon was that he generally kept his mouth shut and wasn’t too keen on discussing his observations. Regardless, his presence made you feel extremely conscious and a part of you often tried to not be alone with him, lest he could read your mind or something. 

As the last of the soap rinsed off you, you turned off the water and grabbed your towel, patting yourself down. Your body was sore and aching all over - Minghao said that was because you were not used to such combat routines and in a few months time you would get used to it but you weren’t really sure if you had it in you to tolerate all this for that long. 

You also still had no idea what exactly these skills were needed for but from the conversations you overheard, it sounded like some sort of competition? That was both unlikely and terrifying cause who really competed with swords and spears anymore but if it was true, then what the actual hell??? Minghao said he didn’t want to scare you with the details just yet and would explain everything when the time came. For now, you were to focus on building your core strength and basic self defense, in case the camp is ever attacked…. Yes, cause that is less scary, way to make one feel better. 

But that was the thing about Minghao - he did not have the habit of sugar coating things. He was honest with his feedback no matter how rude it sounded and though sometimes it did make you feel like shit, he also made sure to push you to do better. You knew if there was anyone you could approach for a real, unbiased opinion, it was him. 

The same could not be said for Mingyu though - everything that came out of his mouth was saccharine sweet to the point it actually annoyed you. There was no doubt he was a nice guy - he was handsome, goofy, really good with his hands, really really good with his brain but the same didn’t extend to his mouth. His style of getting your attention was to ceaselessly seek validation and unfortunately for him, you weren’t really someone who was great with words of affirmation. When he was not trying so hard to please though, Mingyu was truly the biggest sweetheart with the fattest, most caring heart you had ever come across - the kind one wanted to wrap in bubble wrap and tuck away safely. 

Seokmin too fell in the same category - the type who was so precious, it was hard to believe people like him even existed. The only reason you were able to survive these few weeks of training despite coming late was because Seokmin had your back every time Seungcheol wasn’t watching - allowing you to take breathers, overlooking the fact that you were doing less sets than you were supposed to, things of that sort. He was always sweet and calm, giving you soft smiles and sweet eye crinkles. 

With his members though, Seokmin was a whole different person - he was unnaturally loud, extremely energetic and all over the place. The problem was, you didn’t know which of the two was the real him. You weren’t really sure why but something told you Seokmin wasn’t the man he seemed like and a strange curiosity coursed through you every time you interacted with him. 

Seungkwan on the other hand was the exact opposite, he was exactly what he seemed like - always annoyed, unabashedly honest and unnecessarily snarky. In a way, you understood him - Seungkwan had the habit of taking on many things at once and keeping him unbelievably busy. In university, you too were like this - you took extra modules, signed up for multiple clubs, worked an internship alongside a couple of part time jobs and more. You liked to be occupied, to not allow yourself the room to think about what your life could have been otherwise. Maybe that’s why you saw yourself in Mr. Busy Boo - always roaming around with that bluetooth in his ear, attending some meeting or the other, frequently heading to the city to get work done - ‘rest’ was just not a word in his dictionary.

But even amidst all this business and even though his automated response was to snap back at people, he still managed to bond really well with the members despite having joined the camp only a few months before you had. It was like they all needed him to be their constant reality check. 

The one who you thought required his presence more than anyone was Hansol. A man like him whose entire personality was avoidant needed someone like Seungkwan who would drag him into everything forcibly. Hansol wasn’t like Wonwoo, who was unbothered, couldn’t care less and pretended like you didn’t exist. Hansol was well aware of your presence and chose to actively avoid you every time - if you remembered right, there were even instances when he had practically run away from you. Something was just weird about that guy. 

Perhaps the most normal of them all was Chan - actually he was just as loud and consistently blabbering much like some of the others but something about him made you feel very fond of him. Sure he was the same age as you but he felt like a child, always babied by his members, always grinning like a cheshire cat. And consequently, you too naturally babied him and Chan too enjoyed it - the two of you were perfectly content with your dynamic. 

If only you got that same feeling with everyone else……

As you grabbed your things and stepped out of the bath house fully dressed, Wonwoo was standing outside with a towel slung on his shoulder, scrolling through his phone. Without so much as looking at you, he walked past you, into the shower room, loudly shutting the door behind him. 

“Can you ever be on time?” Jeonghan sighed, handing you a plate of pancakes as you looked around realizing everyone was nearly done with breakfast. “It’s not my job to wait your table every morning.” 

“Until you lot arrange for me to have my own shower,”  You grabbed an apple, taking a bite into it as you sat at the extra long dining table. “I’m afraid this is exactly how late I will be everyday.” 

“You know what they say sweetie,” Soonyoung whisked the apple from your hand, taking a bite of his own. “If you can’t beat the crowd, join the crowd.”

You looked at him exasperatedly, knowing that he was just talking out of his ass. Maybe if it was someone else you'd be offended but seeing his childlike face and full cheeks, you were only mildly amused. 

“I'm more of the ‘don't join the crowd, let it follow you’ kinds.”

“Oh I'd follow you anywhere Y/n.” He sighed dreamily as you laughed, taking a bite out of your pancakes that were still too hot. 

“How about you start following your own girlfriend instead Kwon?” Minghao walked around the kitchen island shooting Soonyoung an unimpressed look. “Rumour is that she was seen outside the Dreamboys Disco and we all know exactly what one goes there for.”

“She's not my girlfriend anymore.” Soonyoung muttered. “We broke up.”

“Weren't you just planning an anniversary trip two days ago?” Seokmin looked at him quizzically. 

“Yeah then we argued over a location and she said it was better we broke up for a while.” 

“This is what, your third breakup this month?”

“Fifth.” He whispered sadly in a way that made you want to pat his back. “Sixth actually, if you count the one that lasted for 3 hours.” 

“I'll never understand these on again off again kind of relationships.” Seungkwan clicked his tongue, hurriedly grabbing a banana, balancing all the files in his hand. “The only thing it screams to me is disrespect.” 

“Okay Mr. Seung-I-am-the-son-of-Hera-and-marriage-is-the-way-of-life-Kwan” Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “Not every traditional relationship is healthy, and not everything unconventional is toxic.”

“Yes, except yours is both unconventional and toxic.” Seungkwan scoffed, raising his hand before Soonyoung retaliated. “I can’t care enough right now, tiger boy, I’m already late. We can reschedule your relationship counseling session sometime later.” 

“How about never?” Soonyoung grumbled as Seungkwan rushed off, attending a call on his bluetooth. “Who’s idea was it for him to join the camp again?” 

“Mine.” Seungcheol slid onto the seat across you, raising an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?” 

“Nope.” Soonyoung shook his head fast. “Absolutely not.”

Smirking just a little, Seungcheol turned to you, sliding a couple pieces of chicken breast off his plate onto yours. “You need to eat more Y/n, that little won’t last you through the day.” 

“Same goes for you..” Jeonghan mumbled, placing a bottle of protein shake near Seungcheol who gave him a grateful smile. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jun increase the portion of chicken to buy on the huge shopping list scribbled on the white board.

If there was anything you absolutely loved about this camp, it was the brotherhood. No matter what each member was like individually, as a team, they loved and cared about each other immensely. You weren’t really sure if and when they could extend the same for you but having lived alone nearly all your life, a part of you craved to be one of them, to be cared for like that. 

“I won’t be able to make it for the meeting tonight.” Wonwoo, as usual, strolled in much later than you and no one, as usual, had any complaints with that. In fact rather uncharacteristically nicely, Jeonghan handed him breakfast, shooting him a worried look.

“Why, what’s wrong?” 

“I need to drop by the headquarters today.” He sighed, sitting a couple of seats away from you. “There’s an important official coming and apparently my presence is needed.” 

“Will you be back by nightfall?” Seungcheol asked, looking concerned. You knew why he was worried - if Wonwoo wasn’t there on camp grounds at night that meant all the members had to take their places on the perimeter to guard overnight. Sleep was not an option that night. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replied, not looking up. “I will just have to miss out on the meeting for the lawsuit.” 

Right that meeting. The one you, Jeonghan and Wonwoo, had been trying to have for days now to sort out the biggest mess of your life. 

“Shouldn’t be a problem, Nonu.” Mingyu patted his shoulder, shooting you a wink. “Y/n has other plans with me today anyways.” 

You frowned confused as Mingyu clarified. “You were going to finalise your house plan so I could start construction, remember?” 

Oh yeah, you had that too. 

“Awesome, then I can go to the city today.” Jeonghan clapped cheerily, taking his apron off. 

“You don’t work today though…..” Jun muttered, looking at the shortage in the lunch boxes he had packed. 

“Don’t worry about food, I got some friends to meet over lunch.” The older man shot him a two-fingered salute before jogging out of the dining hall, earning Seungcheol’s tired sigh. 

“I can never keep up with him-” 

“Cab leaves in five!” Chan shouted, poking his head through the window. 

The members around immediately stuffed the last of their breakfast, grabbing their things hurriedly, rushing out to get the front seat in Chan’s car. Afterall, the ones behind had to squeeze to fit themselves in and the one hour bumpy ride to the city was not fun. From their collective groans though you could tell Jeonghan had called shotgun - the asshole was lucky as usual. 

Seungcheol downed the last of his breakfast with a fond laugh before turning to you. 

“Have a nice day Y/n, I’ll see you later.” 

You tried not to smile back at him too widely as your eyes followed him leaving the premises. When you turned back to your meal, you could feel a set of eyes keenly looking at you. Looking up, you saw Jihoon staring at you with a small smirk, his expression all knowing. Gulping, you excused yourself from there. 

You stared at the blueprint before you, humming skeptically. 

“Are you still not happy with the design?” Mingyu sighed, crossing his arms. 

“I don’t know.” You drawled. “Something about it feels….off.” 

“Something about your own design that you made for your own house feels off?” 

“Gyu.” Joshua chastised, standing up from the couch and walking over to you. “Artists second guess their work all the time, have some patience.” 

“I am patient.” The bigger man pointed. “But she’s unbelievably indecisive.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” You looked up at Mingyu guiltily. “It’s just, I’m wondering if having a bathroom in my residence is a good idea or if I should just have another small one built by the bath house? I mean think about it - my residence is so far from the training grounds and the dining hall, if I had to walk all this distance everyday, I’m only going to be more late-” 

“I get it.” Mingyu patted your back. “I get your concerns but the sooner we finalize this, the sooner I can get to building it and the sooner you can get out of Seungcheol’s house and into your own space.” 

Ahhh. 

Right. 

A part of you was thankful that Jihoon wasn’t a part of this discussion otherwise he would’ve seen right through your subtle attempts to delay this process. You didn’t want to be an inconvenience on purpose but….. You were just a girl and you wanted to get to know Cheol a little better. It didn’t help that he was barely ever at home, leaving at the crack of dawn for training and only returning very late at night, after he finished attending night school doing that stupid astronomy degree of his. The only time you ever got with him was on Sunday because members did not train on Sundays - everyone was free to do whatever they wanted. And you wanted to do Cheol. 

So far you only had the chance to spend one weekend alone with him and maybe just maybe if you pushed your house construction a little you’d have the chance for another weekend or two. Then perhaps, you’d be able to take this unresolved, unnecessary tension with him somewhere. 

“How about you take a few days and work on your plan again Y/n?” Joshua rolled up the large paper carefully, handing it to you. “Whenever you’re ready let me and Mingyu know - we’ll try and figure out the materials, budget, feasibility and all that.” 

“It’s times like this I miss Jeonghan’s brain.” Mingyu clicked his tongue, disappointed. “Where did he say he was off to again?” 

“When does he ever tell us?” Joshua mumbled. “He should be back by nightfall though. Jun said he needed help with the fertilizer composition and Han told him he would help.” 

“Wow, he’s capable of being useful.” You rolled your eyes, stashing the blueprint into your bag. Mingyu and Joshua laughed, amused.

“Jeonghan is always useful..” 

“We still haven’t managed to figure out a thing about my lawsuit and my hearing is in a few weeks-” 

“Han and Wonwoo will sort it out Y/n, don’t worry.” Joshua rubbed your arm comfortingly. “They’re the best one can ask for.” 

“Yeah except I can’t seem to ask Jeonghan for anything cause he’s a little bitch or ask Wonwoo anything because for that he would need to realise that I exist and I don’t think he does.” 

“Wonwoo hyung is….” Mingyu trailed off. “He’s a little hard to understand. Just give him some time. Once you figure him out, you’ll know why he’s like this.”

Exasperated, you shook your head and walked away. Time was the one thing you never seemed to have. 

Like always, as the sun began setting you glanced out of the window of the library catching sight of the varied hues in the sky. On the camp ground you could see Mingyu riding his big mechanical bull, lighting up the fire torches around for the night. Pulling out the lighter from your bag, you stared at the candles stacked in the middle of the table. 

Sighing you cast the lighter aside and snapped your fingers, watching the flames come to life in your hand, dancing across your palm. Stretching your fingers, and moving your hand around, you watched the orange yellow light just glide across your skin like it was a pretty accessory and not literal fire that should have obliterated your hand by now. 

Fire never did burn you - how could it when a mere thought could make it come alive in your hands. You first discovered this when you were 16 and accidentally dunking your hand in a pot full of boiling water did not leave so much as a scar. Even though you were unscathed you roamed around for a few days with a fully bandaged hand - the world would have thought you were some sort of freak otherwise. Over the years you tried to play with fire in many ways, just to test your limits, just to see how far you could go and each time, much to your own dismay, the limit didn’t exist. Each time proved just how much you didn’t fit in the world, just how much you deserved to be alone because you really were a freak. 

But that was until a few weeks ago. 

Until you discovered it wasn’t the inability to burn that was the true madness - it was your ability to create fire itself. 

From there things spiraled. You learnt you weren’t the anomaly but a part of a rather large group of such circus acts - a world completely hidden from your own. In a cascade of events you were thrown into camp seventeen out of no will of your own and now, this was your life, this was your world. 

Holding your flaming hand over your redrawn sketches you glanced at them. Thanks to the two boys yet again canceling the meeting with you, you found yourself working in the library earlier than usual, exhausted by the time the sun set. As you debated between working a little more or heading back, the door opening with a slow creak made the decision for you - if it was windy outside, it was most likely going to rain and you didn’t want to stay long enough to get drenched. Quickly dousing the flame and blowing out the candles, you grabbed all your things and saw your way out. 

In the darkness, the camp was quiet as usual. You figured most of the members must’ve retired to their residences for the night and when you reached the House of Zeus, surprisingly, so had Seungcheol. 

“Y-you’re home.” You stuttered, watching the shirtless man, doing sit ups in the middle of the living room in the dim golden light of the paraffin lamps. 

Evidently Seungcheol hadn’t expected your presence so soon either because at the sound of your voice, he got up with a jerk, pulling a muscle in his abdomen. 

“Cheol oh my god-” 

“You’re early.” He got up wincing, holding the side of his trunk. “I’m sorry I should have been doing this in my room-” 

“I mean, the whole house is yours-” 

“There’s a heavy rain forecast today, not really much astronomy I can do-” 

“Yeah I came back because of the rain too-” 

“Yeah me too….” Seungcheol trailed off realising how silly he sounded. 

Grabbing his shirt from the floor, he attempted to put it on, groaning miserably at the pain shooting up his abdomen. Watching him struggle, you quickly dropped your things and tried to reach for him to help out, but just as your finger barely grazed over his skin, he stumbled back like he was electrocuted, pushing your hand away. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“Cheol…. “ You frowned, confused. “I was just trying to help-” 

 “Seungcheol.” He corrected. “And I don’t need your help Y/n. Please just…. stay away from me.” 

You blinked at a complete loss of words at his unwarranted behaviour. Unsure about how you felt, you grabbed your bag from the floor, turned on your heel and walked out silently, the same way you came in. 

As usual, bad luck had followed you on your way out. 

Not only was your life miserable, the weather too decided to be a pain in your ass and it started drizzling the moment you stepped out of Seungcheol’s house. 

Even though the water was cold and you were shivering, you took off in the rain. You needed to get as far away from here as you could. 

You were such a fool. You should have known that Seungcheol wasn’t being nice or giving you your space, on the contrary he was keeping his distance, putting you at an arm’s length. It was evident today - not only was he uninterested, but somehow it seemed like your very presence was disturbing him in some way. 

And there was you who was always desperately wishing for the smallest interaction with him.. What an idiot. 

Hugging yourself, you walked further down the cobbled path. Tomorrow you were going to finalise your house plan with Mingyu and get out of Cheol’s house as soon as possible. But as much as you wanted to avoid him and pull yourself away, a part of you was still aching at the loss of something that you believed had a lot of potential. Why did it have to be him of all people? Why couldn’t it have been someone like Mingyu - he was hot as hell and unlike his leader, he actively showed interest in you all the time. 

As you raised your head, Mingyu’s house loomed before you and your feet, as if they had a brain of their own, took you towards his mini mansion of a residence. That was until you saw Jihoon stepping out of the same place and instinctively took a swift u-turn. 

The last person who could see you right now was Jihoon - that man would read you like an open book and know exactly how fucking embarrased you were. Hoping to god he didn’t spot you, you quickly ran, entering the nearest gate for temporary refuge, till you got out of his sight. 

But in hindsight, perhaps falling in Jihoon’s line of vision was better than the situation you had landed yourself in….. You weren’t really sure who’s house you had trespassed until the low growling expressed just how much his companion disliked it. 

Horang. 

Realising you had quite literally thrown yourself into the den of a wild cat, you froze, praying that it didn’t notice you and you could slip out as easily as you slipped in. But before you could do anything, a hand grabbed you quickly, leading you into the neighbouring cottage, shutting the door behind you. 

“Are you insane?” Soonyoung looked at you confused, shaking the water off his hair. “Why would you enter Horang’s enclosure unless you wanted to be ripped apart.” 

“I didn’t know….” You rubbed your arms, generating heat. “I was just….trying to escape the rain.” 

“You should have knocked on my door then..” He muttered, disappearing for a split second, returning with a towel in his hand. “Horang isn’t used to you yet so please don’t venture near my tiger in my absence - he only listens to me.” 

You tried not to hyperfixate on the inappropriate labeling of Horang in the off chance that an annoyed Soonyoung threw you back out. Instead, you accepted his towel, patting yourself dry, still shivering a little. With his hands on your shoulder, Soonyoung led you to the fireplace, guiding you to sit on the couch across. As you did, you glanced around his residence.

This was the first time you were in Soonyoung’s place and in all honesty, it looked much like that designated room in college dorms where all the parties happened - he had party lights everywhere, streamers hanging from the ceiling and techno music softly playing over the speakers. 

When you turned back to him, Soonyoung held out a christmas mug, with a grin. “Mulled wine.”

“I can’t.” You shook your head although in the headspace you were in, you could really use some alcohol. “I won’t be able to wake up on time tomorrow.” 

“It’s not like you’ll be on time even if you were sober.” He chuckled, immediately regretting his words as you narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re in the House of Dionysus. This is literally the only hot drink I have to offer.” 

Sighing you took it from him, desperate to have something warm coursing through your body after all that coldness you experienced earlier. 

“So, why are you out and about in the rain?” Soonyoung sank into the couch beside you, sipping a drink of his own. 

“I….just needed to be away from that house for a while.” You mumbled, taking a sip. 

“Why? Has Seungcheol gotten overbearing already?” 

“It’s not him….” 

“It’s always him.” Soonyoung sighed. “But it’s not his fault. He just has a lot of pressure on him to be perfect as a leader, you know? That sort of thing gets to you.” 

“I know. It’s just….. “ You sighed, not knowing how to explain things to him. “Forget it, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“No, tell me.” He whined making you turn to him, finally noticing he was fully dressed from head to toe like he was about to march right into a party. 

“Are you going somewhere?” 

“Work?” Soonyoung stated like it was obvious. “Don’t tell me you forgot what I do.” 

You looked at him sheepishly. “I’ve been here for just a week Kwon and there’s thirteen of you so I’m sorry if it’s taking me some time.” 

“Forgiven.” He nodded amused. “I own the Midnight club in the city centre.” 

“Right, that big Demigod rave place.” 

“No, the Midnight club is for humans. There’s another club hidden behind it, After Hours - That’s for Demigods exclusively.” 

You let out an oh of realization as Soonyoung continued. 

“Business usually runs fine on its own but I try to drop by from time to time to just remind everyone who the boss is.” 

“I heard there’s a life size portrait of you behind the DJ booth to do the same.” 

“Obituaries are portraits too.” He rolled his eyes. “I need to let them know I am alive, kicking and always in charge.” 

You shook your head laughing. “Well then aren’t you getting late? You should probably leave by now-” 

“I don’t think I’m going.” He mumbled, downing his drink in one shot, red slowly creeping on his face. “Not in the mood.” 

Glancing at him silently, you just blinked at him. You knew guys like Soonyoung could not keep a thing in them - he would share whatever was bothering him without you even asking in three, two, on-

“The intel is that my ex is going to be there tonight.” 

“Ahh.” You crossed your feet on his couch, settling in. “And you don’t want to see her?” 

“I don’t want to see her with other men.” He gripped his mug tight. “With the news out that she’s single, guys will be falling all over her and I know she’s going to play along just to make me jealous.” 

“Well two can play that game right? You can do the same?” 

“What makes you think there are girls fawning all over me?” 

“Do you just want to hear me say you’re hot and that you could pull if you wanted to?” You cocked your head at him. “Cause I can. I have a little wine in me so I can use it as an excuse.” 

Soonyoung laughed, throwing his head back. “No I know I’m hot, but do you know who she is?” 

You shook your head, drinking up more. 

“Aphrodite’s daughter, the femme fatales of the demigod world - boys want her and girls don’t want to mess with her. No one is going to so much as look at her ex, forget trying to hit on me.” 

“Huh.” You pondered, the cogwheels in your brain turning. “Well technically, no one in the human world knows her so I’m sure one of them will-” 

“There’s no point of that. She knows I won’t go for a human.” 

“Why is that?” 

Soonyoung stared back at you a little hard before a small smirk formed on his face. “Y/n, are you a virgin?” 

You blinked, breaking out into a laugh. “I sure am drunk cause I seem to have missed why this intrusive question is relevant now?” 

Taking your empty mug from you, Soonyoung filled it up again from the pot. “What I mean is, demigods don’t sleep with humans sweetie.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because we’re half gods, do you think humans can really satisfy us?” Soonyoung raised his eyebrows. “Mortals can’t keep up with our sex drive.” 

As you looked confused, the smirk returned back to Soonyoung’ face. “Which is why I asked. If you haven’t realised that a mortal man can’t pleasure you, then either you’ve never had sex……. or you’ve never had an orgasm.” 

“I don’t have to answer that.” 

“Come on, humor me.” 

“Maybe I’m starting to get why your girlfriend dumped your annoying ass.” 

Soonyoung pouted, feigning hurt as you rolled your eyes. 

“So now if you want to get her back, you won’t be hit on by another demigod and you can’t be hit on by a human which means your only chance of making her jealous is with……” You looked at him intently. “Kwon Soonyoung, why are your eyes glimmering with mischief?” 

“You.” He took the cup from your hands and set it on the table, much to your dismay. “You’re the only one who she doesn’t know about and the only one who doesn’t know her…..” 

“So?” 

“Oh you’d be the perfect bait.” Soonyoung clapped his hands. “One look at you next to me and she’s going to be quaking in her boots.” 

“If you think I’m about to stroll into a nightclub and pretend to hit on you to make your ex girlfriend jealous you’re sorely mistaken.” 

“Why?” He whined. “Why can’t you do me a small favour. I saved you from Horong-” 

“Number one. If you didn’t pull me into your house, I would have ran out of the gate and been safe anyways-” 

“Sure.” 

“Number two, I don’t know what the hell is in this wine. Normally it takes a whole bottle to knock me down but two glasses in and I’m already buzzed-” 

“It’s a special blend.” 

“And number three, unfortunately for you, women are really observative creatures. One look at me next to you and she’s going to know there’s absolutely nothing going on between us.” 

Soonyoung opened and closed his mouth like he was thinking about what to say. “It won’t work out Kwon.” 

“This always happens.” He sighed. “She breaks it off with me for any small thing, goes on to have her fun, pushes me till I have to beg for her forgiveness and then she accepts it whenever she feels like. Everything is always whenever she feels like it. We haven’t even had sex in like two years-” 

“Okay.” You cut him off before he went into details you didn’t need to know. “If you’re so aware of what she’s doing, why do you always give in to her? Do you really like her or… is she just a habit?” 

“I don’t know.” Soonyoung stared at the floor, lost in thought. “I just know that we’ve been together since we were 18. And I can’t throw that away.” 

“I never knew you were such a romantic Kwon.” 

He laughed, sinking further into the couch. 

“You really want her back huh?” 

“I do.” 

“And this time do you want her to make the effort?” 

“A man can hope.” 

“Well then.” You turned to him. “Point number three was relevant only if she saw me…do you have your phone?” 

Soonyoung nodded, patting his many pockets and finally finding it, holding it out. 

“You're going to call and tell her you're hitting on me?”

“No…. If you give her a missed call will she call back?”

“Not immediately.” He sighed. “She'll take her time to pretend like she didn't see and then get back to me-” 

“Do it.” He continued to look at you confused. “Call her and cut the call.” 

He followed through but the frown didn't leave him the whole time. “Y/n what exactly are you doing?” 

“This may be a bit diabolical but it should do the trick.” You took a deep breath glancing at Soonyoung. “When she calls you back, she's going to hear us having sex.”

“W-what?” 

“Before you get any ideas, I'm not going to have sex with you Soonyoung, we're just going to make her think that we are.”

“How exactly will we do that?”

“We'll fake it.” You shrugged. “Make a couple of wet skin smacking sounds-” 

“and you could moan my name, say how good I'm making you feel.” 

“Didn’t you get onboard this real fast.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I'm going to make it really clear once again that this is for her not-” 

Ring! 

At the sound of the ringtone both of you glanced at his phone and in a split second, Soonyoung picked up the call, holding it against his ear. Thankful that you got the opportunity to execute your idea so soon and determined to put up the show you promised, you immediately got to it, clearing your throat.

“Fuck yes Soonyoung, that feels so good-” 

With widened eyes and a swift movement, Soonyoung shut your mouth with his hand, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, yeah I remember…..Oh no that was just…. our cow?…..Yes Daisy, she's just having a rough night….. Anyways thanks for the reminder Hyungwon.”

You stared at him mortified, all the wine threatening to exit your system. 

“Yeah sure, see you tomorrow bro.”

Soonyoung brought down both the phone and his hand at the same time. 

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I thought it was-” 

“That’s your idea of having sex??” He looked at you shocked. “Thank god it wasn’t Mina because there was no way in hell she would have believed that?” 

“Hey, I had no preparation time, you try faking it off the bat.” You mumbled. “Besides, it wasn’t so bad.” 

“Wasn’t so bad?” Soonyoung looked scandalised. “Do you even know what you sounded like? Fuck yes Soonyoung, that feels good-” 

You leaned back inching away from him. 

“What the…..what was that?” 

“That's what you said.” 

“I know but” You frowned unsure if you heard right or if you were starting to get too drunk. “You sounded exactly like me. Like your voice, it….it was mine.” 

“Oh.” Soonyoung scratched the back of his head. “Yeah well um being the son of the God of Theater comes with its own skill set. Imitation helps confuse opponents during war - it has actually saved us in quests many times.”

“You can imitate anyone?”

Soonyoung nodded.

“Any sound they make?”

He nodded again as you let out a low whistle. 

“Well that's brilliant, then you don't even need me. You can make your girlfriend jealous by simply impersonating me.” 

“The keyword is imitate. I can only repeat sounds I hear, I can't just make them up.” He shifted in his seat. “So if I should impersonate you, I need to hear what you actually sound like during sex.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don't push your luck Kwon.”

“I'm kidding.” He laughed leaning back into the couch, his eyes fluttering shut. “But you really have to work on the faking.” 

“Yeah I've been told.” You muttered as Soonyoung sat up again.

“Aha, so you have never had an orgasm!” 

“Because of a man, no I've not.” You confessed. “But bold of you to assume that I'm not perfectly capable of my own.”

Soonyoung looked confused. 

“Ever heard of masturbation, genius?” 

Soonyoung's mouth formed an O of realisation. “Well I've been in a relationship for almost 10 years so I've never had to take care of myself.”

“Don't rub it on my face Kwon.” You scoffed but regretted immediately knowing some dirty joke was going to come out of the man. So shutting his mouth with your hand, you held a finger to your lips. “Not a word. You're going to shut up till your girlfriend calls back.”

“That could be a very very long time.” He mumbled against your hand making you press it harder against his mouth with a shush. 

5 minutes later you were on your fourth mug of wine and Mina still hadn't called. 

10 minutes later, you were nearly falling asleep and Soonyoung was already snoring away beside you. 

15 minutes later the sound of the rain began to get softer outside. 

And 20 minutes later was when you finally lost your patience, shaking Soonyoung awake. 

“It’s getting late, I should go….” 

Soonyoung looked up at you sleepily as you got off the couch, standing up. 

“You should.….. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have roped you into this” He glanced at the blank screen on his phone. “Clearly Mina is either too busy having fun on her own or she doesn’t care.” 

You smiled at him sadly, as he pulled his feet up, snuggling into the couch. 

“I'm so sorry.” You whispered. “Goodnight Kwon.” 

“Goodnight sweetie.”

Setting the mug down, you grabbed your bag and opened his front door, relieved that the rain seemed to have stopped. But something was also stopping you from stepping out. 

Giving it a thought and sighing, you turned around, looking at the half asleep man again. 

“You said you could imitate me right?” 

Soonyoung's eyes slowly fluttered open.  

“So if you listen to how I actually sound, if and when she calls back, you can execute the plan on your own right?”

Soonyoung looked at you in a mix of confusion, drunkenness and sleepiness.

“Are you saying that…”

“No, I'm not going to sleep with you Kwon Soonyoung.”

“But you're horrible at faking.” 

“Yet again I'm going to remind you about masturbation.” 

You sighed, looking at his eternally lost expression. Grabbing his hand, you pulled him off the couch, leading him to his room. 

Soonyoung's room was just how you expected it to be - a mess. There were things scattered everywhere, all kinds of band posters up on the wall, snack wrappers all over the floor. 

He quickly kicked the trash under his bed and looked at you pleadingly. “You cannot tell Mingyu how messy my room is. And you most definitely cannot tell Seungcheol I'm snacking - he does not understand post break up slump.”

You gritted your teeth annoyed to be reminded of him again. Of course he didn't understand anything remotely related to feelings.

“Don't worry, no one's gonna know anything because you too are going to keep your mouth shut about whatever happens tonight.” 

“I still don't know what's happening tonight.” He mumbled as you walked around his room, glancing at everything. 

“I'm going to get myself off and you're going to listen and take notes.” Soonyoung's eyes finally widened in realisation.“Do you have a towel?” 

He nodded, quickly going through the stack of clothes piled on the chair across his bed and pulled out a long white one. Taking it from him you laid it down on his bed, the two of you staring at it mindlessly. 

“Could you also close the curtains?” You fidgeted with your fingers, putting your bag down at the foot of his bed as Soonyoung nodded. “Also dim the lights please.”

Following through your requests he tried not to look at you as you stripped out of your jacket and threw it on the bed. But when you unclasped your bra and pulled it out from under your shirt, Soonyoung was quite literally gawking. 

“I’m hot.” You mumbled as he walked back, standing much closer to you than he was before. 

“Yeah you are…. I mean,” He cleared his throat when you raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah it's a little hot in here.” 

Both of you tried to ignore the sound of cold raining softly falling against the window. 

“On second thoughts,” You took a step back. “I don’t know if I can do this.” 

“W-why not?” 

“If you haven’t noticed I am buzzed as hell and I’m not sure I can do…. a great job on myself right now.” 

Lips slowly curling into a smile, Soonyoung cocked his head. “I can help.” 

“Yes and I can finally use all that combat training and kick your ass. Soonyoung I am not sleeping with-” 

“What? No, no I mean….. just wait here.” 

Your eyes followed him as he jogged out of his room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You must be crazy to suggest this. Sure there was alcohol in your system and sure you were trying to get your mind off Seungcheol, avoiding going back to his house but this…..

“Here you go.” 

Soonyoung strolled back in with what you could only describe as a wooden looking, very phallic instrument. 

“That’s…” 

He nodded. “A dildo.” 

“I have so many questions.” 

“Let me clarify. Yes I have used a dildo before-” 

“Oh god.” 

“- Although my girlfriend isn’t the biggest fan of it-” 

“This wasn’t my question.” 

“-I do occasionally enjoy it myself.” 

“I don’t think I should be a part of this conversation.” 

“But this dildo in particular, has never been used by either of us before.” 

“That!” You pointed out. “That’s all I needed to know.” 

Soonyoung held it out to you, looking at you expectantly. You gulped. 

“You know, I don’t think I can do this. I’m actually more of a vibrator girl myself.” 

“Now who’s indulging in the TMI?” 

You rolled your eyes. “My point is, I don’t need this, I can just do it myself-” 

“I haven’t even gotten to the story behind this.” He giggled. “This is my father’s.” 

“Aaaand I’m done here.” 

“No what I mean is-” He shuffled closer to you like he was revealing a big secret. “My father may be the god of wine and ecstasy and madness and theatre and so many things but he is also…. the creator of the dildo.” You stared at him vacantly. What?? “I don’t think you wanna know the story behind it, it’s disturbing as fuck-” 

“More disturbing than everything so far?” 

“-but basically, a few years back, my father was temporarily exiled from Olympus and while he was in the human world, he had, what he calls, a magnificent business idea….sex toys. Dildo’s in particular. That’s when he made this.” He held it up and you wished he did it a little less proudly. “This isn’t an ordinary dildo Y/n, no. This baby can take on the shape, size, dimensions and every single tiny detail” He gave a dramatic pause. “Of the person you are imagining while going at it.”

“W-what?” You blinked at him stumped. “You mean to say it…. morphs into a replica of someone’s actual dick?” 

Soonyoung nodded fast. “This piece is a prototype that Dionysus made but when he brought the idea to Zeus it was shut down immediately because Gods aren’t supposed to interfere with human business and all that hoo ha, so he left it with me before he returned home.” With a small smile dancing on his lips, he held it out to you. “So if you want, it's all yours.” 

You stared at it. 

A magic dildo that could take the shape of any dick you wanted? 

You would have to be insane to say no to that. 

Pretending to hesitate just so you didn’t come across completely deranged, you slowly took the toy off Soonyoung’s hand, feeling the weight of it in your own. As you tried to picture how exactly this night might go, Soonyoung took a few steps back, grabbed a fistful of the material behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head. 

“What?” He smirked as your eyes ran down his chiseled body, mouth moving but no words leaving it. “Didn’t you say it was hot?” 

As Soonyoung moved all the clothes stacked on the chair to the floor and sat down, you watched as the minor oversights in your plan came into play. If he had to take notes,  then Kwon Soonyoung was going to watch you. 

Tongue in the cheek, you glanced around the room, thanking all the gods in Olympus when you spotted a lacy blindfold hanging on the headboard. Without questioning its existence in his room, you quickly grabbed it and threw it at him.

“The deal was for audio Kwon, no visuals.” 

In complete contrast to his hot as fuck appearance he pouted like a child as you shook your head and looked at the blindfold pointedly. Sighing, he reached for it and put it over his eyes, tying it behind his hand. Not trusting him entirely, you walked up to him, slotting yourself between his legs and pulled the knot. Soonyoung’s hands gripped your thighs in both surprise and pain. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, fingers softly grazing your legs as he pulled his hands away. “I promise, I can’t see a thing.” 

You nodded, then realised he said he couldn’t see and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Okay.” He breathed, leaning back, waiting expectantly. 

Taking a few seconds, you let out a deep determined breath, preparing yourself for what was coming. As you unbuttoned your jeans, shimmying both your shorts and underwear down your legs, your eyes finally took a good look at the man of the hour, Kwon Soonyoung. Yeah he was one of the members who often trained shirtless which meant you had seen this display many times before but this was perhaps the first time you were actually paying attention to it. Before this, you hadn’t quite realised just how beautifully tanned and toned he was or how much that undercut suited him or how hot he looked biting his lower lip. 

Kicking your garments away, you pried your eyes, reminding yourself that this man was taken. Or at least would be taken again pretty soon. You shouldn’t do this. You shouldn’t be looking at him, you shouldn’t be thinking about him and he sure as fuck cannot be the inspiration for your new magic sex toy. 

That unfortunately meant that there was only one other person in your mind who could be the muse - Choi Seungcheol. Despite his dismissal earlier and despite being someone who held herself as a very high level of self respect, it was evident that your body shamelessly still craved him - he was the only one running in your mind. Trying to block him out, you arranged the pillows on Soonyoung’s bed against the headboard, adjusted the towel and slowly climbed on. In all the time that you took leaning against it, spreading your legs and settling in, Soonyoung remained incredibly quiet. Patient. 

Although he couldn’t see you, watching him felt weird, given the man and the dick on your mind were not him. Sighing, you glanced at the object you were gripping - it had already taken shape of what you desired and the sight of it made you gulp. 

Lord was Choi Seungcheol thick.

Given his beefy exterior and broad build you had always assumed he was packed between his legs but this was nowhere near what you were imagining, not even close. Earlier, you were worried how you would get yourself off when you weren’t even wet enough but now you were practically dripping with the thought of that inside you. Still, you didn’t think it could fit, not without any prep. 

Slipping two fingers in your mouth you wet them messily before guiding them to your folds, smearing the spit with your very evident arousal. When you let out a soft sigh, Soonyoung shifted in his seat like he was alert and when your fingers teased your hole, slowly slipping in, an unintentional moan left you too, making him practically grip the armrests of his couch tight. 

“I'm going to need more than that Y/n.” He whispered. “What are you doing right now?” 

“I’m prepping myself, it’s…” You gulped. “It’s too big.” 

“Do you need lube?” He frowned. “Although I don’t know where it is….or if I even have any-” 

“That’s okay.” You shook your head. “I think I’m wet enough. Almost.” 

“Do you need any help?” 

You glanced at his tense body. “How can you help?” 

“Are you the kind that listens to instructions?”

“Occasionally.” 

“Then push your fingers further.” He exhaled. “Curl them up.” 

Although that was what was on your mind anyways, you obeyed. As your fingers brushed that spot, a soft fuck escaped your lips. 

“Feel good?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Yeah that’s good.”

“Then move.” He cocked his head. “Slowly at first, then pick up speed.” 

Even before he finished his sentence you had followed through, fingers pumping faster, head falling back as the grip around the dildo in your hand tightened. 

“Add another finger.” 

“This feels good enough.” 

“This will feel better.” He urged. “Stretch yourself a little and add another finger.” 

Scissoring yourself open, you held back the moan that was threatening to tumble out, terrified Soonyoung would hear you. Belatedly you realised - Soonyoung was supposed to hear you. 

“Fuck that does feel better.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you ready for more?” 

“.......I think so.” 

“Then wet the dildo.” He shifted. “Put it in your mouth.” 

Hesitating just a bit you brought it up to your eye level, still taken aback by its sheer girth. In the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand you can see a stark vein running along his length, the sight of it nearly making your mouth water. Oh you wanted him to fill your mouth, you wanted him to fill you just about anywhere so bad but it was clear from earlier that Seungcheol didn’t want the same. So you were just going to take this chance and fuck him out of your brain. After tonight you were not going to think of Choi Seungcheol anymore. 

Determined, you wrapped your mouth around the tip, humming against the weight on your tongue before pulling it out with a wet pop. As Soonyoung’s breath hitched, you sunk your mouth down on it again, taking it further in, not far enough to let it hit the back of your throat, but enough to just slightly choke around it, drool running down the corner of your mouth. 

“Y/n,” Soonyoung’s voice sounded almost choked too. “Please….” 

You’ve never had a man beg for you like this before and it wasn’t enough to touch him but to touch yourself? Something in you swelled in pride, but something was also terrified about what things would be like once this was over - could you and Soonyoung really be the same again? And if things were going to change, how would they be? 

“Sweetie, you have to do something….” 

Knowing you needed something in you more than he did, you drove the thoughts away before aligning the tip at your dripping hole and slowly pushing Seungcheol’s girth in. 

“Holy shit..” You sighed as you thrusted his length further, the stretch serving a sting that slowly ebbed from pain to pleasure. 

“Is it all the way in?” Soonyoung groaned as you shook your head gulping.

“It’s not…” You panted, glancing down to see barely any length disappearing in you yet you were so full. “I can’t.”

“You can.” He licked his drying lips. “You can Y/n, come on - fuck yourself like you want to be fucked.” 

Yes you knew Soonyoung had a horrible habit of pointless flirting but you did not think his mouth was capable of spewing such filth too. 

“Tell me how you like it.” 

“Deep.” You whimpered, answering him as you shoved it in more, feeling it hit all the right places. “I like it deep.” 

“And fast?” 

“And fast.” 

“Then move.” 

And you did, pulling it out, pistoning it into you, sharp intakes of breath and curse words leaving you as you did. You felt your eyes roll back, threatening to shut but when they landed on Soonyoung they widened - he had slid down his chair, manspread now a lot wider and stark against his pants was the imprint of his uncomfortably trapped boner.

“Soonyoung….” You accidentally moaned, simply trying to get his attention. “Are you… hard?” 

“Unbearably.” He confessed immediately. “I’m s-sorry, it’s been a while-” 

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You don’t know why exactly you asked him that but you wanted him to feel good too. Just as good as faux Seungcheol was making you feel. 

“I think I can cum without that.” He half laughed, half groaned. “But god yes I want to.”

“Do it.” You directed him, halting your own movements, watching him. “Touch yourself.” 

Without wasting a second, Soonyoung instantly unbuttoned his pants and stuck his hand down, wrapping it around his erection. As he shifted uncomfortably, you could tell he would’ve felt a lot better if he could completely free himself.

“Careful. Otherwise I’ll see you…I mean it…” 

“Do you mind?” He raised his eyebrows at you. “Would it bother you if I….” 

If you were being honest, since the moment you laid eyes on the outline of his dick you were curious…

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t.” 

“Then I don’t give a flying fuck.” 

He raised his hips a little, just enough to pull down his pants as his erection sprung free, resting against his abs, pink and flushed. 

Oh he was long. 

Seungcheol might be thick but Soonyoung was long, like he could reach places no one else could. As he spat in his hand and smeared the pre cum along his length pumping it in his fist, you gulped, forgetting that you too were in the middle of doing the same thing, just staring. 

“Y/n,” He moaned your name, throwing his head back, setting off a strange fire in your groin. “Match my pace.” 

You nodded, thankful to not have to put your own brain to this which was threatening to shut off any moment now. Watching him half lidded, you let him set the pace for your movements, matching him almost perfectly. 

“Fuck this feels so good.” Soonyoung whimpered. 

“It does.” You agreed, with struggling breaths. “Soonyoung please…. Faster.” 

“Faster?” He smirked, but listened. “You really are one of us huh.” 

“I need more.” You whined, feeling yourself at an edge you were just not able to cross. “Soonyoung….” 

“I wish I could help, baby.” He sighed, “I really do wish…” 

“What would you have done?” 

“I’d have my mouth everywhere…marked your neck…. marked those pretty breasts….fuck Y/n, you’d have to beg me to stop.” 

“Don’t.” You moaned, pushing your shirt up with your free hand, grabbing a tit, squeezing it painfully hard. “Tell me more…” 

“I’d hold the toy for you, watch you fuck yourself on it….” He stroked himself faster, almost erratically. “Maybe give it to you from the back so I can see how your ass-” 

Groaning annoyed at the sound of music coming loudly from his pocket, your movements faltered, eyes widening. It was different from the ringtone earlier which probably meant-

“Is that Mina?” 

“Yeah.” 

“P-pick it up Soonyoung.” 

“Ignore it.” 

“Soon-” 

“Ignore it.” He emphasized. “Go on Y/n, I don’t know how long the effects of that toy are going to last.” 

And that’s what made you stop wondering why Soonyoung wouldn’t pick up the call when this was in fact the most ideal situation the two of you were meant to be caught in. You didn’t want to lose what you were pumping inside you, you didn’t want to lose the feeling of Seungcheol stretching you out. As you resumed the pace, Soonyoung’s voice left him like a croak. 

“Do you like the thought of this? Someone listening to you get off?” 

You didn’t want to answer that. Wasn’t the kind of things you liked evident by the fact that you were fucking yourself to one man while watching and listening to another? 

“Because I love that you’re watching.” He whispered. “It’s driving me insane.” 

“I wanna see you cum.” You pulled the toy out of you, tossing it onto the towel before your fingers found your clit rubbing circles hard.

“Fuck I'm close.” He pumped himself faster, losing rhythm, broken moans and whimpers leaving him. “So close.”

Words left your mouth too as incoherent babbles as you felt your back arch and insides tighten pleasurably. Eyes crossing and shut tight, you finally came, chest heaving, trying to catch a breath. As you slowly came around and ran your fingers down your folds realising just how much you came, Soonyoung continued to push himself over the edge, like he just needed a little more nudge to finally find his release. Gulping you swung your legs off the bed and silently walked up to him, standing between his manspread, leaning till your lips were right by his ear. 

“Cum for me Soonyoung.” 

Almost immediately, with a guttural moan, his head fell back, baring his neck as spurts of cum shot onto his hand and torso, painting them white. Once the sheer amount left him he finally slumped back into his chair, breathing again, like he had been holding it in for too long. The sight of his cum all over his abs against the sheen of sweat on it made you clench unwillingly and you ran two fingers over it, collecting it. You knew his lips parted to catch his breath but you took the chance to slip your digits into his mouth, letting him taste himself. Surprised but not unpleasantly, Soonyoung ran his tongue along them, licking it clean, pulling away with a pop.

“You taste as good as you sound.” 

It's only then that you realise your own arousal was coating your fingers too. 

Scoffing awkwardly, you shuffled back, picking up your shorts and panties from the floor, putting them on slowly.  

“I'm not dressed yet!” You shrieked, futilely trying to cover yourself as Soonyoung attempted to remove his blindfold. Holding his hand up, he allowed you to get dressed in the silence that followed. Silence that was too much to bear, silence that if he hadn’t broken, you would have. 

“I wasn't sure if I heard right but I thought…” He let out a deep breath as he tucked his flaccid self back in his pants. “I thought you took someone's name as you came.” 

You froze. 

You hadn't realised but now that you thought about it…. maybe, just maybe, you had taken Seungcheol’s name as your orgasm hit you. Yes you were incredibly turned on by Soonyoung and the sight of him and the sounds that left him but there was only one thing running at the back of your mind - cheol, cheol, cheol. 

“I'm not sure what you heard.” You brushed away his concerns, trying to sound casual. “I don't even know what I was saying, I was in some other zone entirely.” 

Soonyoung hummed in response and didn't push you for any further details. Grateful, you wiped your hands on the towel laid out before grabbing it, the bedsheet as well as the dildo and stuffed them all in your bag, throwing it over your shoulder - this was your mess to deal with.

“You done?” 

“Yeah just….put fresh sheets please.” 

“Oh don't worry about all that.” He got up, attempting to take his blindfold yet again. “I got it. If you want you could-” 

“Goodbye Soonyoung.” You stepped back, knowing he was offering for you to stay the night. Instead you headed for the door, hoping to leave before your eyes met his again. “I hope I was of help.” 

And as you left, you heard him sigh, revealing something he probably didn't mean for you to hear. 

“I don't think so Y/n.”

—

When you left Soonyoung’s house the rain had stopped but as you stood in the dining hall before the laundry machines the storm had returned yet again, much heavier this time. You glanced outside the windows at the obscurity sighing. It was like things just hated being in your favour. 

When the ding of the washer went off, you shifted the sheets into the dryer and decided to leave it there for the night considering you couldn't carry them back in the rain - you’d deal with them in the morning anyways, you weren’t ready to see Soonyoung just yet.

When you grabbed your bag from the floor, the weight had not reduced much - the dildo was still in it except it was back in its original popsicle-like shape, any trace of its resemblance to Seungcheol lost. You'd simply washed it and put it back in the bag, unsure what else to do with it. A part of you was annoyed that it had taken after Seungcheol of all people but the other was terrified that if you were to ever use it again, it would probably still model after him yet again. 

Disappointed with yourself you took a deep breath and shook your head. No. No more Choi Seungcheol. This ends here. 

Glancing at the machines one last time, you held onto your bag and ran out into the rain, hoping that Seungcheol had retired to his room by the time you reached. Instead, just as you approached the House of Zeus, you heard his voice. 

“Y/n!” 

He was drenched from head to toe, his blonde hair sticking to his face much like his shirt plastered against his pecs, like he had been soaked in the rain for hours. Letting out a struggled breath, you walked straight into his house, ignoring him. Seungcheol jogged over as fast as he could, putting himself in between you and the doors. 

“Y/n please listen to me-” 

“I don’t want to.” You attempted to go around him, only to be blocked by him again. 

“I just want to explain what happened earlier-” 

“I don’t care enough for an explanation.”

“I do!” 

You rolled your eyes as you pushed him away, a lot less gently than you intended to and Seungcheol immediately caught your hand, pulling you towards him.

“Seungcheol-” 

“You…. you can touch me.” He looked at his fingers wrapped around your wrist in awe, then at your palm flat against his chest.

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want me to-” 

“You shouldn’t be able to.” He muttered like he was amazed, unable to tear his eyes away. “How can you….” 

“Seungcheol, you're not making any sense.” 

He let out a deep breath. “Do you remember when you first came to camp we told you that every demigod has a certain set of offensive and defensive powers depending on their parentage?” 

You nodded, frowning.

“As the son of Zeus, my defensive power is….an electric field.” Oh. “At times like war, or in adrenaline driven situations, I become highly charged, rendering anyone who so much as comes two feet near me electrocuted. It's supposed to be a way to weaken enemies.” He sighed, “That’s why I was afraid of you touching me. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” 

“But…..Seungcheol I’m not an enemy and this isn’t a war-” 

“I get nervous around you.” He avoided your eye. “I don’t know, I just….. I can feel my skin prickling around you but……” He glanced at where your hands met his again. “You don’t feel anything?” 

“No, no I don’t but why do I make you nervous?” 

Seungcheol smiled softly. “Do you really not know?” 

You suppressed the grin forming on your own face. Fucking finally. 

“No.” You shook your head feigning innocence. “Tell me.” 

“Can I show you?” 

Maybe you nodded a bit too eagerly, because Seungcheol chuckled, pushing himself up against the door, pulling you along with him. As your body pressed against his, his hands found your waist, gaze darkening. He leaned in, lips hovering over yours, whispering your name softly, like he loved the sound of it. As your breaths mingled, lightning went off behind you, the silver light illuminating his gorgeous face and all its sharp angles. Just as you moved closer, eyes fluttering shut, Seungcheol cleared his throat. 

“Y/n I’m sorry, I forgot that it’s late and we have training at 4 tomorrow.” He muttered, drawing his hands away. “You should sleep. I can’t excuse your lateness everyday.” 

And yet again Choi Seungcheol left you completely baffled as he opened the door behind him and walked in, away from you. 

Next Chapter

a/n - please send me your thoughts - this kind of writing is waaaay out of my comfort zone, I need to know I'm not completely messing shit up and if I missed you in the taglist, please lmk!

[hereforthehitsbaby]

prompt 16 with Logan on the fluff list! thinking that their messing around and reader accidentally confesses and it’s a toooootal love bomb after that

Confession | DP&W!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of a panic attack

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2.7k…did I get carried away? Yes.

Author’s Note: Okay but why am I sobbing at my own writing? This request was so cute, thank you for this nonie!

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

“Wade when I said we should watch The Wizard of Oz, I didn’t mean that you need to dress up as Dorothy and act out the entire movie!” You exclaimed in the living room, trying your hardest to suppress a laugh as Wade twirls in front of the couch. The blue and white checkered dress swirled in the air as he spun, arms wide out as he threw his head back. In the background, droning on was “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” to which Wade decided it was the perfect time to lip sync. Days like this are what you cherished most, especially when things were a bit shit all around. The world wasn’t as safe as it used to be, but in this little apartment – it was comfort. Solace, everything you all needed to wait out the storm down below.

“You may not have wanted that, but they did.” Wade lets out nonchalantly, whispering the last part at the brick wall, causing you to look around him. Every so often he would stare off into a hidden camera, like it was The Office, speaking to the “audience” about what was going on. At first it was funny, charming even – but when it got to be quips about you, it was almost instinctive how you needed to roll your eyes. Now? It was just another thing about Wade you admired, how he could keep himself entertained like this and forget how things were outside, there was no judgement but pure love and laughter. Shaking your head with a smile, you sigh out as you stand from the couch, stretching your back. “Whatever you say, Wade.” As you felt your tailbone crack, you smiled softly at the release. It felt nice to get up and walk, to stretch out a bit before engaging more with Wade’s antics of today. It was endearing to see him doing this – you knew everything was getting to him as well, and you both needed a good laugh. What you silently hoped for though, was for Logan to join the two of you.

It was obvious your feelings for him, Wade called that out the second you both first met. The way your eyes went from thin slits of weariness to full blown hearts was enough to make his head spin – Logan on the other hand seemed to have no effect. But that’s what he wanted you to think. It had been months since your apartment flooded, causing you to move two floors up with Wade, Logan, Laura and Al. But it had been the best months of your life, creating new friendships and hoping to blossom out of the awkward phase with Logan. A stoic, quiet man who truly needed this – needed a friend – needed to know he was loved. You wanted to help him with that, if only you could get over this little hump of self-doubt. It was a silent battle you faced internally; Rejection scared you and hurt more than anything else – but you’d respect the decision if it happened. The struggle was the worst part of it, how it ate you alive. Wade would always try to help quell it but alas, your mind could be very fickle.

As you made your way into the kitchen, you rounded the counter, back facing towards the living room as you hummed along with the song. Lost in your own little world, you didn’t notice when the bedroom door to the left started to slowly open, your head down to face the coffee maker as you stuck your mug underneath, using the hot water for your tea. It wasn’t until you saw something sparkling out of the corner of your eye that it caught your attention. You knew Mary Puppins had a flashy little get up, since Wade spent four days bedazzling her suit, but then you remembered Laura had taken her out for a walk a few minutes prior. Cocking your brow, you turn slowly to see what that shine is – not expecting to see what you did. “Holy shit,” you mumble out, your eyes shooting wide open. There was no proper way to react except shocked, your body freezing at the sight.

Logan was home after all, hiding away in his room. But what you didn’t realize was that Wade had gotten him to dress up for the movie. Standing there in his gray and black flannel, gray sweatpants, and white socks was your Logan – face covered in silver face paint, sparkling against the orange hued lighting of the kitchen. You stopped to stare at him, admiration making your heart grow as Wade let out a dramatic gasp, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. “Robocop has arrived!” Wade cheered, hoping over the back of the couch and standing on the opposite side of the kitchen. At the comment, Logan growled in Wade’s direction, sending him straight daggers. “Don’t give me that look, Pookie. You know what you signed up for.”

Logan could help but groan as his gaze shifted back towards you; The silvery color making his eyes glow brighter than usual. A soft green, like a meadow on a cloudy day always stared back at you. But today, it was Emerald City. The glints of golden flecks and little silvery tendrils drifted through his irises, causing your heart to race. You didn’t mean to gaze so deeply into his eyes, finding your own eyes losing focus the further you delved in. You couldn’t tell but Logan’s heart was racing a mile a minute under his shirt, his claws quivering inside his hand. “You’re taking shine bright like a diamond to a whole new level, Lo.” You let a bright smile cascade over your lips as you looked up at him, tilting your head to the side to admire his application skills. Under all the silver you could see a gentle pink blush creeping up his neck, fanning over the little exposed patch of skin beneath his flannel. It wasn’t everyday that Logan blushed – but with you, he couldn’t stop. Even at your teasing, he was a mess.

“His idea.” Logan snickered as he pointed to Wade. “Dipshit told me we were all dressing up as characters.” Of course he did, because that is just how Wade is. He always says one thing, then never tells anyone else. In a way you knew he said it for you, knowing this was your favorite movie and all. To have Logan dress up like the tinman was all for you. A simple admission you made not too long ago about how he was your childhood crush; Convincing Logan to dress up as him only seemed right. Wade could tell you both were mutually pining over one another, and he was tired of the will they won’t they. All he knew was that he wanted his two best friends to be together, to be happy; He knew you’d be good for one another. Wade blew Logan a kiss as he spun in his dress, twirling his way through the kitchen and living room.

“Wade you dirty dog.” You laugh as you roll your eyes, shifting your focus back to your now freshly brewed tea. Taking the mug away from the coffee machine, you bit your bottom lip as you giggled, nudging Logan with your shoulder. “When we need a disco ball for Al’s 70th birthday, we will just strap you to the ceiling and spin you.” You winked in his direction as you slightly raised a brow, indicating that you were joking, but also being a tease. Logan liked when you did that, finding it invigorating how his heart would pound out of his chest. A hearty, sincere laugh slipped from his silvery lips as he narrowed his gaze. Leaning against the countertop, Logan crossed his arms over his eyes, his lips turning up into a challenging smirk. “Oh yeah? You think so, beautiful?” He let out without question, tilting his head to the side as he eyed you up and down. He could hear, smell, how hard your heart was racing as he leaned closer, how your palms grew clammy, how your body shivered under his gaze. There was something so primal clawing its way beneath his skin; He wanted all of you, to be the only one to make you feel this way. “I know so!” You shot back without hesitation, trying to keep your cool.

Logan thought it was cute, how hard you were trying to fight yourself off. Trying so hard not to spill the beans or say what was on your mind. It was a game of hardball, and Logan was going to come out on top like always. Huffing with amusement, he placed his hand softly on your shoulder, letting his wade palm graze down your arm, fingers drifting over the expanse of your wrist. Leaning closer to you, only a hairsbreadth away, Logan whispered as he held your hand lovingly. “Well what if I…”  You were so entranced with how he was coming onto you, months of tension finally reaching its peak as the knife cut through it, releasing that hold on you. Closing your eyes as you prepped yourself for what he was about to do next, you pursed your lips instinctively, waiting to feel him on you. Alas, that never came.

In a singular second, Logan roughly pulled you close to him as he rubbed his face all over yours. The burn of his beard across your cheeks made you yelp out, the slippery feel of the face paint flowing over your skin made you laugh. A fit of giggles and playful pushing ignited the room, filtering out the sound of Mary Puppins and Laura coming back from their walk. You couldn’t breathe from how hard you were laughing, trying to muster up the energy to speak as Logan held you close to him. Though you felt his touch burning through your clothes, not one of a friendly nature but one of pure passion. The way he gripped your hip with one hand, and the side of your neck with the other. The way his face slid over yours, it was pure love. Your mind was reeling with endless thoughts of what it would be like to be in love with Logan, never realizing how you spoke aloud. “Ohmygod, I’m in love with an adult man-child.” The words fell out before you had anytime to think about it, not realizing what you had said as you fought yourself through the giggle fit. You didn’t realize what had come out, until Logan stopped.

The tension in the air was palpable, your heart pounding in your ears as you caught your breath. Logan stopped the ministrations on your face, his grip to your neck and hip growing harder, steadier as his breathing picked up. “In love!?” Wade and Laura yelled out from the living room, Mary Puppins gave a little bark as well. In that moment you stopped, your eyes growing wide as you panned upwards. “In love?” Logan asks, his eyes turning from a vibrant green shade to mocha, his pupils blackened. Meeting his gaze, you swallowed back the words I’m kidding, because in reality you were not. It was out there now, there was no taking it back even if you had tried. There wasn’t anything that would make this moment easier to digest, it was all or nothing. “Shit.” That was your only response. The movie in the background grew quiet. Laura, Wade, and Mary Puppins stared at you with wide eyes, trying to process it themselves. Al on the other hand sat by the open window and laughed, keeping his head towards the street below.

All you wanted to do was run; Fight or flight kicking in made you want to scream. It wasn’t the way you announced it that made you scared, nor nervous – but how Logan was staring at you. His once playful demeanor was now clouded with something unreadable, enough to make tears well in your eyes. At the end of the day, if he didn’t feel the same there were no hard feelings, and you both could live with that. But right now, you wanted to be alone, to calm down from the panic rising in your chest. “No, no running away.” Logan whispered for you, and you only. His hardened grip on your neck moved to gently hold your face, his thumb sweeping against your cheek. He could see the fear in your eyes, the unknowing – he wanted to settle that for you. Logan leaned forth to press his forehead against yours. The switch of Logan gave you whiplash; Usually he wasn’t this affectionate with his actions, always keeping to himself, not thinking himself worthy of love. But today, that all changed. “Sweetheart…do you mean that?” Logan’s voice broke slightly as he asked, his own eyes welling with tears.

“Of course she does! She’s in lov-“ Wade began, not even giving you a second to explain yourself. Logan grew tense at hearing him speak. He never pushed his face away from yours as he growled out into the room. “Shut the fuck up!” A shiver ran down your spine at the dominance in his voice, your hands instinctively going out to hold onto his hip as you steadied your breathing. “Ohhh my god,” was all Wade could respond with as he sunk back into the couch, Laura holding her hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything more. It was now or never; Forever hold your peace or tell Logan how you really felt and see where it led from there. Taking a deep breath, you nodded against Logan’s forehead, a shaky breath exhaling from your parted lips. “I do.” The words felt right coming out, there was no line of awkwardness or reluctance to them. It was the truth, and now it was known.

You refused to open your eyes as stare at Logan, hearing the deep inhalation he made at your comment. You knew if you opened your eyes tears would fall, and you were not about to have that. Nothing came to mind on what you could say, nor could you move from where you were planted. Internally you begged someone to say something, to break the silence. Logan must’ve heard your internal thoughts. “Finally, didn’t know how long we were going to play that game, sweetheart.” Logan let out, causing you to open your eyes. He extended himself to his full height as he held your face, peering down into your soul with a genuine, loving smile. It was in that moment his words fully clicked inside of your brain, the mutual pining was over. “I’ve been in love with you since day one. I could tell you were too, but I didn’t want to come on too strong, if you weren’t ready. I wanted it to be on your terms, when you felt it was right.” Logan’s word held you tightly, holding you close to show you just how loved you are, how cherished you are, how appreciated you are. You could tell Logan had more he wanted to say but, actions speak louder than words.

Surging forth, you pressed your lips lovingly against Logan, feeling how the world faded around you. The dull, orange lighting of the kitchen burnt out around you. The hum of the coffee maker, fridge, and lights became silent. The only thing that could be heart was your heartbeats, merging into one. Around you swirled endless love and possibilities, flecks of the brightest yellows and blues flowing out like clockwork, binding you two together. This feels so right. Everything felt so right. Logan felt so right. Nothing in life ever felt like this, nothing ever felt meant to be. Only now did you realize, the love you have been waiting your entire life for, finally arrived. In the form of Logan Howlett, The Wolverine. Your hero.

-----

Hugh Jackman Taglist: @anamiad00msday @coowayeoo

Logan Howlett Taglist: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444

[lumosinlove]

Seeking hope and happiness, especially today, and found some in these three...

On The Line

Part Six

~

New York was much as Logan remembered it. This city seemed to do nothing but change, so its fast paced lights and sidewalks always seemed the same. Finn refused to stay anywhere but Manhattan, but if his happy expression as he stood at their suite’s large windows while sipping his coffee resulted in earlier mornings for the both of them, Logan didn’t care.

He poured a cup of his own and joined him at the window. Central Park’s leaves hadn’t turned yet. Early joggers and cyclists were out. People walked their dogs. The world felt awake and happy, and Finn’s arm around his waist was warm.

The qualifiers were over, the first rounds blown through. The semifinals were today. Logan had taken out Winter easily to get past the quarterfinals, and today he’d go up against Luke. Leo had fought hard to get through Black and succeeded, which had upset and surprised everyone—even those who were hoping for another grueling Tremblay-Knut match up in the final.

Logan knew he should be nervous for tonight’s match. He had to focus on Luke, who had a way of sneaking up on people. Instead, all he could think about was the prospect of meeting Leo in the finals.

“He sleeping?” Finn asked.

“Shower,” Logan said. “He was singing last I checked.”

“Singing what?”

“I don’t know.”

Finn scoffed. “Yes, you do.”

“Willow.”

Ah-ha.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but settled his head against Finn’s chest. The park looked so peaceful. The runners knew just where they were going around the circular track of the lake. The dog walkers would soon make their way back home. Logan didn’t know what would happen tonight—if he’d make it, or if he would lose this chance at another title. He wondered when he would get tired of chasing titles. It hadn’t quite happened yet. Something still ignited in his chest when he thought about winning. It was similar to the feeling he got when he thought about those two, prized first kisses he’d received. He liked Finn in the stands. He liked the grueling training Finn designed for him.

“How you feeling?” Finn asked, scratching his fingers through Logan’s hair. “You’re playing good. Smooth. I’m proud.”

Logan nodded, settling more of his weight against him. “I’m good.” He hesitated, but Finn would find out sooner or later. Logan would end up blurting it out in a different moment just like this one. “Nervous.”

“I know,” Finn said. “But we knew this was always a possibility.”

“But now it’s close. And real.”

“Oh, you’re so sure you’re going to take Luke.” When Logan just looked at him, Finn laughed. “Yeah, okay, killer.”

“I don’t want to hurt Le.”

Finn stayed quiet for a moment. Logan closed his eyes, letting him mess with his hair, rub his neck, do anything he wanted while he thought. One time he accidentally started doing it when a few reporters caught up with them around the practice courts, and there hadn’t been a camera there but they had sure gotten a few laughs.

“You’re not hurting anyone, Lo. You’re doing your job. Leo will be in the game longer than you. He’s talented and driven and younger.” Finn looked down at him. “I think the only thing that would hurt him is you…like, going easy on him or something.”

Logan scoffed. “Going easy?”

“Not that you would. God knows you’re too stubborn for that.”

Logan let his eyes unfocus, filled only with the green and brown smudges of the park far below. A siren wailed somewhere—a sound he always associated with the beginning of a grueling hardcourt season. He already knew Finn would be setting up multiple massage appointments for him—and thought about asking Finn to do it himself like he sometimes did.

“I want to beat him. That’s there, just like in practice,” Logan said carefully. “I just… I need a way to separate it.” Logan ran his hand down Finn’s arm until he reached his wrist. He traced over the taut tendons there from holding his coffee. “I don’t remember how I did it with you. I just—I need it to be about the game and not about us because…”

Finn’s fingers paused from messing with his hair. His thumb brushed Logan’s eyebrow, and Logan took the cue and looked up at him.

“Because I love him,” Logan whispered.

A new sort of flame caught behind Finn’s eyes. His laugh was soft, satiny, and he cupped Logan’s chin in light fingertips.

“Ouais,” Logan whispered against Finn’s mouth. “Finn, I do, I do…” Finn was hushing him, smiling, nodding, then kissing him.

“Shower’s free,” Leo’s voice said.

Logan looked to see him with a towel around his waist and another in his hands, drying off his hair roughly. The droplets of water on his chest shone as brightly as the gold chain around his neck.

“I mean,” Leo continued, grinning. “Technically, it was free while I was in it, too. If we’re covering all our bases here.”

“I have to shower,” Finn said, setting his coffee down. “So, why are you toweling off?”

Leo laughed and threw the towel in a perfect straight snap to Finn’s chest.

Finn just grinned, grabbing his face for a sloppy kiss as he passed by. He turned. “Lo, eat a light breakfast and stretch now so we can get some hitting in early. And Le…” He stopped in his tracks, halfway through the bathroom doorway before he retraced his steps and took Leo around the waist for a slower, softer kiss. It left his shirt damp. He hooked a finger in Leo’s gold chain. “See you for lunch?”

Logan still managed to forget Leo wasn’t coming down to the courts with him more often than not. He’d grown so used to spending every single moment together. Seeing him across the practice courts, alone, and tall, and beautiful, felt so, so strange. Sometimes Finn had to stop Logan from crossing the lines at the sound of Leo’s coach’s harsh barks at him…Sometimes Logan had to stop Finn.

Leo bit his lip, shoulders falling some, and shook his head. “Probably not.”

Logan frowned. He took it all back. This was the hardest part. The days where they hardly saw each other. “When?”

“I’ll stick around after I play Lupin,” Leo said, offering a smile as he wiped at the water he’d gotten on Finn’s shirt. “Watch you kick Luke’s ass.”

Logan brightened. “You will?” What if you lose? There was no way Leo’s team would want him out at Logan’s match for the camera to find if he lost.

“Fuck ‘em,” Leo said, reading his mind, then looked at Finn. “But I probably shouldn’t sit with you.”

Finn’s mouth pulled to the side unhappily, but he nodded. “I know…All right, well, have a late dinner with us?”

“Gotta ask coach,” Leo said. “But I want to. Will you text me where you guys end up?”

Logan set his coffee down too, mostly untouched. “Le, we won’t leave without you. Tell your team your having dinner with—with friends, if you have to.”

“They can’t deny you us.” Finn brushed his knuckles down Leo’s cheek. “We’re yours.”

“Sweetheart…” Leo caught Finn’s hand and kissed it. “You are.”

But Leo sighed, and it sounded so heavy and exhausted that Logan wanted to take them both back to his house, back to the sun and the pool, and the open kitchen that wouldn’t ever feel the same without Leo’s happy humming in it.

Logan crossed the room and fit into Leo’s other side. He settled his palm on his neck, making Leo look at him. I love you. I love you.

“I’ll try,” Leo said. He put his hand over Logan’s. “You know I’ll try.”

~

Leo won his match. Logan caught the end of it on the warm-up room televisions while rolling out his back on the mats. Luke was on the other side of the room. Maybe they would have been watching together, had they not been about to play, but Logan was glad for the quiet. Finn was off somewhere preparing Logan’s drinks and fruit. He’d started leaving little messages on the insides of bottle caps and the back of Logan’s plastic forks. Love you. The camera had already caught one that said you’re hot and so he’d been sticking to love. Logan had realized that the camera caught it and had shown it on the big screen once the crowd laughed, so he’d made a point of tapping it, eyes on the camera, and pointing to himself. That had won him big media points. One headline had even read Heart Grew Three Sizes That Day.

Leo was doing well. He looked strong and energetic, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet while he waited for a serve. Logan paused, letting himself rest with his neck on the roller as he took him in. He looked devastating in the outfit his sponsors had chosen. All black, all the way to the headband tied around his golden hair.

His returns were like water. He hit a backhand, forehand, backhand, before whipping the ball down the line so perfectly that Logan had to inhale and close his eyes, pushing the roller from his neck to shoulders. The perfect dig into his sore muscles couldn’t come close to Leo’s hands on him, especially with Finn’s dark eyes watching the two of them over Leo’s shoulder.

“I know what you’re think-ing a-bout,” Finn’s sing-song voice came.

Logan opened his eyes to see Finn standing there. He held a clear cup of fruit, and three water bottles. One was clear, untouched. The other was orange, filled with vitamin C, the third pink with hydration powder.

“Ha,” Finn said. He set the bottles down as he crouched by Logan’s side. “I was right, I can tell.”

Logan pushed himself up to sit. “You were right.”

“Actually. You were,” Finn said. He twisted a bottle cap off and flashed its reverse at him.

I <3 him 2

~

From the court, Logan found Leo in in the crowd easily, smiling and accepting congratulations for his win. He had shed the black, sponsored clothes. For Logan, he was sunny in white and light blue. Only a small smile and a slight flutter of his fingers let Logan know Leo had seen him, too. Hi, it might have said. Or, good luck.

When Logan looked to Finn, Finn flashed him a thumbs up and patted a hand over his chest. You got this. Love ya.

Logan liked all of his and Finn’s secret messages to each other while he was on court. He wanted more of that with Leo. He wanted to be able to know for sure what ever inch of Leo meant. Every movement. He wanted Leo to know in turn that he had seen him, that he—

“Time violation,” came the umpire’s voice.

Logan blinked. Around him the audience was murmuring. He jerked his head up to the chair. The umpire was looking at him impatiently. He didn’t remember coming to stand at the baseline, but he found himself holding the ball close to his racket like he was about to bring it up for a serve. How long had he been standing that way? He looked at Finn, who was now standing up and had concern written all over his face. Lo?

Leo. Logan found him in the crowd again. Sweet-eyed. Just as concerned. Nodding at him. What did that mean? I know? It’s okay? I understand? You got this?

Logan bounced the ball, once, twice, caught a glimpse of Luke’s taken off-guard face, and served. Ace. No one could touch that shot from him. Maybe Leo could.

Leo definitely could. With his reach, with his step, with his glorious elegance. Logan narrowed in again. This was his game. His war within as his body fought to reach the finals—even while his mind dreaded playing Leo. And longed for it.

Luke put up a fight, but he simply wasn’t as quick. Logan’s win came to him easily in the third set, off a slice that cut the ball to drop right over the net.

“Game, set, match, Tremblay,” echoed through the stadium.

Luke met him at the net, clasping his hand and slapping him on the back.

“Nice one. You good?” Look said in his ear.

“I’m in love,” Logan said.

Luke pulled back, giving him a look, then laughed. “Lucky you, then, Tremblay.”

~

Finn was waiting for him in the tunnel, as usual. Instead of the usual hard hug—which Logan had been looking forward to—he put oh-so gentle hands to Logan’s face, looking between his eyes for signs of harm.

“You okay?” he asked softly. “What happened with that time violation? You just…You just stood there for a second, I thought you were gonna pass out on me or something.”

Logan shook his head. “Where’s Leo?” Then, surprising himself, he laughed. He took Finn’s face in his hands, a mirror, and kissed him hard. “Where is he?”

“I…” Finn laughed, too, shaking his head. “I don’t know, maybe waiting for the car if he got away—”

Logan wrapped his arms tightly around Finn’s neck. He pressed a kiss to Finn’s cheek. “I love you, mon Rouge. Mon coeur, lumière, éternité…”

Finn’s hands pressed into his back. “I love you. God, I love you, too, but Lo, just say you’re good. Say it to me.”

“I am,” Logan said, tucking his face into his neck. “I am.”

Logan tried not to appear as insane as he felt when he was stopped to sign autographs. He was probably full on grinning in photos with fans more than he had in his entire career. Finn stood a step apart, like a watchful bodyguard. He signed a few autographs and took a few pictures of his own. He placed a hand low on Logan’s back and guided him out of the arena towards where the car would be waiting.

And there he was. Logan felt like some string had been cut then refastened. All the parts of him yearning to get to Leo in that crowd, standing frozen on that court, tethered themselves to the golden boy waiting at the curb.

He would have kissed him right there. He would have willed the world’s attention their way—but first them. Just them. First, this had to be theirs.

He didn’t have to call out Leo’s name. He heard them coming and turned. The grin he gave Logan was filled with the win he himself had under his belt.

He slipped his phone into his pocket. “Late dinner, yeah? Tastes fifty times better after a win.” When Logan got close, Leo wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned in, away from the cameras. “Good game, Lo. You all right?”

Logan nodded and yanked open the door of the car. He guided Leo through, then Finn, who went with a wink.

The car was dark, darker than the night was outside with its people and camera lights. The door shut and took the noise with it. Finn and Leo sat in the seats opposite Logan. There was a driver, Finn was giving him a restaurant name, but Logan didn’t care. Leo had a hand on Finn’s thigh, accepting a kiss.

“He’ll say he’s fine, but you tell me,” Leo said. “Is he okay? On the court, I thought—”

Logan leaned across the pristine black carpet of the car. He steadied himself on the smooth leather seat with one hand, his other high on Leo’s thigh, and kissed Leo’s surprised mouth.

“Okay,” Leo mumbled, steadying Logan with two hands on his waist. “Moving car? Seatbelts?”

“If you’re in the stands, I want you in my box,” Logan said. “If I’m in the stands, I want to be in your box.” He feathered lighter kisses up Leo’s cheek. “I want to sit next to Finn. I want you to be able to hear us when you go for a towel. I want to be able to hear you both.”

Leo sent Finn a look through the kisses, smiling. “Okay…”

“I don’t care what your team thinks. I don’t care if they think I’m listening, or Finn’s plotting and stealing.” Logan pulled back to look down at him. “If they think I would use you in that way, they’re stupid.”

“You and adrenaline are quite the cocktail,” Leo said, but he was blushing.

Logan let himself fall back into his own seat. “And you look perfect in black.”

“A crazy cocktail, but he speaks the truth.” Finn held out a water bottle to Logan. “Drink that whole thing. Even the dregs, I’m watching you, Tremblay.”

Logan took the bottle, shaking up the hydration powder inside. “What do I get if I do?”

Finn just smiled. He was unwrapping silver foil from a piece of blue peppermint gum gum and he popped it into his mouth. “I’ll blow you in the restaurant bathroom.”

Logan blinked. “Really?”

Finn reached forward and flicked him on the forehead.

They reached Manhattan again quickly enough, and curled into the twisting streets of the West Village. Finn perked up, happy to be on familiar ground and popped the car door.

“After you,” Leo said, just as Logan motioned for him to go first. “Oh—ha. Lo, go.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “You.”

“Not that this isn’t adorable, but…” Finn leaned down. “If I’m hungry, you guys must be starving.” He held out his hand to Leo. “Guess what they have here?”

Leo put his hand in Finn’s. “What?”

“Deconstructed chocolate cake,” Finn said, helping him out.

“What the fuck is that?” Logan asked, following.

“Sugar. You’ll love it.”

Logan sent Leo a look as Finn jogged ahead and disappeared between large, wooden doors. Inside, Logan caught a glimpse of windows lined with candles. Leo would look gorgeous.

“That was pretty sweet back there,” Leo said. He took his hand as they walked. “You sure you’re all right?”

“I was fine on the court,” Logan said, pulling the door open. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” Leo asked.

The candlelight was already hitting him, and Logan thought about telling him right there in this doorway with Finn and a—blushing—waiter looking expectantly at them.

“Just thinking,” Logan said. “All good things.”

“Um,” the waiter tucked her hair behind her ear. “This way.”

“Thanks so much,” Finn beamed.

“Classic O’Hara,” Leo whispered. He moved Logan’s hand from his left to his right and placed his hand low on Logan’s back. “But we both won today. Who’s he gonna let taste the wine?”

Logan laughed. “It’s going to be you.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling I have.”

~

It didn’t feel like a day off. Not without Leo there. The two female finalists were playing their match today, and at dinner Logan had been relieved at the idea that he’d have a whole day off with Leo before they had to go against each other—until Leo told them his coach wanted him to stay away. 

He woke up earlier than usual and in a too empty room. Finn, warm and solid against his back—but no Leo. He wasn’t sure why he was even awake until he felt the next stroke of fingers through his hair, absentminded and soft. It would put him straight back to sleep soon.

“Rouge,” Logan mumbled. His voice wasn’t quite there yet, coming out a gravely sort of whisper.

“Sorry,” Finn whispered back. “I was just looking at you. Go back to sleep.”

Logan pushed back against him. “I’m turned away.”

“I was looking at the rest of you.”

The sheets were near his hips now that he thought about it. Finn’s hand ran down the dip of his ribs and waist.

Logan settled into the feeling, but when Finn’s fingers moved back to his hair, he sighed and rolled onto his back, getting a hand under Finn’s head to pull him onto his chest. He closed his eyes, pressed five hard kisses to Finn’s temple, and felt Finn let out a long sigh.

“What’s up?” Logan asked.

“Leo. If there was any day he should have been able to be with us, it was today, when we have nothing going on, and the training is light because you play tomorrow.” Finn’s fingers began drumming on his chest, restless. A rare show of nerves. “He should be here right now.”

Logan could see Finn in Nice. In his library nook for the first time. Head in his hands, finally allowing himself to cry away an old life to let the new one in. This, he thought, was a version of it. Worries, brimming over because they had not been let out.

He passed his fingers through Finn’s hair. Kissed his temple and his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have talked to his team—”

“Non,” Logan said. “They’re angry people. I think. That wouldn’t have helped. But, hey. Look at me.”

Finn did. Sleepy brown eyes. He traced a thumb under one lower set of fair eyelashes. There was lilac there.

“No more worrying,” Logan whispered. He brushed his mouth, feather-light, over the delicate skin just under Finn’s eye.

“I’m not worried—no, I am.”

“It gets like this when you’re stressed.” Logan kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “It’s gorgeous, but it’s not good for you.”

Finn sighed and let Logan press him back into the pillows to be kissed. His jaw. His neck. “He’s not happy. I mean, he’s happy with us. But in the game. In this life. He used to be happier. At the Wimbledon Ball. He was happier.”

“How do you know? We weren’t seeing a lot of him then.” Logan’s mouth found the valley between his collarbones. Was there anything better than this? It woke him up like coffee, and settled him down like nothing else. Sometimes, panicking on the court, he pictured this. Soft and unhurried. Usually, Leo was there for him to kiss, too. “Let’s get dressed. Then call him. Tell him he has to have breakfast with us.”

Finn smiled. “What, or else?”

“Or else I…” Logan tried to think of something good, but honestly he wasn’t meant to be awake this early. He pressed his face into Finn’s neck, his hand to his cheek. He inhaled, kissed him there, then pulled back and kissed him properly. “I love him.”

Finn smiled. “I love him, too.”

It rang. Rang and rang.

“Hey, it’s Leo, sorry I missed you!”

Again. Logan leaned his forehead against the warm window pane, standing in a square of sun coming into their room.

“Hey, it’s Leo, sorry I missed you!”

“Fuck.” Logan turned, waiting for the beep.

Finn watched his face as he pulled a t-shirt over his head. His skin was still slightly damp from his shower and Logan, worried as he was, enjoyed the way it stuck to his chest.

“Hi, Le,” Logan said. “It’s us. Just wondering where you are…”

“Missing you,” Finn mumbled, bending down to lace up his shoes.

“We miss you, we are going to get breakfast at the place. Okay. Lo—Okay, cool.” Finn’s head snapped up with an open-mouthed smile. Logan flushed. “Okay, come find us, or we’ll find you.”

He hung up fast, staring at his phone. Finn crossed the room, taking Logan’s face in his hands.

“You almost said—” he began to say, laughing through the words.

Logan pushed up on his toes and kissed him silent. He pulled back, knowing his eyes were wide, and pressed three fingers to Finn’s mouth. “Quiet.”

Finn gave his chin a little jerk and took Logan’s fingers in his mouth, smiling around the gentle bite. Logan rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away.

“C’mere, lover.” Finn wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “I’ve got the room key. I’m taking you to a big breakfast full of eggs, ham, and calling Leo every five minutes.”

~

Finn got restless again and they had barely taken a sip of their coffees. Logan could tell. What they had started calling “the” place was a small coffee shop that Finn knew. It made generous omelettes with sides of potatoes and greens. Spicy beans and fried eggs with tortillas—Leo’s favorite. Logan had stared at it at the menu, wondering if ordering it would make him arrive faster.

A plate with a steaming chocolate croissant appeared in front of him, and Finn pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“There you go, sweetheart.” Finn slid into his seat. “I ordered for us. But I didn’t want to sit here with you while you’re hangry and drinking your coffee-milk, so…”

Logan shoved him, but Finn just pulled their chairs together and took out his phone. Logan ripped off a piece of the croissant and watched Finn find Leo’s contact. When he held it up to his ear, Logan watched Finn’s face. Hopeful. He caught Logan’s eye and put a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing.

“Hi,” Finn said, but the sigh in his voice told Logan no one had answered. “Hey, Sunshine. Us again. We’re here. Just…wondering where you are.” Finn looked at Logan, mouth pulling to the side. “Let us know.” He ran a thumb over Logan’s bottom lip. “Okay. Okay, love you, bye.”

Finn set his phone down, hand falling down to Logan’s lower back. “Maybe he’s sleeping and we’re assholes trying to wake him up.”

“It’s almost eleven.”

“Yeah…” Finn picked up the water pitcher on the table and filled Logan’s glass. Logan picked it up again and filled Finn’s.

“What did you order?”

“Got us the ham and tomato omelettes. Sound good?”

“Ouais. Thanks.”

They quieted, then laughed a little at each other when they realized they were both waiting for the phone to ring.

Finn was worrying the straw of his iced coffee when he set the cup down hard. “Oh my God.”

“Hm?” Logan got to the chocolatey center of the croissant and carefully bit so he got enough chocolate and enough pastry.

“Logan…”

Logan raised his eyebrows at his full name from Finn’s mouth. “Finn…” He mimicked his tone, but got serious when Finn put both of his hands in his hair, gripping. “Finn. Quoi?”

“I just—oh my God.”

“What?”

“I just…” Finn’s hands moved over his mouth. “Did I?”

Logan set the pastry down. “Did you what? Did you fucking what?”

He looked so panicked that Logan started looking around, trying to figure out the problem. But Finn grabbed his hand, pulling his attention back to him.

“At the end of the message, I said…” Finn whispered. “I said love you.”

Logan blinked. “What?”

They both stared down at Finn’s phone and its dark screen.

“Shit,” Logan said. “Wait, ouais. You—you did. Finn.”

Finn melted, folding his head into his arms and slumping on the table.

Logan laughed, but he wasn’t sure if it was actually funny. That wasn’t how he’d planned for Leo to know. Of all the opportunities they’d had. Dinners and late nights and soft afternoons.

“And after you made fun of me for almost saying it.”

“Shut up,” Finn mumbled into his arms. When he lifted his head, his face was flushed. “It just slipped out. I—shit. I was looking at you and your stupid chocolate, and then I saw the hot sauce on the table and I was thinking about him and the amount he puts on his fucking eggs—”

“You said okay, love you, bye.”

“I know that!”

“Two omelettes?”

They both looked up at the waiter, who took a step back—probably at the panicked look in their eyes.

“Um,” he said. “No? Not omelettes?”

“No, no,” Finn said. “I mean, yes, omelettes. Thank you so much.”

The man set the plates down with a look on his face like he wanted to get out of there. It probably had something to do with the way Finn still had his head in his hands.

Logan rubbed a hand down his back. “It’s fine. Baby, it’s fine. We do love him.”

“And he finds out on a voicemail?” Finn’s voice came out muffled through his hands. “So bad. Jesus.”

“Maybe he’s not gonna listen?”

“Maybe.” For a moment, Finn sounded almost placated, but he jerked his head up. “No phone.”

Logan nudged his plate at him. “Eat something.”

Finn turned his body towards him in his chair. “You’re playing tomorrow.”

“Finn, what the fuck?”

“I want you eating and drinking and resting.”

“Finn, what…” He gestured to his food. “Ouais. What does this look like?”

“When do you not have your phone?”

“When I’m…” Logan trailed off, finally understanding. “Non. That would be insane.”

Finn stood, gesturing to the waiter. “Let’s get this to go.”

They arrived at the practice courts in the heat of the day. Logan heard Leo before he saw him. He heard him like he’d heard him every day during those perfect months at his house. Leo had a rhythm all his own. His footwork. Quick shuffles, short squeaks of his sneakers on the hard court.

But Logan should not have been able to hear it right then. Not less than twenty hours before the U.S. Open final.

“Fuck,” Finn said, pushing a fence open. “He’s on the court.”

“Again!” they heard Leo’s coach shout.

“Fuck,” Finn cursed. “I’m gonna kill that guy.”

Logan watched him storm towards the next fence, past another player practicing with a hitter—who missed his shot when he saw Finn.

“Wait,” Logan called. “Rouge!”

Finn stopped, but barely. Every muscle in his body strained towards Leo’s court just ahead. Logan could see him now, just barely through netting and bushes and low court walls. Logan caught glimpses of blond hair as he jogged towards Finn.

“What?” Finn asked. “He shouldn’t be out there.”

Logan put his hands on his shoulders. “Stop. I know. But stop.”

Leo was on the baseline. His coach stood beside him, talking fast while Leo’s chest heaved.

“Let me go alone,” Logan said. “If it’s you, his team will get defensive. If it’s me, it’s not their business. It’s player to player.”

Finn looked conflicted. “I…” He looked towards Leo, too. “He shouldn’t be out there.”

“I know.”

“I do love him.”

“I know,” Logan said softly. “Look. I’ll get him in the locker room. You’ll be waiting there. Let me.”

He left Finn, all the while sure he would break and follow him. But he didn’t. Logan made it past another court and opened the chain-fence door into the sidelines of Leo’s. Leo was mid-rally, so his coach saw him first. The man scowled. Logan scowled back.

Leo’s hitter sent the ball into the net.

“Leo,” the coach called. Leo looked at him as he rolled out one of his ankles gingerly. A sharp nod directed his attention to Logan and, despite everything, the heat and how tired he obviously was, a smile broke over Leo’s face and jogged over.

“Hi,” Leo said, but held out his hand. “I want to, but don’t hug me.” He jerked his head subtly towards his team. “They already think I’m going to be soft on you tomorrow and I don’t…” Leo swallowed. He let out a breath. “Anyway. Hi. What are you doing here?”

Logan’s whole chest hurt. “What about I kiss you instead?”

That, at least, made Leo smile. One blue eye squinted shut against the sun. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Logan fired back.

He squirted Logan lightly with his water bottle. “You spying on me, Tremblay?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Logan said.

“That’s cute. A little desperate, but cute.”

“Leo.”

“I’m training,” Leo said. “I don’t know if you heard, but I’m going up against Logan Tremblay tomorrow. He’s pretty good.”

“Which is why you should be resting.”

Leo was quiet for a moment, then he looked around. “So, where’s Finn freaking out right now?”

Logan bit the inside of his cheek and looked towards the locker room building.

“You two are sweet, you know that?” Leo reached out and briefly stroked a knuckle down the center of Logan’s chest. “Look, I’m almost finished here. Then I’ll find you. I know how to take care of myself. Finn knows that, too, or he should.”

“He actually—We actually need to talk to you about something else.”

Leo frowned. “Oh?”

“Just—” Logan itched to take his hand. “Come? Please? Just for a moment.”

Leo still looked concerned, but he nodded. “Okay. Hold on.”

His coach had his arms crossed. His narrow eyes tracked Leo as he came towards him. The argument was hushed and intense. It ended with Leo grabbing his bags with an angry sort of strength. Logan knew how heavy those bags got. Leo swung them onto his shoulders like they were nothing, just beautiful baby blue and white leather there to make his hair turn even more golden.

When he reached Logan again, he looked more tired than before.

“Give me,” Logan said. Leo didn’t protest when Logan took his racket bag from him and shouldered it himself.

“You’re not supposed to be seen with Adidas.”

“They can kiss my ass.”

“Lo—”

“Then they can explain why they have a problem with me helping my boyfriend.”

Leo lightened up at those words like he always did. As they ducked away from the court, he wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders and kissed him. Logan wanted to whisper the phrase into his skin until it stayed with him forever, kept in that sweet freckle just under his chin.

Finn was pacing when they walked in, and then he was rushing over, holding Leo’s shoulders.

“What the hell are you doing out there in the sun? You’ve got a match tomorrow.”

“Backhand,” Leo said. He glanced at Logan. “Mine’s not as good. Coach wants…” He sighed. Annoyance was all over him. Stress. Logan hated it. He wanted to smooth it all away with his fingers, wanted to touch every inch of him to make sure it wasn’t there. “I don’t know what he wants. Oh. By the way…” He leaned forward and planted a soft, quick kiss to Finn’s worried mouth. “Hi.”

Finn pulled him in, leaving one arm open for Logan.

“I’m so sweaty, sorry,” Leo said.

Logan pushed his nose into his chest. Okay, love you, bye.

“Missed you this morning,” Finn said. “We thought…We thought we’d get to…”

There were a million ways Logan would have finished that sentence. Sleep in, breakfast, kiss, lounge, shower, read, talk, sex, doze, stretch, breathe.

“So did I,” Leo sighed. Logan felt his fingers in his hair, a kiss pressed to his forehead and held there. “Fuck. So did I.”

“Do you have your phone?” Finn asked. “With you?”

“It’s in my bag.” Leo arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

Finn just stared at him, but Logan saw each thought pass in his face as if he’d said it.

Leo saw it, too, though he didn’t know enough to understand and laughed instead, unsure. “What the hell is up with you two?”

“We’re in a locker room,” Finn whispered to Logan.

Leo looked between them. “O’Hara, what is happening?”

“I cannot do this in a locker room.”

“Do what?”

Finn groaned, then laughed, then sat down on a bench and covered his face. “I left you a voicemail today. Ugh. Well. We left you a few.”

“I’m sorry,” Leo began but Finn shook his head.

“No, no. It’s okay. It’s just—the last one I left…” His hands dragged down his face lightly, making his brown eyes look big and sad. “Ugh. Leo. I’m such an idiot.”

Leo sat down beside him, hand on Finn’s knee. “Finn…You’re not. You’re not an idiot.” He glanced up at Logan, all concerned and blue, sweat still dripping down from the ends of his hair. “The last one you left…what?”

Finn straightened. He set his hand over Leo’s. Then he held it in both and brought his knuckles to his mouth.

“When I was hanging up, I told you that I loved you,” Finn said. “And I do.”

Logan wanted to hear him say it again, in that soft way. He sank onto the bench on Leo’s other side, the very same words burning in his chest. He put his mouth to the warm fabric of Leo’s t-shirt shoulder, curling a hand around his bicep. There was a fine tremor to Leo’s muscles. Logan didn’t know if he was tired, or if it was the words, but Leo was shaking, just a little.

Logan couldn’t help it. Where he was tucked against Leo’s shoulder, he smiled. “Leo…”

The laugh jostled Logan first, and then it sounded, light and a little tearful, from Leo’s mouth. He grabbed for Finn’s shoulder, pulling him in for something that was more a smile than a kiss.

“You just blurted that out, huh?” Leo cupped the back of Finn’s neck. “Jesus, O’Hara, you had me so worried there.”

“I love you,” Finn said. “I—Logan…”

Leo laughed louder, freer, as Logan gripped the back of his t-shirt until Leo turned.

Logan swiped a thumb over Leo’s full bottom lip. He just wanted to touch that smile. He kissed him, hard, tasting the sweat from his practice.

“I love you,” Logan whispered. “I was supposed to say it first, I love you.”

“Supposed to?” Finn spluttered.

“Shh,” Logan said into Leo’s mouth. “Look how happy he is, I can taste it.”

“I love you, too,” Leo said. He pressed his nose against Logan’s cheek, then turned back to Finn. “Oh God, I love you, too.”

Logan watched them kiss. Laugh. Dissolve into each other—Finn’s chin on Leo’s shoulder, eyes closed, fingers scratching through the back of his hair. Logan put a hand on Leo’s back and felt his muscles relax. All the tension from the court earlier bled away. And tomorrow…Tomorrow’s match felt very far away.

“Let’s go,” Leo said. “I’m sweaty and hot and in love.”

“Wow, speaking Logan’s language,” Finn said.

Leo laughed, but when he stood he sent an almost nervous glance towards the door. “Quick. Before anyone tries to pull me back out there.”

“You shouldn’t have been out there in the first place,” Finn said.

Leo sighed with a smile. “Finn.”

Finn stood, hands up in surrender. “Let’s get out of here.”

~

Logan could relax because it was the three of them. He was finishing off a plate of pasta and chicken balanced on his thighs. Finn sat with his computer perched on the arm of the couch with Logan’s feet in his lap. One thumb dug perfectly into Logan’s arch. Leo was laying on the ground, stretching out his back and—well. Smiling the whole time.

“I keep thinking about the Wimbledon Ball,” Leo said.

“You scolded me for leading,” Logan said.

“I didn’t scold,” Leo laughed. “I wanted you to know you could trust me.”

Logan sat up and set his plate down on the hotel’s coffee table. He pulled his feet from Finn’s lap—Finn wrapped a hand around his ankle and held on long enough for Logan to lean in and kiss him. Logan pressed down against Finn as that hand smoothed up his calve, behind his knee. Up his thigh, resting on his ass for a moment before settling on his lower back to press them together harder.

Logan smiled against Finn’s mouth, then slipped out of his hold. He made his way to where Leo lay on his back and stood over him, one foot pressed against each of his hips.

“Trust you?” he repeated.

Leo stretched his arms over his head, grinning. He was wearing Finn’s sweatshirt. He’d caught the worn cuffs in his hands and it pulled the hem halfway up his chest. Logan wanted to put his teeth on the cut of his waist, he really did.

“Mhm,” Leo said. “You didn’t. You thought I was trying to get inside your head.”

“You were.” Logan narrowed his eyes. “You just said so—trying to get me to trust you.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Fine. Fine. But you thought I was trying to beat you. And I wasn’t.” He pulled his arms down. Like Finn, his palms found the back of Logan’s ankles. Then his calves. Then the back of his thighs. Only, Leo pulled gently and Logan lowered himself into straddling his hips. Leo smiled and pushed down on his thighs until Logan let his full weight go. “I wasn’t trying to beat you. I was trying to win you.”

A soft laugh came from the couch. “I knew something had to be up when you blatantly asked to dance with my boyfriend.”

“Would have asked you, too,” Leo said, eyes trained on Logan’s as Logan lowered himself down onto his forearms. They were nose to nose now. “A boy can only find so many excuses in one night.”

“And what are you gonna try to do tomorrow?” Logan asked.

“Oh,” Leo whispered. He picked his head up just enough to capture Logan’s bottom lip gently between his teeth—a pull and release that sent Logan’s hips rocking down against him. “Beat you.”

“Please find the bed,” Finn said absentmindedly. His eyes were on his laptop, and he’d put his glasses on. “Your knees get enough stress as it is. And don’t go crazy. I need you rested. And not sore.” Finn looked over at them and Logan wondered if he knew how red his ears were. “Both of you.”

“I’ll find a bed, if you promise to find us when you’re done with that computer,” Leo shot back.

Finn slapped the laptop shut. “What computer?”

~

Coin toss. They weren’t even playing yet and Logan was already sweating with the sun at his back.

“Mr. Tremblay?” the Umpire presented him with the coin. “You will choose?”

“Heads,” Logan said.

“Very well. Heads. Mr. Knut, you will be tails.”

Logan was trying not to look at Leo too hard, but it was difficult. Every time they caught each other’s eye, they both had to suppress a smile. There was joy in this. Logan dreaded to win and dreaded to lose, but there was joy. Leo across from him. The game he loved. Leo, being his.

The coin flashed in the sun as it got tossed up. It rattled, looping around on its edges for a moment before settling between their feet.

“Tails.” The Umpire looked at Leo. “Mr. Knut, you will…”

“Serve first,” Leo said.

“Knut, first service. Thank you, gentlemen.”

Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes. If Leo thought he was going to get to take a few points off of Logan with that massive serve of his, he was wrong.

It seemed to take ages for the crowd to settle down. New York was always loud, but they were more riled by the idea of of Leo and Logan on the court once again. Logan leaned down to re-tie his shoes and tried to steady his breathing. He turned to look up at Finn, who had a baseball cap on—one of Logan’s sponsors—and was leaning forward on his elbows. He was rubbing his palms together, his eyes on Leo. When he noticed Logan looking, he dropped a wink.

Logan rose and gave his racket a spin against his palm. He bounced twice, then adjusted his feet into a poised stance.

Leo had his ball pressed against his racket, ready. He looked back at Logan once before lowering his gaze to his racket.

“Leo Knut to serve,” the umpire’s voice echoed over the chatter. “Play.”

Leo won the first set. He was gorgeous and lean, and their rallies lasted minute after minute after minute until the crowd was gasping after each stroke. Quite the even match, they were called. Too even, Logan thought. Everywhere else, they would give each other anything the other could possibly want. But not here.

Here, Logan’s t-shirt was soaked in sweat within thirty minutes, and it wasn’t from the heat. They were running each other hard. Leo’s stride equaled Logan’s speed, and his height, Logan’s strength. Logan was frustrated, sure. But he was also having fun. Leo hit a drop shot that had Logan sprinting to the front of the net, only to miss it by its backspin. Leo grinned at him when Logan jokingly hit his palm against his racket in applause. For a moment, it felt like they were back at his house in one of the faux matches Finn set them to.

But it only took three rallies into the second set for Logan to see that something was wrong.

Leo stopped moving well. He wasn’t even walking right. He seemed stiff, and then at changeovers, he spent long seconds with his face hidden in a cold towel.

On Logan’s next break before his serve, he turned away from Leo, wiping his face and wrists with his towel as he looked up at Finn. Finn tapped his thigh and squeezed his hand into a fist. Muscle cramps.

Logan winced, but part of him was relieved. Those were painful, but at least they were short-lived. He made his way back to the baseline and tested out a ball with a few bounces before discarding it and tossing it back towards the ball boy. He glanced up at Leo as he withdrew the second ball from his pocket. He was bringing his knees up to his waist, trying to get the blood flowing. Logan bounced the second ball. His serve clock was winding down and Leo didn’t look ready for his serve. Not at all.

Logan let out a breath, tossed the ball up, and brought his serve down. Ace. Leo barely got his hand back properly. Leo looked behind him, up at his box, and motioned something that Logan couldn’t make out, but what he figured was that he wanted to call for a trainer at the next change-over.

“Ah-ah,” came from Leo’s box. A scolding, horrible sound. Leo’s coach gave his head a sharp shake and he pointed towards the court. Don’t, it seemed to mean.

Finn was standing up in Logan’s box when he looked, his arms crossed. Beside him, Noelle pulled him back into his seat.

He took one more game off of Leo before he couldn’t take it anymore—watching the pained way he walked and the set of his mouth as he tried to hide it.

Logan looked to the chair and raised a finger. “Medic, please.”

The walk to his chair gave him one, tiny second to lock eyes with Leo. Logan wanted to tell him silently to call. Call while I’m calling. He didn’t linger long enough to see if Leo understood. He sat down in his chair, wiped sweat from his face, and looked at Finn. He was leaning back to say something to Logan’s mom. Maybe explaining the trick. Finn would know that Logan had absolutely no reason to call for a trainer.

Even still, a woman came jogging out onto the court. Logan heard the shush and mumble of the crowd as they figured out what was happening. She dropped her heavy supply backpack and knelt in front of Logan’s chair. She had kind eyes, dark hair pulled back into a slick bun, and when she spoke it was with an Australian accent.

“Hi, Mr. Tremblay. My name is Nicola. What can I do for you, sir?”

“Nothing,” Logan said in a low voice, and put his foot out. “Just check my ankle. Take your time about it.”

Nicola looked confused. “I…what?”

“Please,” Logan said.

She looked confused still, but slowly she reached out for Logan’s ankle. She began pressing at it tenderly, like she would if she had been checking for pain. Eventually, her eyes went to Leo’s chair. So, she’d figured it out.

“Is he calling?” Logan whispered.

“Yes, sir,” Nicola said.

Logan didn’t look Leo’s way, but relief flooded him. Another medic came out onto the court, heading Leo’s way. Logan didn’t care if anyone else saw through his trick. If he beat Leo, he didn’t want to do it like this.

He could only ask Nicola to pretend for so long, but when he looked over he saw that Leo had his eyes closed while the trainer dug his thumbs into his thigh in what was probably a good-pain way. Logan paced the baseline to keep his own muscles warm, then heard Finn’s voice in his head and ate half a banana.

When Leo rose to his feet, the crowd applauded, eager for the match to resume. Leo’s box got loud, too, but the tone sounded pressing, not encouraging. It made Logan want to make a noise complaint just so he could inadvertently tell them to fuck off.

One look at Finn told him everything he needed to know. Play, it seemed to say. Logan knew he was right. All he could do right now that wouldn’t hurt Leo, was play.

He tried to turn off everything but the game. The crowd was hardly there. Leo couldn’t be Leo just then. Logan had to turn him into just another player, or else Logan might looked down to find guilt gnawing its way through his chest. He even stopped looking at Finn. Finn now meant Leo, too, so at least for these few hours, there could be neither of them. There were no faces or features around him, just the yellow blur of the ball and the burn in his muscles as he took each point more easily than the last. This was what it had felt like to play when he had been alone, before Finn. The mechanical motions of the came combined with the small adjustments to strategy—treating his opponent like a machine to be figured out. A bleak headspace filled with gray and numbers. He didn’t like it there anymore. He never had.

When he took the win, it all snapped back in. The noise of the crowd roared into his awareness. The colors and court lights made him squint.

The pained flush on Leo’s face hit him right in the chest.

Logan turned and looked up at Finn. His hat was smushed between his palms, red hair a mess from his fingers. He didn’t exactly look like Logan had just become a U.S. Open Champion. He was on his feet and clapping now, but his eyes looked as exhausted as Logan felt. Imperceptible, if you didn’t know him. But Logan did know him. He didn’t know anything better than he knew Finn O’Hara. Finn hadn’t had the game to lock into. He’d been sitting there watching Leo in pain and Logan forcing himself into a brutal, winning pace.

Logan dropped his racket and rubbed his hands over his face. He should be smiling. He might have, had he not looked to see Leo with one hand on the net as he waited for him.

When Logan reached him, his hand was cold in Logan’s, and his breathing felt shallow as Logan rubbed a palm briefly up and down his back.

“That was some trick,” Leo said, drawing them closer to hide his words from any cameras. “With the trainer.”

“I love you,” Logan said. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” Leo said. “Go see your family. Oh.” He squeezed Logan tighter for a moment. “I love you, too.”

No one let Logan climb the stands this time, but pointedly directed him to the stairs. He sort of wished Finn would just come to him. He would have all night to see his family. Right then, he wanted a magical sort of door that took him away from all the prying eyes and into Finn’s arms.

Burying his face in Finn’s warm neck when he reached his box would have to do.

“You were going to win,” Finn whispered. “You did so good. Don’t feel guilty, you made that match end as fast as you could.”

“The thing with the trainer,” Logan mumbled.

“I know.”

Logan pulled back to look up at him. Asking. Telling. Imploring.

Finn only nodded, then gave him over to be hugged by his family.

It was excruciating, watching Leo try to fake his way through his speech. He was disappointed. Frustrated. But he was sweet and funny. Logan saw each time a muscle seized up in the way he turned away from the microphone briefly to draw a slow, steadying breath. He saw the way Leo kept one hand on the podium while he gave his runner-up speech. That same hand used Logan for support when they took their trophy photographs. Logan stood ready for him, immovable until Leo pulled away first.

“I’m so grateful to have the support that I do,” Logan said, trying not to wince as his voice echoed back at him around the stadium. “And the amazing talent I get to go up against.” He looked back at Leo. “Every single player on this tour has been in your shoes and all I’ll be thinking about is when we get to play again.”

Logan wanted off the court, he wanted Finn and Leo to himself. He wanted an ice bath and then Finn’s thumbs digging into that one point in his back.

“Finn,” Logan said, then startled back from the microphone as the stadium went wild. He even heard Leo laugh a little from behind him. Logan felt tears claw up his throat and laughed, too. “Leo.”

Because they were one now. Nothing existed without the other.

Leo’s eyes, when Logan found them, had gone a little wide.

“Je t’aime,” Logan said, then waved a hand up to the crowd, who reached back. “Je t’aime, merci.”

~

Finn and Logan didn’t have to agree to find Leo, but he wasn’t where they thought he would be. He wasn’t recovering like Logan had just spent the last thirty minutes doing. He was in a lounge near the locker rooms, sitting on a couch with his long legs bent awkwardly due to the sag of the old sofa cushion. Four people seemed to be trying to talk to him at once.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” one of them said under their breath when they saw Finn and Logan. It made Leo look up. He looked tired. So tired. His silver plate trophy was on the coffee table in front of him, casting shimmery reflections across his drawn face.

Finn drew in a breath, about to speak, but Logan gave the back of his t-shirt a sharp tug and stepped forward instead.

“I need a word with Leo,” Logan said.

Leo was on his feet in a second, stepped out from around the table. He was still limping.

“What for?” the coach asked. “We’re in the middle—”

“Players business.”

“His business is my business.”

Leo didn’t look at them. He didn’t even turn around. His eyes were unfocused and trained on Logan’s chest.

“But mine isn’t,” Logan snapped. “Excuse us.”

He didn’t take Leo’s hand. He wanted to drag him out of there by both hands, but he stayed perfectly still with so many eyes on them. That wouldn’t help Leo just then. Obviously, he had already been told that loving each other made them weaker players. Logan wouldn’t give them something to point at. If they thought this made them weaker, they didn’t deserve to see even a glimpse of the strength that flooded Logan every time Leo so much as looked at him.

  So, Logan made to turn away, knowing Leo and Finn would follow.

“O’Hara.”

Finn stiffened beside Logan and looked back over his shoulder. Leo’s team looked like they had been having a silent conversation, but now their eyes were on Finn.

“A word, if you don’t mind,” said the coach, and he scowled at Logan. “Coach business.”

“I have a few minutes,” Finn said. He looked down at Logan. “See you in a second.” His eyes flit wordlessly in the direction of the recovery rooms.

The room was simple. An examination mattress with a cushion against the wall. A side table, a sink, a few stools, and a small, humming refrigerator in the corner whose glass door showed cold water bottles and hydration drinks. Logan went to it while Leo pulled himself up onto the bed with a groan, stretching his legs out. He’d been icing his knee. Logan could see the redness that the cold had left behind.

“I’m…” Logan set the water aside. He wasn’t sure what to say. He put a hand on Leo’s thigh where the redness was and experimental kneaded his thumb into the muscle. When Leo’s eyes closed with pleasure, he did it again.

“I fired them,” Leo whispered.

Logan let out a breath. “You did?”

Leo nodded. His chest rose and fell heavily once, then he opened his eyes and looked at Logan tiredly.

“Maybe I’ll be like you were,” Leo said. “Try it solo. For a while.”

No. Logan hated that idea. He’d done the endless plane rides alone. The hotels, the mornings, the lonely nights that came whether he won or lost. He didn’t want that for Leo. He wasn’t sure Leo would be able to do it. He was a people person, far more so than Logan ever had been. He was like Finn. He liked to talk, to laugh, to be surrounded by others.

“Leo,” Logan began to say, but suddenly, voices from the other room could be heard plain as day. Finn was—

Leo and Logan looked at each other in surprise. Finn was shouting.

“No. Nope, nope, you saw, you saw what was happening! You do nothing? What did you want him to do, push through? He’d been playing for hours, he needed help, that’s what you’re there for, you know that.”

“It’s a fucking cramp! They go away.”

“He needs water, he needs sugar—”

“Hey. Hey, where do you get off trying to tell me—”

“He needs you not to be running him the way you were the day before the match, in the heat, in the sun. He needs you to not be rolling your fucking eyes when he asks for the medic, are you fucking kidding me—

“Oh, fuck off, O’Hara. You can do fuck all with Tremblay, whatever, but Leo’s not one of your fucking whores, all right?”

There was a shocked beat of silence. Leo and Logan stared at each other, wide-eyed. Logan didn’t catch the next thing Finn said, not until he raised his voice again.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“He’s not. Your. Player.”

When Finn spoke next, he sounded dangerous. Truly dangerous.

“That is not,” Finn began, “what you just said.”

If Logan didn’t know him, he would have been just a bit terrified. But he did know him. And he knew the second he came back into this room it would melt. If he was ever rough with the two of them, it only came out as pure pleasure.

“Call Logan that again,” Finn said. “Let’s see what happens. Go ahead.”

“You have no distance,” Logan heard the coach say. “You cannot run a player like you do, you have no discipline, no—”

“Run? Run a player? They’re not machines!”

“They can be! If they’re worked right—”

“They’re not animals either,” Finn thundered. “They’re people.”

“You don’t treat them like people, you treat them like playthings. Your playthings.”

Finn went silent again. Logan covered Leo’s hand with his, Leo did the same to him, and they waited. Waited.

“This can be a lonely life,” Finn finally said. “A very lonely life. And this is the last thing I’ll say to someone like you, but I am the luckiest man in the entire fucking world to have found love, real love, in this game.”

Logan closed his eyes. He felt Leo’s forehead meet his temple and turned into him.

“And if you ever call Logan or Leo ‘things’, or anything else, again, I’ll sweep your fucking world out from under your feet.”

Leo made a quiet, sad sound in his throat and tilted his chin forward to brush their mouths together. He pulled back to look at him.

“We are lucky,” Leo said.

Logan nodded.

Finn came through the door very quiet. He was red, cheeks flushed in his anger, but he looked at Leo so softly. Logan loved that about him. He loved that. Finn set down two cups on the side table, along with a banana.

“Sorry about that Le,” he said.

Leo shook his head, dazed and glancing towards the door. “No. I…”

Finn handed him the cup, then caught Logan’s eye. “Guess I’ve got no more ground to stand on when I tell you not to lose your head?”

“I love you,” Logan said.

Finn pressed a hand over theirs, then reached for a cup.

“Drink this,” he said to Leo. He cracked the banana’s peel. “You like these kind of green, right?”

Leo just stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

Finn pressed it into his hand. “Okay. Eat is slow.” He passed that hand through Leo’s hair. “Okay?”

“I’m sorry he said that to you,” Leo said. He looked at Logan. “God, to both of you, I can’t believe…He knows how much you mean to me.”

“Don’t apologize for him,” Finn said, and that angry flush began to bloom over his cheeks again. “God, I could just…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Le. Okay. Le.”

Finn sank down on the other side of the PT pallet. He put a hand on Leo’s thigh. “Baby, I don’t—It’s not just that I don’t like the way your team talks to you anymore. I don’t like the way they manage your health. I don’t fucking like it. That, today? That was avoidable.”

Leo looked down, nodding. Logan’s anger flared up so fast that he had to squeeze Leo’s hand hard between his own. The fact that someone could put a look like that on Leo’s face made him want to kill. He couldn’t understand how Finn hadn’t hit Leo’s coach clean across the face. Logan wanted blood on his knuckles as badly as he wanted to curl up into Leo’s side.

“I want to say…” Finn glanced at Logan, who nodded quickly, heart in his throat, then back at Leo. “I’d have to train you two separately. And in different ways. But…I would.” Finn took the empty banana peel and cup and set it down, then took Leo’s hands. “Le, I’d love to be your coach.” Finn paused. “If you want me.”

“Oh…” Leo’s voice was so faint.

Logan was nodding again, even though neither of them were looking at him.

“I’ve been in your shoes as a player,” Finn said. “I’ve leveled up Lo’s game and he was already a master. And you’re brimming with talent and skill and they’re fucking wasting it. I can—”

Leo reached out and put a palm to Finn’s cheek, stopping him. Slowly, his eyes filled with tears. “I fired them tonight.”

Finn straightened. “You did?”

Leo nodded.

“Oh. Then—can I beg instead?” Finn laughed a little, then quieted. He turned his face into Leo’s hand and kissed his palm. His eyes met Logan’s, and Logan felt, all over again, what it had been like for Finn to be his in this way for the first time. “Please, Le.”

“Please? Please?” Leo repeated, and Logan watched him trace Finn’s jaw. “I’ve…always wanted someone like you.”

Finn smiled and it made Logan smile. Love. Real love in this game.

“Okay, hey.” Another kiss to Leo’s palm, then his wrist. “Hey, don’t cry.”

“No, no, I’m just relieved.” Leo’s laugh tumbled out of him and he looked at Logan. “Lo?”

“He wanted this a long time ago,” Finn said. “You should have seen him.”

Logan pulled a face, and Finn touched where his nose wrinkled up. “I don’t know what you mean by that. Of course I want this.”

“Our living room has a new groove from his pacing,” Finn said. “Let’s leave it at that.”

Leo sniffed as he laughed again. “What? But okay.”

“Okay?” Finn looked hopeful still, which was funny because Logan was sure it had been a done deal long before today. Somehow, Leo always seemed to have been theirs. Not knowing him and that foreign, guarded dance in a ballroom, felt long, long ago.

Leo looked at Logan. “You won’t feel strange? Sharing him?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re past that,” Logan said, raising his eyebrows. “And I’m pretty sure he likes it. I know I like it.”

“I mean sharing him professionally.” Leo rolled his eyes and wiped at his cheek. “God.”

“Are we talking about me like I’m not here?” Finn cut in. “Because that’s—fine. But hey, hi.”

Logan reached out and put a hand on Finn’s cheek before moving it to Leo’s. “Yes. I want you to have him as your coach, too. It’s the best decision I ever made.”

“Man oh man,” Finn said. “Boys just want me for my skills.”

“Professional decision.”

“I have a lot of skills,” Finn said. “In a wide variety.”

“Finn,” Leo said.

Finn let out a ha and pulled on of Leo’s ankles into his lap, beginning to massage his calf. Leo groaned, but didn’t pull away. “I am so excited. I am so excited, I love this fucking job.”

Leo had his brows knit as Finn dug his thumbs into his knotted muscle, but he huffed out a laugh. “Are you on the clock right now?”

“No,” Finn said. He propped Leo’s foot on his shoulder and turned his head to bite gently at Leo’s ankle. “Relax your ankle for me.” Leo complied and Finn adjusted his grip to one Logan knew well. His ankle felt twenty times better because of that grip. Leo dropped his head back. Finn flit his eyes to Logan knowingly. “Good. Now come here for a second.”

Finn gently lowered Leo’s ankle back to the bed and took Leo’s hand so he could sit forward. He put one hand on Leo’s chest, right where his heart was. Logan counted the freckles on the back of it, then took the free hand Finn held out to him and counted those, too. Like stars, like the miles he’d run for both of them, he lost count.

“My clock never starts or stops,” Finn said softly. The brown color of his eyes looked melted and beautiful in the dim light. “Same goes for Logan. I care about you. A game doesn’t change that. A green court, a blue court, a clay court with white lines doesn’t change that. Some people might say that’s a bad thing but I don’t care. There is no line for me. If anything, I’m standing on the line so I can reach both sides whenever I want.”

Logan pulled his feet up and pressed himself into Leo’s side. “Rouge.”

“Really,” Finn said, looking between them. “I’m not kidding. I used to think playing tennis was my dream, but this…” He smiled, shaking his head. “This.”

“Same goes for you,” Leo said. “Do you hear me? We’ve got championships on the line, we’ve got a shit load of money on the line.” Leo tilted his chin towards Logan. “This one’s gonna get buckets of attention and shit about his legacy.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “But none of that compares to you. D’accord?”

Finn smiled at them. “So we’re in agreement, then.”

Logan had toed the line for so long between the happiness of winning, adrenaline-soaked and nothing more, and the lonely emptiness of loss. When he’d gotten Finn, he’d saw the lines blur before his eyes and loved it so much that he’d wiped them clean with his own palms. Leo had redrawn them. Soft, and bold, and real, and theirs to cross.

“As much as I enjoy sitting here with your hands on me,” Finn said. “I would like you to drink this water.”

“Here he goes,” Logan mumbled and Leo laughed.

“You hungry?” Finn asked.

“Yep,” Leo said.

“Where do you want to go?” Finn put the next cup into his hands. “Anywhere you want. Drain that, even—”

“The dregs,” Leo and Logan said in unison.

“Anywhere?” Leo asked.

“Ouais.” Logan messed with his gold chains, watching Leo’s throat move as he drank as Finn commanded.

“For now, room service steak will do, but then…”

Finn raised his eyebrows, eager. “Yeah?”

Leo set the cup down with a soft, almost sheepish grin. “Then let’s go home.”

(And that's a wrap on On The Line! I loved writing this story so very much. Thanks for reading and all of your wonderful messages!! I love talking about these three with you all <3 This is a trying time right now and I hope this brought a spark of joy...all the love <3 <3)

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.

🍂

It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.

You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:

Beloved parents taken too soon,

Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter

You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.

Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…

As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.

It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.

About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.

You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.

You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.

You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.

“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.

You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.

🍂

A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.

“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.

“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”

You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.

You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.

You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.

You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.

“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.

You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…

“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.

He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.

There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…

“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…

“Get away from there!” he snarled.

You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…

“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.

“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know��.

You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.

“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”

“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.

Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.

What was his goal here, exactly?

Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?

And where did you know him from?

Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!

“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”

“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.

You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.

Where had you seen that look?

“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”

You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.

He wasn’t from the market…

It was him.

Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.

Oh!

Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.

It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?

The Winter Soldier.

Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.

Barnes.

As in…son of Winnifred and George?

Ah.

He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.

“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.

You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”

You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.

You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.

You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.

As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.

🍂

Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…

But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…

You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.

You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.

You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.

You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.

“Hey,” it said.

It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.

It was him again.

“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.

He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…

…hot?

Fuck.

He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.

You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.

The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.

After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

enamored with the bill possessing Ford's body au. If you would feel up to it, do you have more tidbits? :3

I’m happy to see so many people enjoying it!! I have a lot of additional tidbits so I’ll just stick to giving a few for now:

— Dipper finds out Ford is the author a lot earlier, for the obvious reasons of Bill being present in Ford’s body. He doesn’t put the pieces together right away, only because initially, he hates Bill, disappointed that the ‘scientist’ his parents spoke about that he wanted to impress turned out to be nothing like what he had hoped, ignoring and dismissing him instead, even taking a liking to Mabel before him! He has this idealised version of the author in his head, someone who he relates to and finds comfort in, and he doesn’t want to taint that vision by suspecting it may be someone who he hates. He may be a mystery lover but he is still a twelve year old with a grudge.

It’s only after he and Bill start getting along that he brings it up, and Bill doesn’t think to lie. He’s just that surprised Dipper found it. He does lie about not remembering things though to avoid Dipper’s questions about the paranoia and why he hid it — as on the spot kind of thing, and that becomes Dipper’s mystery fixation of the summer.

— Stan and Bill have various nicknames for each other, with Bill’s main one for Stan being ‘Fez’, and Stan’s main one for Bill being ‘Goldie’.

— Speaking of them, when it comes to their relationship, they are genuinely friends after thirty years of living together, but what that friendship entails is where it gets complicated and I don’t think I can summarise here. I’d say it can best be described as two people who have come to understand each other very deeply, and are similar in a thousand ways, but they would rather throw themselves off a cliff than acknowledge or talk about that. There’s also the lingering anger and resentment on Stan’s end, not for taking Ford’s body, he knows Bill doesn’t want to be stuck here either, but for what he did to Ford before that, how he hurt him. He, much to his confusion, does care about Bill, and Bill, much to his own confusion as well, does care about Stan back, but their friendship is built on something awful, and that doesn’t just go away.

— On a sillier note, it was in 1990 that Stan realised Bill was his only friend and that he sort of enjoyed his company, and that truly was a horrifying moment. On the other end Bill finally admits to some degree he might care for Stan in 1994, which happens while both of them are drunk, and Bill likes to claim it didn’t happen. The image below also probably summarises the lighter aspect of their dynamic better than I could word it here:

— Bill has taxidermy as a hobby and actually gives Dipper and Mabel a few lessons in it, creating some displays for the shack. Weirdly good bonding activity.

— Very specific ‘episode’ idea in my mind where Stan and Bill get framed by Faires that Bill angered a thousand years ago for a crime they didn’t commit, and Dipper and Mabel have to figure out how to prove their innocence, finding more about their Grunkles along the way, and also having to beat a fairy in a game of poker.

— Mabel at some point comes to the conclusion her “Grunkle Ford” had a bad breakup that he still hasn’t gotten over and makes it her goal to help him through it. This is part of her summer mission. It comes up frequently. It’s ridiculous I know but what is Gravity Falls without a generous amount of both angst and utter silliness.

I’ll probably leave it at that for now! But if you’d want more or have any specific questions, I shall do my best. I’m still figuring out some stuff too so input will be helpful.

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Under the Gotham Moon

Bruce Wayne x reader

Smut/Fluff

Warnings: none

-----------------------------

The night was thick with the scent of rain-soaked asphalt and the faint aroma of luxury lingering in the air. From the balcony of Wayne Manor, you had a perfect view of Gotham’s skyline, a jagged silhouette against the silvery light of the moon. Bruce Wayne, your husband, stood beside you, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that only added to his enigmatic charm. Though the world knew him as the billionaire playboy, to you, he was simply Bruce—the man who had captured your heart.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you asked, leaning on the cold marble railing, your eyes sparkling like the stars above.

He turned to you, his deep-set eyes softened by the glow of the moonlight. “It is,” he replied, his voice a low timbre that sent shivers down your spine. “But it’s nothing compared to you.”

A smile tugged at your lips, your heart racing at his words. You were accustomed to compliments, but when they came from Bruce, they carried a weight that made you feel cherished—desired.

“Flattery won’t get you out of trouble tonight,” you teased, glancing back at the elegant dining table set for two inside the sprawling estate. The remnants of dinner lay before you; an expertly prepared meal that had been overshadowed by the evening's growing tension. You felt it in the air, a magnetic pull between the two of you, palpable and electric.

Bruce’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a serious look that made your breath catch. He stepped closer, closing the space between you, his gaze intent. “I can’t help it,” he said softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “You deserve every bit of admiration I can muster.”

Your heart raced as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was tender yet ignited a fire within you. It deepened almost instinctively, as if your bodies remembered the way they fit together. He tasted of rich whiskey and something uniquely Bruce—a hint of danger and courage wrapped in warmth.

When he finally pulled away, you felt breathless. His forehead rested against yours, and in the silence, you could hear the distant hum of the city below.

“I want you tonight,” you whispered, emboldened by the intimacy of the moment. Bruce’s eyes flickered with desire, igniting a spark of mischief.

“Good,” he replied, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Because I’ve been waiting for the right time.”

You wrinkled your brow in playful disbelief. “You mean all those romantic dinners were just a lead-up to this?”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and soothing. “Not just any night—tonight feels… different. The world is quiet, and it’s just us.” His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “I want to share everything with you.”

With a swift motion, he swept you into his arms, and you squealed in surprise. He carried you back inside, his strength comforting and intoxicating. The dimly lit room felt like your own private sanctuary, far removed from the chaos of Gotham.

He set you down gently, but the intensity in his gaze told you that this would not be a gentle night.

As you moved to the couch, he followed, his body a shadow over yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, warming the chilled air around you. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to expose your neck. He pressed soft, teasing kisses along your collarbone, each one awakening a longing deep within.

“Bruce…” you breathed, feeling your body respond to his every touch. You craved more, wanted to lose yourself in him completely.

“Everything you feel, I feel it too,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

With careful precision, he unfastened the buttons of your blouse, letting the fabric fall open to reveal the delicate lace of your bra. His breath hitched, and his gaze darkened as he took in the sight of you, exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

You reached for him, your fingers trailing down his chest, grazing over the hardened contours of his muscles. “Then make me yours, Bruce,” you urged, your voice barely a whisper.

A low growl escaped his throat, and with surprising gentleness, he pushed you back against the cushions, his lips never leaving your skin as he continued to explore. The evening unfolded like a dream; every caress ignited sensations you never knew existed.

Time slipped away as you lost yourselves in each other, the rest of the world fading into nothingness. There was only the rise and fall of your breaths, the heat of his body against yours, and the fervor of shared yearning.

With every kiss, every touch, he reminded you just how much you meant to him. You were no longer just Bruce Wayne’s wife; you were his confidante, his partner in crime, and his greatest passion.

Eventually, he pulled away momentarily, looking deep into your eyes, searching for your consent. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse with need and concern.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that reassurance, he reclaimed your lips, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The world dissolved into a haze of pleasure and trust, your bodies entwined beneath the soft glow of the moon.

As the night wore on, you surrendered to the connection that bound you both. You felt cherished, adored, and completely enveloped in his love.

Finally, as dawn broke, painting the room in soft hues of pink and gold, you lay in Bruce's arms, exhaustion mingling with satisfaction. The adventures of Gotham, the shadows that stalked the streets, seemed distant and irrelevant. In this moment, you were safe, loved, and utterly fulfilled.

Bruce stirred beside you, his brow furrowing as he awoke to the new day. When his gaze landed on you, the corners of his lips lifted in a sleepy smile, a heartfelt expression that made your heart swell.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wayne,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Good morning, Mr. Wayne,” you replied, grinning. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together—partners in every sense of the word.

And as you nestled deeper into his embrace, the city outside continued its ceaseless pulse, but inside these walls, you had found your solace, your joy, and your forever.

-----------------------------

Masterlist

[novaursa]

A Lion's Leap (unplanned, unbroken)

- Summary: The king announces the betrothal of his youngest daughter, you, to Tyland Lannister. But even the Lannister Lord is taken off guard, as there has been some miscommunication regarding the proposal.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Previous part: flight of fancy

- Next part: strategic truce

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @misspendragonsworld

The battle over Rook’s Rest was supposed to be a decisive, calculated move by Aemond and Aegon, a show of strength to remind the Black faction who truly held power in the skies. But “decisive” and “calculated” went out the window the moment young Daemon and Alyssa joined the fray.

As Viseron and Grey Ghost appeared in the sky, Rhaenys, locked in a furious dance with Aemond and Aegon, spotted her cousins, racing forward as if this were some friendly game. Rhaenys’ lips twisted into a smirk; they had inherited the Targaryen penchant for dramatics, that much was clear.

“Uncle Aemond!” Daemon’s voice echoed through the sky, far too cheerful for the middle of a dragon battle. “Having fun, are we?”

Aemond scowled, tightening his grip on Vhagar’s reins. “You two again?” he shouted back, his voice strained with a mix of irritation and surprise. “Have you nothing better to do than interfere in matters beyond you?”

Alyssa cackled from atop Grey Ghost. “We’re just here to help Rhaenys, Uncle. Thought you could use a little… family support.”

Rhaenys, barely suppressing a laugh, swooped down on Meleys and called out to her young relatives. “Now don’t do anything reckless,” she teased, though her grin betrayed her amusement. “Or do, and give Aemond something to complain about.”

Aegon, astride his golden dragon Sunfyre, had been watching the unfolding chaos with mounting disbelief. As Viseron darted under Vhagar’s massive wings, narrowly avoiding a bite, he let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, this is rich! Aemond, you’re being swarmed by Lannisters!”

Aemond shot his brother a withering glare. “Silence, Aegon,” he growled, struggling to keep Vhagar under control as Viseron swooped up and circled, taunting them with graceful, nimble maneuvers. “This is hardly the time for your amusement.”

“Oh, but it is,” Aegon drawled, grinning as he watched his nephew zip around them. “They’ve made a mockery of you once already; might as well make it twice.”

Aemond’s temper flared as Daemon and Alyssa moved in unison, Grey Ghost darting in to distract Vhagar while Viseron took another run at Sunfyre. Alyssa called out, her voice carrying over the battlefield, “What’s the matter, Uncle? Vhagar getting tired?”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, his voice a snarl. “Enough of this nonsense! Vhagar, show them their place!”

But Viseron and Grey Ghost darted apart just as Vhagar made a powerful dive, her bulk and speed propelling her toward what she thought was an easy target. Instead, she found herself colliding with nothing but open air as the smaller dragons slipped past her grasp, leaving her plummeting toward the ground.

Aegon, who had been thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, burst into laughter as Vhagar crashed unceremoniously into the ground below, dust and rocks flying. “Oh, well done, nephew!” he called to Daemon. “A fine trick!”

Aemond, however, was less than amused. Struggling to right himself as Vhagar recovered, he shot a glare at Aegon. “Are you enjoying this?”

“More than you’ll ever know, brother,” Aegon chuckled, patting Sunfyre’s neck. “Not often I get to see you humbled.”

Meanwhile, Rhaenys seized the opportunity. With a nod of thanks to Daemon and Alyssa, she guided Meleys in a sharp ascent, spiraling up and away from the battlefield. She caught Alyssa’s eye and winked. “Good work, children. I’ll be sure to remember this.”

Alyssa waved back with a grin. “Anytime, Rhaenys! We’re just here to keep things… lively.”

As Rhaenys disappeared into the clouds with Meleys, Aemond seethed, his pride bruised. “You fools,” he hissed, aiming his next attack squarely at his nephews. “I’ve had enough of your insolence!”

Daemon, undaunted, nudged Viseron closer, flashing his uncle a cocky smile. “Oh, come now, Uncle. You’re just upset because we’re faster.”

“Faster?” Aemond spat, his eye blazing with fury. “Do you think speed matters against Vhagar?”

Alyssa piped up, clearly enjoying every second of Aemond’s frustration. “It seems to matter quite a lot, actually.”

Aegon, his face stretched in a grin of pure amusement, waved to his nephews as he steered Sunfyre higher. “Well, I’ve had enough entertainment for one day. Aemond, I’ll leave you to handle your ‘guests’… unless they take you down again!”

With a final cackle, Aegon turned and left, leaving Aemond alone with his meddlesome relatives. Young Daemon and Alyssa exchanged a triumphant look before giving Aemond a mock salute.

“See you next time, Uncle!” Daemon called out, urging Viseron higher.

Alyssa blew Aemond a kiss from atop Grey Ghost. “Try not to be so grumpy next time, Uncle Aemond! It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, the two younger dragons soared back toward the Westerlands, leaving a very battered, very furious Aemond on Vhagar, smoldering in the ruins of Rook’s Rest.

And as Aegon circled back to observe the aftermath from above, he let out one last bark of laughter. “Perhaps next time, brother, you’ll learn to keep up with the family!”

In the grand hall of Casterly Rock, Tyland Lannister sat on the high seat, looking every bit the part of a patient lord holding court—though he would have preferred to be doing anything else. As the younger twin, Tyland was far more accustomed to letting Jason handle the endless stream of minor grievances from vassals, merchants, and local farmers. But with Jason away at Harrenhal alongside Prince Daemon, Tyland found himself reluctantly taking up the role.

To his left, you sat with a serene smile, now visibly pregnant and reclining with all the ease of a princess overseeing her kingdom. Every so often, you would shoot him a look of encouragement, and it was only with your calm presence beside him that Tyland managed to keep his nerves in check.

The first petitioner was a merchant from Lannisport, bowing deeply before launching into his grievance.

“My lord, it’s about the tariffs on spices. They’re higher than last season, and it’s driving away the traders from Essos. They’re going to... to the Tyrells!” he sputtered, clearly horrified at the thought.

Tyland, forcing a diplomatic smile, cleared his throat. “Well, we can’t very well have that, now can we? Though I must remind you that even the Tyrells don’t control dragons.” He gave a quick side-glance to you, as if hoping your dragon-backed presence would reassure the man.

The merchant looked between the two of you, his expression shifting to one of hesitant awe. “Oh, yes, of course, my lord. Dragons. I hadn’t... considered that, naturally. Perhaps I should look into... uh, new imports.”

You gave Tyland a sly smile and leaned over to whisper, “You’re doing well, my lord.”

Tyland managed a weak smile back. “Yes, because spice tariffs are absolutely within my comfort zone,” he muttered.

The next petitioner approached—a plump farmer clutching his hat nervously, his clothes speckled with straw and mud. He shifted uncomfortably before finally speaking.

“Begging your pardon, m’lord,” the farmer began, casting a wary look at you. “But it’s about the sheep. They’ve... been disappearing.”

Tyland raised an eyebrow. “Disappearing? You mean to say someone’s stealing them?”

The farmer shuffled, his face turning a bit red. “Er... not exactly, m’lord. More like they’re... flying away.”

The hall fell silent, and Tyland’s brow creased in confusion. “Flying…?”

The farmer nodded vigorously. “It’s the dragons, m’lord! They’ve been... swooping in from above, taking the sheep right from the fields.”

You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Tyland’s face turned an impressive shade of red as he did his best to maintain composure.

“Ah. Yes.” Tyland coughed awkwardly, casting a quick glance at you. “Well, rest assured, we’ll look into… dragon sheep control. Perhaps, uh, perhaps a fence of some sort? Or… more sturdy barn roofs?”

The farmer scratched his head, clearly unimpressed by the suggestion. “A fence, m’lord? Against dragons?”

You leaned forward with a kind smile, your voice gentle. “We’ll make sure to address it, good man. Rest assured, our dragons will find something else to feast on. Perhaps… less flying sheep.”

The farmer, visibly relieved, bowed and backed away, muttering a fervent prayer to the Seven that his sheep might remain on the ground.

Just as Tyland let out a sigh of relief, a noble from one of the smaller Lannister-sworn houses strode forward, looking far too pleased with himself. Lord Wyllis, a minor lord with an impressive mustache and an even more impressive ego, gave an exaggerated bow.

“My lord,” Wyllis began, his tone full of pride, “I bring news of our recent hunts. We’ve managed to clear the boar from the southern woods.” He paused dramatically, casting a look at you. “M’lady, you may sleep soundly knowing your paths are safe.”

Tyland suppressed a smile. “I’m sure she’s grateful, Lord Wyllis.”

Wyllis straightened, a smug look on his face. “It was a feat worthy of a song, truly. Perhaps the lady would care to join us on the next hunt?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eye. “Ah, but what about the dragons, Lord Wyllis? They might feel… neglected if I went on foot. Do you think they’d appreciate boar over sheep?”

The lord paled, clearly having not considered this particular complication. “Well, uh, I... hadn’t thought of... dragons joining, m’lady.”

Tyland bit back laughter, giving you a conspiratorial smile. “I’m sure we can find a way to keep both the boars and sheep safe, Lord Wyllis. Perhaps we’ll even commission a song for your next feat.”

The final petitioner—a young woman from the nearby village—curtsied nervously, her voice barely a whisper as she spoke. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but there have been... sounds. In the night. Coming from the hills.”

Tyland’s expression turned puzzled. “Sounds?”

“Yes, my lord. Terrible noises… screeching, flapping. We fear it may be some sort of… beast.” She looked over at you nervously. “No offense, m’lady.”

You gave her a reassuring nod. “None taken. I believe those may be our dragons stretching their wings at night. Nothing to fear.”

Tyland added with a nod, “Think of it as… an added layer of security. After all, who would dare invade with dragons patrolling the skies?”

The young woman looked unconvinced but gave a hesitant nod, whispering her thanks before scurrying away.

As the hall began to clear, Tyland leaned back in his seat, looking thoroughly relieved. “Well,” he muttered under his breath, “I think I prefer Jason dealing with the boars and the… flying sheep.”

You laughed, resting a hand on his arm. “You handled it well. Besides, it’s good practice. We may yet have to sort out a great many more dragon-related grievances.”

Tyland chuckled, though he cast a wary glance toward the open window as if expecting one of your dragons to swoop in for a meal. “Yes, and next they’ll be asking us to train the dragons not to take liberties with the livestock. Wonderful.”

You patted his arm, smiling. “You’re handling it brilliantly.”

He gave you a long-suffering smile, though there was warmth in his eyes. “If by ‘brilliantly’ you mean barely keeping my head on straight, then yes, quite.”

And as the last of the petitioners filed out, Tyland let out a sigh of relief, wondering how he’d survive another audience if his dragons didn’t get their fill of sheep sometime soon.

When young Daemon and Alyssa arrived at Harrenhal, perched proudly on Viseron and Grey Ghost, the towering, soot-stained walls of the cursed castle seemed to lean in as if watching them approach. Prince Daemon, already in the courtyard with Jason Lannister and Lord Simon Strong, squinted up at the sky, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two teenage dragonriders descending.

Jason sighed, rubbing his temples. “Just when I thought we’d left all the chaos behind at Casterly Rock…”

Prince Daemon smirked, watching with a glint of pride in his eye. “Chaos? No, my good man, that’s the Targaryen way.”

The dragons landed with a heavy thud that made the stone courtyard tremble, Grey Ghost and Viseron stretching their wings as if claiming this cursed castle as their own. Young Daemon slid down first, giving a cocky bow to his uncles. Alyssa followed, her face alight with mischief as she took in the grand, eerie structure of Harrenhal.

Lord Simon Strong, the current castellan of Harrenhal, watched the whole scene with a mix of awe and amusement. “A sight, isn’t it? Lannister children… on dragons. I would say Harrenhal hasn’t seen anything quite like it.”

“Likely because Harrenhal would prefer to remain standing,” Jason muttered, giving his niece and nephew a wary look.

Young Daemon grinned, clearly picking up on his uncle’s anxiety. “Come now, Uncle Jason. We’re here to lend our support—and perhaps brighten up these gloomy walls.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Brighten up, you say? Harrenhal’s walls aren’t known to take kindly to… brightness. Or guests, for that matter.”

Alyssa, undeterred, stepped forward with a smirk. “Perhaps that’s because Harrenhal hasn’t seen guests like us.”

Lord Simon laughed heartily, clapping his hands together. “Now that’s the spirit, young lady! Harrenhal could use a little excitement. It’s been dreadfully dreary here since… well, since it was built.”

Jason shot him a look, his tone dry. “Let’s not encourage them, Lord Simon. The last time they were unsupervised, half the Lannister sheep population took flight.”

Prince Daemon chuckled, folding his arms. “It seems my niece and nephew are well on their way to mastering the fine art of Targaryen mischief.”

“And Lannister,” Alyssa added with a grin, casting a proud look at her brother.

Young Daemon pointed toward the castle’s ominous towers. “So, where’s the best place to start? This place is practically begging for some… improvements.”

Jason let out a long, suffering sigh. “Preferably somewhere without structural importance.”

But before Jason could protest further, the two teenagers were already exploring, their dragons trailing behind them with bemused, curious expressions. Grey Ghost nudged one of the ancient, cracked walls with his snout, causing a loose stone to tumble down with an echoing thud.

“Careful!” Jason called out, his voice rising with alarm. “This place is practically held together with curses and spiderwebs!”

Young Daemon waved dismissively. “Uncle Jason, if Harrenhal’s survived this long, it’ll survive us.”

They ventured into the main hall, where the thick, ancient walls seemed to breathe with a life of their own. Shadows twisted along the cracked stonework, the grand structure radiating an eerie silence. Alyssa glanced at her brother, a mischievous glint in her eye. “What do you think, Daemon? A few more dragon perches?”

Lord Simon, who had been trailing behind, chuckled. “Harrenhal might appreciate a few dragon-sized renovations.”

Young Daemon grinned. “You’re right, Lord Simon! Look at these pillars—they’d make perfect scratching posts for Viseron.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, “Let’s not add ‘desecrated pillars’ to the list of grievances we leave here.”

But despite Jason’s grumblings, Viseron seemed to take the suggestion seriously. The dragon flexed his claws against the stone floor, leaving deep gouges in the ancient rock. Grey Ghost, not wanting to be outdone, flapped his wings, sending centuries-old dust and cobwebs swirling through the air.

“Perfect ambiance!” Alyssa declared, brushing cobwebs from her shoulder. “A little Targaryen touch, wouldn’t you say?”

Prince Daemon laughed, clearly delighted by his niece and nephew’s antics. “I do think Harrenhal looks more… lively already.”

Jason groaned. “Lively? Harrenhal is liable to collapse in protest.”

Lord Simon, grinning from ear to ear, seemed entirely unbothered by the chaos. “Nonsense, my lord! It’s about time these old stones were shaken up a bit. Besides, who wouldn’t want dragons in the family?”

Young Daemon cast an appraising look around, noting the worn tapestries and crumbling statues. “What’s that saying about Harrenhal being cursed?”

Jason, still looking thoroughly exasperated, muttered, “That it destroys every family that holds it. And I’d rather we didn’t test the theory, thank you.”

Alyssa flashed a grin at Jason. “Don’t worry, Uncle. We’re just here for a visit. Harrenhal’s not going to collapse… we’ll leave a few stones standing.”

As they continued exploring, Viseron and Grey Ghost took turns nudging ancient statues, examining the stonework with what could only be described as “dragonly curiosity.” Each time they knocked something loose, Jason flinched, but Lord Simon only chuckled, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Young Daemon suddenly turned to his uncle with a mischievous smile. “You know, Uncle Jason, you could always take a ride on Viseron. It’d give you a different perspective of Harrenhal entirely.”

Jason’s face blanched. “I think I’d rather stay grounded. Thank you.”

Prince Daemon laughed, slapping Jason on the back. “Oh, come now, Lannister. You wouldn’t want to pass up the chance to see Harrenhal from the sky, would you?”

Jason managed a strained smile, his voice barely concealing his dread. “I… I think I’ll pass.”

Alyssa gave an exaggerated sigh. “Pity. You’re missing out, Uncle.”

As the dragons explored, Harrenhal’s walls seemed to groan in protest, the echoes of ancient curses mingling with the gleeful laughter of two young Targaryens and the resigned mutterings of a thoroughly exasperated Lannister lord. And as they moved through the castle, Lord Simon watched the scene with a twinkle in his eye, a man clearly delighted to see Harrenhal brought to life—even if it meant risking a few more crumbling walls.

By the time the sun began to set, Jason was visibly weary, muttering under his breath as he surveyed the damage. “I’ll never hear the end of this from Tyland.”

Prince Daemon clapped him on the shoulder, his grin as sharp as ever. “Consider it a lesson in family unity, Jason. A true bonding experience.”

“Or a lesson in why we avoid bringing dragon-riding siblings to cursed castles,” Jason replied dryly, though there was a reluctant smile on his lips.

And as the dragons settled, Harrenhal’s walls might have been slightly worse for wear, but the ancient castle had never felt more alive—or more thoroughly unsettled by its wild, Targaryen-Lannister visitors.

In the dim glow of the candlelight, you sat at the writing desk, a sheet of parchment before you as you dipped your quill in ink, preparing to write to your sister, Rhaenyra. Tyland, ever the doting husband, was seated beside you, leaning over with that familiar glint in his eye, clearly intending to distract you from your letter.

He watched as you wrote, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “You know, sometimes I still can’t believe this is real,” he murmured, placing his hand over yours gently, stopping you mid-sentence.

You looked up, meeting his gaze with a playful smile. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Our marriage, for one. A match arranged by a misunderstanding—a ‘happy accident’ at Otto Hightower’s hands.”

You laughed softly, remembering all too well how Otto had arranged your betrothal to the wrong Lannister twin on purpose, thinking he was binding House Lannister to the Hightowers’ cause. “I suppose we should be grateful for his ‘mistake’. He wanted us as pawns, but now he’s lost our support entirely.”

“Not exactly a winning move, was it?” Tyland grinned, clearly reveling in Otto’s failed scheme. “Imagine it—he thought he was securing an ally, and yet here I am, hopelessly in love with the most rebellious Targaryen he could have chosen for me.”

You gave him a light nudge, trying to keep your focus on the letter but finding it increasingly difficult with his mischievous smile so close. “Rebellious now, am I?”

“Oh, unquestionably.” He leaned closer, whispering in a conspiratorial tone. “Marrying you has been nothing but a series of delightful rebellions. Every sheep Viseron steals, every minor lord terrified by your dragons… I can only imagine Otto’s face if he knew.”

A mischievous smirk crossed your lips. “Perhaps I should include that in the letter to Rhaenyra—let her know just how unplanned and yet wonderful this marriage has turned out to be.”

Tyland raised an eyebrow, feigning horror. “Oh, you’ll ruin my image as a respectable lord, you know. What will everyone say?”

You laughed, dipping your quill back into the ink. “They’ll say you’ve been properly Targaryen’d, love. Consider it an honor.”

He pretended to groan, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. “And here I thought Lannisters were supposed to be the ones doing the taming.”

You leaned in close, a teasing grin on your face. “Oh, you’re welcome to try, Lord Lannister. But I warn you, Targaryens are notoriously difficult to tame.”

Tyland chuckled, running a hand through his hair in a mock display of resignation. “Well, I’ve certainly noticed. But, you know… I think I quite like it. All of it.” He placed his hand on your stomach, where the newest addition to your family grew, his expression softening. “You, the children, the dragons—even if they’re liable to eat the tapestries.”

You smiled, placing your hand over his. “We’re a family now, Tyland. And not because Otto intended it, but because we chose it.”

He looked at you, his expression tender. “Exactly. That’s the most unreal part of all, isn’t it? We were supposed to be a political alliance. Yet here I am, utterly, hopelessly yours—and completely unbothered by the thought of our dragons terrorizing Westeros together.”

Laughing, you returned your attention to the letter, writing out a few more lines about your life at Casterly Rock, the amusing mishaps with the dragons, and, of course, Tyland’s adaptation to Targaryen life. “Should I include that last part, do you think?”

Tyland made a show of considering it. “Oh, by all means, do. Let Rhaenyra know her former tame and now rebellious sister has turned her proper Lannister husband into a dragon-handler—however unwilling he might have been at first.”

You smiled, your quill scratching against the parchment as you added the line, a sense of warmth blooming in your chest. “Rhaenyra will be delighted. She warned me this marriage might be a mistake, and yet here we are, proving her wrong.”

“Then we owe it to Otto, don’t we?” Tyland said with a laugh. “An intentional misunderstanding on his part, and now he’s left with nothing but our rebellion in return.”

Leaning over, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, his voice soft. “Here’s to more misunderstandings, then. The best kind—the ones that bring happiness and laughter rather than war.”

As you finished your letter, sealing it with the wax of House Targaryen and House Lannister combined, you couldn’t help but marvel at how far you’d come together. An unexpected marriage, a union born of conspiracy and miscalculation, had somehow blossomed into something real and precious. And though Otto’s schemes had intended otherwise, they’d given you the best kind of happiness—one with dragons, laughter, and love.

[redgoldsparks]

October Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Pageboy by Elliot Page

This has been on my to-read list ever since it came out, and I finally picked it up. This book is an honest, sometimes painfully honest, accounting of Elliot Page's life up until his decision to come out as trans. He grew up in Canada, the child of divorced parents, with a hostile step-mother, an emotionally manipulative father, and overworked mother who initially did not accept his queerness. He started acting in elementary school and found it a freeing creative outlet, even when he hated the overly-girly clothing the roles often forced him into. Like many people who start in the film industry very young, he was taken advantage of sexually by adults who should have kept him safe. These experiences are written about less graphically than the blistering gender dysphoria and numbing disassociation that followed Elliot from his teens into his twenties. He threw himself into movie projects and love affairs, running away from a secret that nearly ate him alive. I'm so grateful that was eventually able to come out, because it really sounds like staying in the closet might have killed him. This book is not written chronologically; chapters center on themes, projects, or relationships. I understand that choice while also wishing that more of then teen chapters had been placed earlier in the book- sometimes the way the book kept slipping backwards in time felt a time bit repetitive. But it also felt honest to the experience of someone who kept backsliding in his ability to be honest with himself, until hitting the rock bottom of mental health, when there was no other choice but to be true.

Woe: A Housecat's Story of Despair by Lucy Knisley

Given the square format, I thought this was going to be a picture book but when it arrived from the library it was a full color 200 page collection of all the instagram comics author Lucy Knisley ever drew about her much loved fluffy orange cat, Linney. These comics are deeply relatable for any cat owner. I'd read pretty much all of them online before but I enjoyed seeing them all again in this collection.

The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold read by Lloyd James

Cazaril was once the son of a noble family, entrusted with defending a strategically important castle during one of Chalion's many wars. Then the castle was sold to the enemy, and Caz was not ransomed, but instead forced to serve as a galley slave on an enemy ship. Finally free, he walked across two countries to reach a town where he worked in his youth, and enters the stronghold wearing clothes he took off a corpse. All he wants is a lowly position, maybe in the kitchen or the stables, where he can earn a bit of bread and sleep warm at night. Instead, he is given the position of tutor to the Royesse Iselle, half-sister of the current king of Chalion. He begins the work of teaching her multiple languages, history, geography, politics, and how to tell when a man is lying to her. All of these skills and more are needed when she and her brother, the heir to Chalion's thrown, are called to court. Cazaril is required to travel with them, even though he knows that the man who betrayed him serves there as the king's high chancellor. And worse yet, he discovers that the whole royal family is under a generations-long curse. This was my second read of this book, the first one being back in 2008 so I remembered almost nothing. It's a clever and well constructed fantasy, with the twists and turns I expect and love from a Lois McMaster Bujold novel. This time around, the age gap romance (between a 20 year old and a 35 year old) made me raise my eyebrows. It fits thematically into the story but also, why.

The Ribbon Skirt by Cameron Mukwa

This is a gentle queer comic for younger readers. Ten year old Anang decides they want to make a ribbon skirt to wear to an upcoming powwow. A ribbon skirt is a piece of celebratory clothing typically worn by Anishinaabe women, and Anang isn't entirely sure what their friends or community will think about them wearing one. But the spirit world encourages Anang. The lakes, the crows, turtles, waves, and trees participate in helping Anang gather all of the supplies they need, despite some light resistance from other characters in the story. Short and sweet, this is lovely introduction to two-spirit and nonbinary identities for a kid who hasn't heard of them yet, and an affirming story for a young person who already inhabits a gender-nonconforming space!

Tokyo These Days vol 2 by Taiyo Matsumoto

Shiozawa continues to attempt to build a collection of artists for a new manga magazine. He visits old friends, writers whose talent he's loved for years. Some of them have retired from the business. Some are busier than ever. Some love the direction their work has gone since Shiozawa last saw them; others believe their work has become soulless and commercial. I love how the authors are portrayed as unique, flawed humans with human histories. They have families, disabilities, insecurities, dreams. We meet Chosaku's ex-wife and daughter on a weekend visit. Hayashi continues to struggle with her main artist, Aoki, who struggles with insomnia and flees back to his hometown. Creating manga is depicted as half a calling, half an affliction.

Death At Morning House by Maureen Johnson, read by Katherine Littrell 

This is more of a 3.5 or 3.75 but rounded up because it was queer and out of my extreme affection for Maureen Johnson's murder mysteries. This one introduces a new character, Marlowe, who gets into a spot of trouble with some accidental arson while on a date with the girl of her dreams, and then runs away to an absurd summer job on one of the thousand islands on the St Lawrence River. Marlowe joins a group of five other teens who already all know each other to serve as a tour guide for Morning House, the mansion of a rich doctor and eugenicist who summered with his seven children on the island in the 1920s- that is, until two of them died there. And the island has seen another death, more recently. Marlowe didn't show up to solve crimes, but if she wants to make it home at the end of the summer, she'll have to. Similar in tone to the Truly Devious series, this book was a very easy and fun listen. I wish the eugenics thread had either been cut, or better developed, but Marlowe is a delightful character to follow and if this book gets a sequel I will definitely listen to it.

If You’ll Have Me by Eunnie 

This is an extremely sweet and delightfully illustrated sapphic romance, which only partly hinges on a misunderstanding as the main conflict. Momo is a shy college freshman, a rule follower, a hard worker who didn't date or party at all in high school. She runs into PG, seemingly mid-hookup with a friend of a friend who claimed to be too sick to come to class. After that first encounter, Momo seems to see PG everywhere, and each time with a different girl. Clearly, PG is a player and also in a completely different league than Momo. Except, when a cautious new friendship begins to develop between them, PG seems unfailing chivalrous and polite. Which is the real PG? And how much trouble will Momo get into if she lets her feelings become something more? I really enjoyed the bright color palette and confident line art.

Tokyo These Days vol 3 by Taiyo Matsumoto

I appreciated so deeply how this series represented artists wrestling with their creative practices. Some draw steadily for years, with a similar quality level of work. Others struggle with writers block, family tragedies, self esteem, rough deadlines, with falling out of love with their stories, or their editors, or the time commitment of being a full time author. This series also shows how a patient and support editor can absolutely made an artists career- or how the lack of one can destroy it. This is such a human slice-of-life story, and I liked its open but hopeful ending.

Gay the Pray Away written and read by Natalie Naudus 

Seventeen year old Valerie wishes she could pick up any book at the library without fear, wishes she could pick her own clothes, wishes she was allowed to hang out unsupervised with friends, watch movies, or just spend time on the internet. But her family is part of a very extreme Christian community which home schools their children, limits the media they are allowed to access, controls their movement, wardrobes, and social lives. Valerie is expected to join family Bible studies daily, volunteer at the Church, and marry a boy in the community shortly after her eighteenth birthday. She isn't excited about any of this- in fact, she spends much of her time daydreaming or bored nearly to tears- but what else can she do? Then she finds a queer book with a fairly nondescript cover at the library. And a new girl- a girl with short hair, a girl who wears jeans- joins the Church. Valerie is captivated. The new girl represents a window into freedom and Valerie wants as much of that freedom as she can hold. I have some critiques about how this book ended, but I'm also very aware that I am not part of its target audience. Hopefully this book will find its way into the hands of teens who need it.

Gender Studies by Ajuan Mance

A slim but insightful collection of memoir comics on the intersecting identities of being Black, queer, gender nonconforming, and a nerd. These stories are thought provoking, funny, and delightful well drawn.

Clever Girl: Jurassic Park by Hannah McGregor

McGregor turns the film Jurassic Park over in their hands, like a piece of amber, to examine it from all sides and finds a story packed with possibilities of liberatory, queer, and feminist readings. From thoughts on the monstrous feminine, reproductive control, missing mothers, and found family, this text weaves together a rich tapestry of threads. I completely understand now why this film (which I half-watched once at a distracting party, but now want to revisit) has becomes such an enduring classic. The ending note advocates for the building of networks of mutual aid and care during and after apocalypse, something I need more and more desperately in this damaged world.

House of Women by Sophie Goldstein 

Four women arrive on a jungle planet via spaceship with a mission to create a school and educate/ tame the indigenous species of beings there. Like most colonizers, they think they are doing something good by bringing the light of civilization into the supposed darkness of the wilderness. Like most colonizers, they completely fail to understand the people they have come in contact with the project ends in devastating violence. The art in this book is extremely elegant, with powerful black and white design and pattern work illustrating a believable alien world. If you've ever read The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell, this is story has some similarities in tone and theme but much shorter and more condensed, as necessitated by the comics format. It's not a hopeful or kind story, but I thought it was executed extremely well.

Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H. read by Ashraf Shirazi 

Lamya H weaves together memoir with stories from the Quran, introspection on prophets, myths, histories, and alternate readings, into a compelling whole. As a gender-nonconforming baby queer, Lamya struggled under the oppressive roles and limited options available to them in the Arab speaking country to which their parents moved for work in their childhood. But a lightning strike of realization in a Quran study class- that Maryam could also be read as a depressed lesbian- fed Lamya's imagination with new possibility. Lamya moved to the United States for college and grad school, navigating new friendships with other liberal Muslims and new prejudices against brown bodies, especially bodies wearing hijab. One compelling chapter outlines the nightmare of bureaucratic hoops that need to be jumped through to renew student and work visas; the author compares choosing to stay in the US to staying in an abusive relationship. But Lamya fell for New York City, and for the family, chosen, queer, and blood, that they collected over the years. I really appreciated this book for offering a perspective I'd never read before, and for its fierce insistence that one can absolutely be both Muslim and queer.

Vivian’s Ghost by Hal Schrieve

Holy shit, this comic. I fell head-first into this 350 page scratchy black and white comic and read it all in one wild evening. The story follows a set of very messy trans people, several literally haunted by a violent ghost from their pasts. Collin, Vivian, and Andrew orbited each other as awkward, horny trans teenagers, trying to define the edges of their own identities through sex, alcohol, long tumblr posts, and Rocky Horror shows, mostly without supportive parents. Vivian died at 17. At 26, Collin in a cam boy and weed delivery guy in NYC during the early days of the pandemic; Andrew has de-transitioned, married a man, is trying to get pregnant and has sold quotes to an anti-trans journalist writing opinion pieces about the dangers of minors transitioning. Multiple times while reading this I found myself thinking "a cis person could never have written this;" its so deeply steeped in trans longings, fears, desires, neuroses, rage, yearnings, and hope. It's not an easy or safe story; it doesn't have a fully happy ending. But I consumed it and it consumed me in return. If you are struggling to find this book available in print, it is possible to read the whole story on the author's instagram page.

Breathe: Journeys to Healthy Binding by Maia Kobabe and Sarah Peitzmeier read by Sarah Peitzmeier, Kieran Todd, Blair Baker, Alejandro Antonio Ruiz, Livvie Lin and Kiebpoli Calnek

I finally sat down to listen to the audiobook, which was narrated primarily by my co-author Sarah Peitzmeier along with her research partner Kieran Todd, and the wonderful cast of Blair Baker, Alejandro Antonio Ruiz, Livvie Lin and Kiebpoli Calnek. It was such a pleasure to hear these characters' voices come to life, and see how the workbook and stretching exercise pages were handled! Obviously I am very proud of the print edition which contains my illustrations; but I am so happy that the audiobook exists as well, for anyone who prefers audio (or likes to take in audio and print side by side).

Kochab by Sarah Webb

One day when out skiing, Sonya's scarf is stolen by a flying snow spirit. She chases it deep into the forest and breaks a ski after a reckless jump. Lost without supplies in the dead of winter, Sonya follows the faint trail of light and finds an impossible palace inhabited by one sleeping fire spirit, Kyra. Kyra's home was once bright, full of life and community. Now it is derelict and crumbling, under attack by the forces of ice. This is a slim story, fairy tale-like. I wanted a little more from the plot, given the book's length; but the pages are stunning. Everything from the character movement, background designs, color choices, to dynamic panel layouts impressed me. I know I'll be looking through this book again in the future when I need some visual inspiration.

Buckle Up by Lawrence Lindell

Lonnie's parents are recently divorced, and he's still getting used to splitting time between two different houses- one with his mom and older sister, one with his dad. He's still getting used to being picked up by alternating parents from school, and he's trying to hide these facts from his friends. This short, tender story uses the framing device of these car rides to show Lonnie facing some weighty conversations with his parents. The majority of the book takes place in the car and I really loved seeing how Lonnie learned to speak up for himself, to work through problems, and verbalize his emotions. Highly recommend for elementary school readers, especially ones experiencing big feelings.

How It All Ends by Emma Hunsinger 

Tara was "accelerated" from seventh grade straight into high school at the advice of some of her teachers, but in the first few weeks of school she feels deeply unready. The school is so big, the schedule confusing, the hallways packed, and her end-of-day English class is full of some of the rowdiest, rudest boys she's ever met. Tara would much rather stay at home playing pretend with her baby brother or go back to middle school and take the eighth grade trip to Six Flags that she had to miss. Even with her older sister, already in tenth grade, willing to lend a hand by drawing her school maps, showing her the dating reality TV show everyone is talking about, and taking her to hangouts in the park, Tara is struggling. But there's this girl. A smart, funny, interesting girl, who partners up with Tara for English assignments and laughs at her jokes. Meeting this girl might just be the one thing that makes high school worth it. I had such a fun time with this comic- it's full of whimsical daydream sequences that really show Tara's internal world. I highly recommend this, especially to anyone who felt (or feels) unready to leave childhood and enter teenagerdom.

[dsireland86]

Omg I just read Denial and it was so good! But we need a follow up please on how the boys find out that Matt & Y/N are finally together and of course the bet they made pretty please with a cherry on top 🥰

Sweet!!! I'm really happy you liked it!! I thought it turned out really good, too. Let's see what I can come up with for a part 2

Denial Pt. 2

18+below the cut

Tags: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers

Y/N woke up, stretching and yawning. The bright sun was pouring through the closed blinds, trying to make itself visible. Looking around, she searched the room for the one person she thought for sure she'd see when waking up, but Matt's sweet face was nowhere to be seen.

Matt pushed open the door with his foot, carrying a can of Celsius on one hand and a steaming hot cup of coffee in the other. He didn't look up at her, in fear he'd break his concentration of walking all the way from the kitchen to the bedroom without spilling a drop.

Y/N watched him, smiling big, biting her lip the moment Matt sat the cup down on the bedside table next to her.

"Hi," he said with a grin. "Hi," Y/N replied. "I made you coffee." "I see that." I didn't know what you usually put in yours." "What did you put in it?" "Two sugars and a little milk." "Oh dang, I usually take five sugars." Matt's face wrinkled in disgust, making Y/N chuckle. "I'm kidding, Matt. The way you made it is perfect." Matt relaxed, climbing into bed with her. 

He at least had shorts on, but Y/N was still naked.

"I'm already addicted to the feeling of your skin against mine," Matt confessed rubbing his nose against hers

"Well then, these need to come off," Y/N teased, rubbing her leg against his shorts.

Matt sat up, instantly taking them off and tossing them to the floor, parting her legs to lay back down.

His cock that was soft a few minutes ago was hard now, pressed close against her sex. Matt rutted softly against her as they slowly kissed. Her small whimpers instigated every thought he was having of being inside her to the point that he was trying hard to move just his tip against her.

Y/N slightly wiggled around until finally Matt slipped inside her, filling her sex completely. The way he stretched her, moving against her walls like he'd known them forever, made Y/N completely defenseless. She dug at his back, running her nails all the way down to his ass, squeezing it as she pushed him up into her.

Matt grunted over and over, gently thrusting into her, yet hard enough so she'd remember him throughout the day.

"Oh god, I hate how much I need you," he groaned, sliding his lips over the skin of her neck. He kept going, reaching her breasts and wrapping his lips around each nipple, sucking them and rolling them around his tongue. He reached her belly sweetly peppering it with kisses. But that wasn't where Y/N wanted him.

She thrusted her hips, forcing her soaked, aching sex into Matt until he got the idea. Looking up at her, Matt grinned softly before lowering his face between her legs. He could already smell her sex and it smelled amazing.

Using just the tip of his tongue, Matt teased Y/N, getting off on just the way she panted and moaned for him. Her soft cries as she clawed at the bed sheets had his mind on a high. Never before had he made love to a girl who responded to him in the way Y/N was.

"You're pussy tastes so fucking good, baby." He peered up at her, grinning when he saw her watching him. Spreading her wet folds open, Matt went deep inside her with his tongue, licking, sucking, and nipping until all that could be heard was her loud, desperate moans and cries.

"Fuck, Matt, you're gonna make me cum! Don't stop!"

She pushed him against her sex, thrusting lightly into his mouth. It wasn't until the friction of his nose rubbing against her clit started that the immense pressure in her lower abdomen became unmanageable and before she could say anything she gripped the bed sheets tightly, crying Matt's name as her orgasm ripped through her, completely ruining her.

Matt cleaned her with his tongue, swallowing everything, then wiped his mouth before collapsing next to her. Y/N was breathless, eyes closed tightly as she tried to recover.

"You okay?" Matt was a little worried he'd overdone it. Luckily, Y/N nodded, finally turning over and looking at him.

"That was a little intense."

"First time for everything," Matt smirked. "It sure is." "What?" "That was a first for me." Matt sat up, shocked. "You're lying!" Y/N shook her head. "How's that even possible?" She shrugged. "Matt, I've only been with two guys before you, and both of them were serious relationships." Matt's brows creased. "You've never had an overnight fling or anything like that?" Y/N shook her head again. "Wow! I feel like a man whore now," Matt laughed. "Why? How many girls have you been with?" Matt laughed nervously. "Ummm, well," he huffed another laugh, "at least five or six." Y/N's widened in surprise. "Damn." "Or seven.." "Seven!" "I'm joking," he smiled. Y/N threw a pillow at him. "Funny," she rolled her eyes.

"I thought so," Matt said, standing up and holding his hands out. "Come on, let's go shower before heading over to the studio. Noah's been blowing up my phone this morning."

"Oh god! You know why, don't you?" Y/N groaned, getting up and wrapping the sheet around her as she took Matt's hand.

"Um, should I?"

"Remember, they already think we're a thing, Matt. I bet you Noah's already made a bet or something with the others over if we've slept together or not."

Matt laughed, closing the bathroom door. He turned on the shower, making sure the water was the right temperature before turning back to her and pulling the sheet off her body.

"You overthink things way too much," he said, scooping her up in his arms, kissing her madly to the point that she quickly forgot about Noah or anything else.

"Round two?" Matt muttered against her lips, pulling her into the shower and under the hot water.

"Absolutely!"

Y/N and Matt stole one more heated kiss before exiting the car. He walked into the studio first, Y/N tagging along behind him quietly, pretending to be interested in something on her phone. It took all her effort not to reach out and take his hand just to feel his skin on hers.

The moment they walked into the studio, Y/N felt all eyes on her. She smiled at the guys, noticing the looks they were giving her and Matt; especially Noah. The shit eating grin on his face was already making her paranoid.

"What?" "What?" "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Like what?" She rolled her eyes at Noah, sighing. "Leave me alone, Noah, please." "Have a late night?" You give him a hard scowl. "What are you implying?" Noah shakes his head, trying hard to mask his grin. "Nothing. Did they fix the water pipe in your building yet?" "I don't know yet," Y/N scowled at him skeptically. "What did you and Matt do last night?" "I don't know, Noah, I fell asleep before he even came home," she answered, clearly irritated.

"Wow, okay, calm down, I was just asking," Noah said defensively, holding his hands up.

Y/N growled in frustration, storming off before Noah could drill her for any more information.

Jolly came over to Noah, folding his arms over his chest. "Well, what do you think?" "Oh," Noah laughed, turning to face Jolly. "They clearly slept together." "Fuck!" Jolly cursed. "Well, I'm not paying up until you can prove it." "Alright, that's fine," Noah said. "But I will. Just watch." He patted Jolly on the back before walking away.

Throughout the day, Matt focused hard on the music and the upcoming tour. He poured himself into it, working with Folio on a new drum pattern for a revised edition of an older song. Jolly and Nick hammered out some new chords with Noah tracking some new vocal sounds, trying to find new ways to revamp some of the songs.

Y/N drowned herself in helping Bryan organize and edit photos from the previous shows they did, which were a few sporadic ones here and there. But, no matter how hard she and Matt tried, they couldn't keep their eyes off each other for too long.

Finally, towards the end of the day, Y/N couldn't handle it any longer and pulled Matt into a small bathroom, locking the door.

"It's too dark," Matt whispered, feeling around in the darkness for any sign of Y/N.

"That's the whole point. We don't want to draw attention," she replied quietly, removing her shirt.

Matt's hands found her, running over the softness of her small breast, instantly making her nipples hard.

"Oh baby," he moaned for her, pinching the pebbled flesh between his thumbs and fingers.

"How wet are you for me?" he asked, slipping his hand down her leggings and under her panties, straight into her pussy.

"Oh fuck, so wet," he groaned. "Matty," Y/N whined quietly. "What do you want, baby? You want me inside you." "Uh-huh, yeah, I do, right now."

In the pitch black, Matt quickly undressed, lifting Y/N onto the counter and removing her remaining clothing. He didn't waste a second, pulling her into him and filling her fully with his hard cock. His thickness against her walls was more than she could handle, and Matt had to press his hand against her mouth to keep her quiet as he fucked her hard.

It wasn't long until both of them came together, panting and sweaty as they clung to one another.

"Holy shit, Y/N, is this what I've been missing all this time," Matt said, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. She caressed his back, kissing the side of his head and laying her cheek on his shoulder.

"I know. You feel amazing inside me."

Matt's lips found hers in the dark, their tongues breaking the barriers of their teeth and meeting wildly. His hands tangled in her hair, as did hers in his.

"I don't want anyone else, Y/N. Only you. Let's make this thing for real. I don't care what the fuck the guys say and how much the make fun of us. You're the one I want. It's always been you.”

Tears rolled down Y/N's eyes over Matt's confession. All the months of working for him, trying to keep her feelings for him suppressed, were finally over.

"I want nothing more than you too, Matt. You're my person. You've always been my person. Yes, let's make this thing for real."

Matt pulled out of her, finding enough paper towels to clean her up with, and finally turning the light on, they dressed, grinning at one another as they did. Matt kissed her on the forehead, wrapping his arms around her.

A sudden knock on the door startled both of them, making their hearts beat heavily against their chests. Matt and Y/N look at one another, eyes wide.

"I'm in here," Matt called out.

"Matt, have you seen Y/N? I can't find her. I need her help editing the last few photos."

Both of them sighed, exhaling in relief.

"No, I haven't. Last time I saw her she was with you. But I'm taking a dump, so if you don't mind,"

"Oh yeah, sorry man," Bryan apologized, walking away.

Y/N giggled quietly, kissing Matt quickly. He turned the light off and left the bathroom, texting Y/N moments later that the coast was clear.

"Noah, I think you're wrong, man. I'm not seeing anything that proves the two of them slept together."

Jolly grabbed his bag, ready to leave the studio.

Noah was frustrated. He was more than sure Matt and Y/N had slept together and were a thing. He was about to call the deal off when he saw Matt exit the bathroom. "Hey," he grinned, patting Jolly on the shoulder and pointing towards the bathroom. They watched as Matt closed the door and  moments later Y/N sneaking out and walking off in the opposite direction. Jolly groaned, looking over at Noah.

"I'll take my fifty bucks now," he smirked, holding his hand out. Jolly groaned, slapping a fifty into Noah's hand before walking away.

"They all know, now," Matt told her, running his finger up and down her shoulder. Y/N was curled up into him, her head resting on his chest as she danced her fingers along his skin. She took a deep breath, exhaling quickly.

"How do you know?" "Noah called me after everyone left the studio. You were right, they all already knew."

Y/N sat up, looking down at Matt.

"See, I told you! And you told me I was overthinking too much. Ha!" "Alright, slow your roll cougar," Matt ordered, pulling her back down on him. "If we're going to make this thing work, you need to trust my intuition. I know things." "Oh you do, do you," Matt chuckled, lightly tickling her sides and making her giggle. "Yeah, I do," she laughed, sitting back up. "Do you know what I'm thinking?"

Her eyes narrowed at Matt, seeing that familiar twinkle in his eyes. She knew exactly what he was thinking from the way his hand traveled to crotch.

Y/N straddled him, scooting down, far enough to position herself where she wanted.

"Oh yeah, I know exactly what you're thinking," she grinned at him, lowering her head down between his legs.

Matt sighed, closing his eyes and laying his hand on the back of her head as she took him in her mouth and began giving him the best head he'd ever had.

[gunnrblze]

As One

Fed!Elias AU, part one. SFW (it’ll become nsfw though). Quite a bit of this first part is based off Devils Breath, which is intentional. Swear im not just copying it lol.

TW: blood, torture, vomit. it’s not too graphic but it’s there. Rorke is terrible, of course.

————————————————————————

The heat was suffocating.

Buzzing surrounded him, his head thick and cottony, pounding through his skull like a bass drum. Sticky skin and a dry mouth, Elias didn’t even need to open his eyes to understand what was happening.

He regretfully did so anyway, being greeted with the dim sight of some sort of hatch contraption, atop whatever hole in the ground he was carelessly thrown into. Every bone in his body ached, desperate to hold onto whatever strength he had left.

Mud coated his clothing, the heavy downpour soaking into the ground below, making his resting spot squish with every slight movement. Not that he wanted to move, but duty called. The deafening sound of a chopper whirled over his hole in the ground, a light that felt far too bright shining down on him.

Double checking, as he came to understand. Not searching. Not rescuing. Ensuring, that he was still in his place.

Merrick wouldn’t be obvious, not if he found me like this. They’d come quiet, he thought. Knew.

Elias also understood, in the back of his fuzzy mind, that he wouldn’t necessarily be getting out of this pit, not until he came and dragged him out. But he’d be out of sorts if he didn’t at least try. Why wouldn’t he try?

Bruised knuckles wrapped around the wet branches of his makeshift cell, eyes blinking to avoid being assaulted with the harsh rain. First trying a push method, only to fail once more as he fruitlessly tried to pull the hatch down toward his body instead, chains around his wrists clanking. Staked into the earth somehow, an initial wave of anxiety washed over him as he confirmed what he already knew.

He was stuck.

Stuck, but he’d been stuck before. He was a damn soldier. He gave it enough goes again until he realized that conserving his brittle energy would be the smarter option. His body was wracked with an ache of unknown origin, his mind not quite catching up to all that had happened beforehand. But he did remember pieces. Wasn’t as old as his boys liked to tease him for being.

Logan’s face was fresh in his mind. Twisted into an expression he couldn’t quite recognize, part of him felt fortunate for that. Bound to that chair above him, squirming and wriggling like it’d make anymore of a difference. He could hear the echoes of Hesh’s threats in the back of his head, vowing to kill Rorke. Crying out for the only two people he had left, clinging, like he did to his mother’s hip as a child.

Elias could feel the throbbing wounds on his chest burn from the bullets Rorke doled out, his hands trailing over them with a wince. They were no doubt on a fast track to infection, despite being shittily plugged and patched up between now and then. Who shoots you and then patches you up? A sick person, he decided.

His damned sick person.

He’d examine that lump in his throat another time. He didn’t have too long before the man in question showed up, he’d guessed. It was impossible to tell what time it was, the darkness of the sky above unrelenting. Impossible to tell how long he’d been here. Guessing by his wounds and his physical state though, not all that long.

He knew they had to be looking, though. That gave him an ounce of ease. The team looked for Rorke when he fell off the heli. For months. They searched for him, for their captain. He searched for Gabriel.

They had to be looking for him. Had to be. His sons would look for him. Merrick and Keegan would look. They’d all help.

Elias couldn’t remember what had happened after he passed out, though. Did Rorke hurt his boys? What happened to Merrick? Did Keegan make it back? Did they get out? Rorke was too unpredictable to gauge any of that comfortably.

The army had taught him how to keep his head on his shoulders. He wouldn’t dwell on the possibilities just yet.

He figured he might have time for that later.

—————————————————————-

Deep in the jungles of South America, Elias had little information to go off of as he found himself being manhandled out of the ground by two federation soldiers.

They looked more giddy than he’d liked.

Everyone had heard stories of what the Feds liked to do to their prisoners. Their victims. Hell, the proof was plastered all across the roughened skin of Gabriel Rorke. Branding him, the first of his kind to be taken to some place beyond hell, a space that transcended all others. Pure and utter terror.

The first of his kind. But not the last.

Elias’ head thudded on the soggy grass of the rainforest floor, groaning from the deep throb of his injuries. It was a split second decision he made, before he found his shackled feet kicking and twisting as methodically as they could out of the Feds grip.

“Perra reactiva, eh?” the soldier behind him chuckled, the man’s voice deeper than he expected to hear before a muddy boot landed against the side of his head, his vision blackening and taking over the burning white from the sun above.

The soldiers were younger, freshly trained and primed for the kill. Except Elias wouldn’t be killed by anyone. He hadn’t ever been all that lucky, he knew that much. His wife used to chastise him for saying it, telling him not to jinx himself, especially not in his line of work.

But it followed Elias around like a gray cloud, raining down on him without so much as a moment's notice. Bad luck it seemed, could alter the course of his life within the blink of an eye.

It was about twenty more seconds he counted until the two boys had him up on his sore feet, a balmy hand around the back of his neck, gripping tight as the muzzle of a gun sits itself on his lower back. Gnats swarmed his head, the blistering forest heat licking up his spine and drying his skin out already.

He didn’t argue their arrangement this time.

He forcibly walked toward a small structure a few paces away, to a hut like contraption that looked more flimsy and dingy than anything. Four pieces of aluminum, topless, so the sun can reflect off the walls he guessed. It housed a little metal bed, and some other nonsense he couldn’t quite make out from the outside view.

The soldiers talked over their comms only for a moment, before Elias heard that laugh. That deep, rumbly, godforsaken laugh. A shot of poison into his veins, souring his spirit immediately.

“Lieutenant…welcome!” Rorke swanked out. Out from the foliage, not making a sound otherwise. Phantom like, appearing out of nowhere as he locked eyes with Elias, a wicked little smirk on his scarred face.

Elias couldn’t miss the way Rorkes eyes roved over his ragged body, stripped of all his gear and weapons, the lieutenant looked more aged than usual. Chained and grimacing, he didn’t look nearly as threatening as he might have hoped in this situation.

“I see you’ve met my friends, haven’t ya?” Rorke taunted right off the bat, the two soldiers standing parallel to Elias with twin smirks of their own plastered on their faces. He didn’t speak to Rorke, not even when the henchman behind him dug that muzzle deeper into his back.

“Cat got your tongue, Lieutenant?” Rorkes smile dropped within the blink of an eye, his large form finishing its walk and stopping in front of Elias, arms crossed and eyes unreadable. Elias wasn’t afraid, no, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was he felt. Anger, frustration, disgust, a looming sense of anxiety? It was hard to pinpoint with the jungle heat weighing on his senses and the pain coursing through him.

And the lack of a game plan he had.

“That’s alright, Elias…I know just the thing to get ya talkin again” Rorke said, a dark satisfaction lacing his tone as he motioned his soldiers toward the hut behind him.

Elias wanted to fight, wanted to let the primal rage he felt unleash. Let the dam break and flood Rorke's jungle. But he knew better, knew better than to fight a losing battle. So he made his steps less defiant, figuring there was no use in arguing what was about to happen.

Rorke would give it to him regardless.

The older man almost enjoyed Elias’ uncharacteristic silence, as much as it irritated him. He followed his men into the hut, calling out for some other trigger happy little soldiers to bring their tools with them, to join the rest of the party.

Elias was stripped of his uniform and another piece of his dignity, strapped to the searing metal bed by two fed soldiers. His body was weak, covered in scratches and bruises of varying colors. The three gunshot wounds on his chest were inflamed and oozing, nasty fuckers that were slowly poisoning his bloodstream. It wasn’t too long before he could smell his skin singeing on the metal beneath him.

One soldier pried his jaw open, two helped shove a plastic tube down his throat and into his gut. Blood trickled hot from the corners of his mouth, sputtering on it as he uselessly fought against the restraints. His body was on fire and his head spinning.

What felt like a gallon of dirty water rushed down the tube and into Elias’ stomach, bloating him up and making his body go into panic mode. But he fought it, training kicked in like second nature, and he withstood it. Even with the soldiers laughing around him, mocking the gurgled noises he made.

Even with Rorke watching from the side, watching Elias lie unclothed and useless on the makeshift bed. The same one he’d been placed on, changed and transformed on. The one that still showed the receipts of his own body, skin and blood stewing with Elias’s now.

Bonding them.

——————————————————————

It was a cycle that survival and resistance training didn’t quite speak for. Tier ones are still human, after all.

Gabriel Rorke hadn’t been taken as a POW. No, he was the Federation's own toy. Theirs to create a brand new make and model of. With no one looking for the captain, he, in a manner of speaking, had become a real life ghost. No need for following the Geneva Convention when you weren’t handling a civilian or a soldier. Or a Marine, or a man.

No need for humanity when you’re no longer considered human.

Elias fell victim to this cycle. Pints and pints of water pumped into his stomach, punched out by Rorke’s henchmen. Filled back up and then thrown back up while his throat convulsed around nothing. Skin molded and burnt against searing metal, blood leaking from more than one orifice by this point. He hadn’t eaten in god knows how long, and the water forced in and then back out of his body wasn’t quite as hydrating as one would hope.

He was only able to wonder how it must’ve felt for his Captain. How Gabriel felt enduring the same treatment. Everyone breaks, the man had told him.

Water, spew. Water, spew. Cough up blood. Black out a little, but not fully. Not yet. Let the echoes of the Fed soldiers yelling knock more screws loose in his head. He was better than this. Stronger.

Until he wasn’t.

Until his body started to degenerate and his brain followed suit happily. Mind bouncing around various points of his life. He saw his boys, his men, in the distance. Then the sand sticking to the bloodied bodies of his brothers during Sand Viper. His wife, his boys again, infants in the hospital this time. Hesh’s head of thick hair, Logan’s insistence on not latching during a feeding.

His training was proving friable after all. Tripping around decades and wandering to stretches of his brain previously uncharted. Elias was thrown back into the pit as unceremoniously as possible, his wounds left to fester, his mind left to shrivel.

Rorke would not show him mercy. He didn’t expect any. That didn’t stop him from pitying Gabriel, though. Wondering what could’ve been, between every flashback his mind provided, every memory, good and bad.

Days went by, and he savored every rotten glimpse he got of the man.

[genopaint]

Been in a big Axel the Alligator mood lately so I redesigned some characters the last couple days and even introduced a new villain!!

Here's some of the notes I included about them all from twitter :) it's below the readmore

To go along with the new Axel the Alligator arts I did a bit ago, I figured I should draw the No-Name Grunt again! I gave them a bit of a make over from last time

Most notably their suits are now purple to match Camilla the Chameleon's, since they are her henchmen after all!

If you don't recall, these are basically Axel's goomba. The basic bottom of the barrel enemy the main characters fight. They're all a part of Camilla's seemingly never ending gang. They all follow her every order because they're obsessed with her, but she can't even be bothered to remember their names. Thus, the No-Names. Instead, they're each given a numbered belt and she just calls them by their number.

There's TONS of No-Names, that's why there's even color variations for the grunts you encounter. But there's even different classes of No-Names.

Like bruisers, fliers, stuff like that. However, I want to redesign them a bit more cause I wasn't 100% on their old designs. SO you'll have to wait and see if I bother with them. But you get the idea, the grunt kind of represents the whole army of underlings anyway.

Oh, and of course... No-Name 10,000. The super special ultra rare No-Name encounter. When you defeat it, it drops TONS of gold and exp!

Also some really quick sketches for some of the other No-Name classes with this suit redesign. I think it's cute they're all kind of matching but now I worry maybe they're not unique enough? Before their suits were all different colors... idk... Much to think about...

It's gonna be a WHILE before I get to make an Axel the Alligator game so I'll keep thinking on it lol

And of course there's probably gonna be a lot of No-Name enemy types it all just depends on what I would want / need for each game I suppose lol.

They're like Badniks, they reuse a lot of old ones but new ones or variants could show up wherever it's needed

----

And of course, where there's No-Names, there's the No-Name generals! Similarly, Camilla doesn't care to remember their names. But they're juuuuust important enough to be allowed to command her underlings when she's off doing more important things.

Uno the Uromastyx is Camilla's original #1 super fan, and as such is the leader of the generals. He's a bit stuck up and loves to wave the fact he's #1 in the others faces.

Dos the Daboia is a bit of a loser and is ALWAYS panicking. He's constantly worried his suit is too blue.

And Tres the Tree Lizard is a chaotic girl who loves explosives. She's constantly building bombs to create chaos. Whenever the No-Names use explosives, they're probably her creations.

They're the ultimate undying loyalists to Camilla, and they all HATE Carnage and Behemoth because the trio was there first and yet Camilla makes Carnage and Behemoth her right hand men. Out ranking even the No-Name generals.

But of course, Uno, Dos, and Tres stand no chance at ever beating either of them. Even if they gang up on them.

----

Two more Axel the Alligator characters! Sol the Saurus I've shown before and has a shiny new redesign. But Ceaser the Ceratops is his brand-spanking-new rival!! Pretty neat!

These two existed from before the meteorite came... What on earth are they doing in present day???

Sol fights with a giant sword that builds energy as its swung, and Ceaser fights with a giant shield that builds energy as its hit. They used to be allies but that was a long long long time ago

Also I'm not 100% on Ceaser's design or name so don't be surprised if I touch it up

Also here's an updated height chart with the No-Names and these dinosaurs. Again it's not 100% accurate but it gives an idea (Behemoth IS taller than Dos it's just a bad pose I promise)

also a comparison with some short guys in front of the dinosaurs :)

My concept is that Axel characters don't really stop growing as they age (which I believe real reptiles do the same thing?) so since these dinosaurs are from ancient times they'd have grown a CRAZY amount in the mean time. idk

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 35

Spoilers for ISAT/Two Hats below! CW: Fear of Mortality I guess? Emotional Devastation, Desperation.

(The last thing you remember is falling. Falling, then suddenly...)

(You're here again, in the lightless void.)

(It felt like you blinked and suddenly you were just... here. You look down at yourself, confirming you're in one piece and fine.)

(You notice a light shining on you from behind. When you turn to investigate, you're met with a wondrous sight.)

(A vast field of stars, extending above and below the horizon. In the center of it, the stars coalesce into a point almost too bright to look at. And coming from it, almost too faint to hear... You think you hear the sea.)

(You weren't quite sure what you were looking at... but it felt oddly comforting, inviting. You take a step closer to it before a voice calls to you from behind, one you hadn't heard for decades... yet it still sends a shiver through your spine.)

"Ooooo... Isn't it beautiful, bright one?"

(You quickly turn in shock, instinctively reaching for your weapon that you don't currently have. You expect to see the sadness within you again... You almost hope for it instead... yet you don't, you're met with the sight of the King himself. Smaller, shorter hair, the state you left him in when he was frozen.)

(You freeze in place as a mix of emotions floods your mind. Confusion, fear, anger, relief? You're not sure if this or your sadness would be a better sight at the moment.)

"Ooo, bright one... I see the anger within you... There is no need for it here." (The king takes a step towards you. You take one backwards to keep the distance.)

"Why... Why are you here? What's going on?"

"Don't you see it, bright one?" (He gestures towards the light behind you, to which you cautiously turn to look.) "Do you not recognize what it is?"

(You focus on the inviting light a bit longer... Before it suddenly clicks.) "This... It's home?..."

"Ooooo, indeed it is, bright one." (You hear the King's footsteps once more, but you're too transfixed to care. He suddenly walks past you, towards the light.) "It is home. Only open to us now, here at the end."

"The end?... What do you mean?"

"The end of our stories, bright one." (The king pauses on his walk towards the light.) "Ooooo, you haven't realized it yet... It matters not, bright one. The Universe is leading us home."

"But... I was... I'm still looping... Why would it stop now? I-I... Wait, wh-what about Vale?! What happened to them?!"

"One of your friends, is it? Ooooo, I cannot say, bright one, I cannot say... but..." (The king starts to walk towards the light again.) "It is so beautiful, bright one..."

(You feel the longer in your head for what's been lost to you for so long... you take a single step towards it before you realize what you're doing.) "... N-No... No I can't! Not now! Why now?!"

"The Universe leads, bright one... We can only follow..." (The light slowly grows brighter. It's warm and familiar, like the feeling of the sun on the beach.)

"No! No I'm done letting the universe decide! I love my whole life! Twice! I won't lose everything again! Not like this! Not now!!"

"Ooooooo, bright one... It is not up to us anymore."

(The light continues to grow brighter. In your head... memories start to return. You wince and turn from the light, trying so hard to resist what would be an otherwise wonderful gift.)

"No!!!" (You start to sprint in the opposite direction, tears welling up in your eye. You desperately try and block out the memories that return, not wanting to accept any temptation away from your life.) "NO NO NO NO NO!!!!"

(The light continues to grow brighter. Your head is buzzing with the feeling of returning memories. Your footsteps seem to have no purchase on the ground, getting you nowhere.)

(You grip your head, shutting your eye tight as tears pour down your face.) "NO!!! PLEASE!!! NOT NOW! NOT WHEN I FINALLY GOT THEM BACK!!! PLEASE!!!!!!" (You let out in a desperate scream, a plea to the Universe to send you back, at least one last time.)

(You start to remember. Your remember places. Faces. Feelings. You feel the mountain-borne wind tugging at your cloak. You feel sand under your feet. You feel the beachside sun on your face. You feel the salty spray of the ocean. You feel a tug on your stomach...)

(You gasp awake and quickly sit up, looking around frantically as tears were already pouring down your right cheek.)

"Sif?!" (Isa cries out in shock, sitting up with you and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You grip his arm back tightly and try to slow your breathing. You focus on his warmth, his heartbeat pulsing around you as it helped slow your own.)

"Isa..." (You whisper out, your panic begins to subside, but this only lets you finally break down. You hold onto him tightly as you just sob into his chest.) "I-I was so scared... I-I thought I lost you all..."

"I'm here Sif, we're all okay..." (The tent flap swings open, letting light pour in just like last time, only this time it was Vale who crouched at the entrance of it.)

"Stardust... we need to talk."

Once again, thank you to @tactical-shrubbery for emotionally devastating one of our favorite time travelling enbies!

[mysticdeath]

SCENARIO SPECIFIC STARTER CALL ﹒⌗﹒🦇﹒🐺 ˚₊‧ … below you will find a categorized list of various scenarios featuring a variety of settings and muses. by interacting with this post below, you are declaring interest in receiving a starter specific to that scenario. these will vary in length but likely yield at least a paragraph minimum. feel free to note any added context, preferences, and you'd like for us to discuss the scenario more + plot before writing. multis please also specify who you would like the scenario for, failure to do so will result in no starter.

| | | | CHARACTER SPECIFIC SCENARIOS … ————— with each, the specifics may vary.

༶ REPLY 🐊 FOR HAYLEY MARSHALL TO FIND YOUR MUSE INJURED IN THE BAYOU — with no access to proper medical care and time running out, the hybrid realizes she'll need to heal your muse with her blood if there's any hope of getting answers about what happened to lead to this situations.

༶ REPLY 👥 FOR KLAUS MIKAELSON TO USE HIS IDENTITY TO LURE YOUR MUSE INTO A TRAP — after taking possession of a new body, klaus presents himself as someone close to your muse or in need of help and attempts to lures your character into a false sense of security to achieve his latest scheme.

༶ REPLY 🔮 FOR DAVINA CLAIRE TO LOSE CONTROL OF HER POWERS AROUND YOUR MUSE — during an intense moment, davina's magic becomes volatile, and your character is there to witness her struggle to rein it in. davina realizes too late that she's exposed her vulnerability (and possibly her status as a witch), leaving your character with this newfound knowledge. will they confront her with concern, use it as leverage, offer to help, or attempt to blackmail her.

༶ REPLY 🩸 FOR JENNA SOMMERS TO BE FOUND BY YOUR MUSE WHILE EXPERIENCING HER FIRST FEED — the unfortunate victim of klaus's plan to get to elena, jenna has been turned into a vampire. confused, scared, and controlled by this new hunger, she relies on her instincts to feed.

༶ REPLY ⚫️ FOR HOPE MIKAELSON TO HAVE HER HUMANITY OFF IN FRONT OF YOUR MUSE — after a moment of intense grief, hope's mind flips its switch, shutting off her humanity. your character is one of the unlucky few to witness the tribrid without her emotions. now the only question is, will they attempt to bring her back or join her on this new, strange, emotionless adventure.

༶ REPLY 💀 FOR STEFAN SALVATORE TO CROSS PATHS WITH YOUR MUSE WHILE ACTING AS KLAUS'S RIPPER — your character crosses paths with stefan, but he's not the stefan they remember. with his humanity off and under klaus's control, he's a true ripper with a chilling smile and unrestrained hunger.

༶ REPLY 🏘️ FOR LIZZIE SALTZMAN TO BE YOUR MUSE'S COLLEGE ROOMMATE — life away from home is always hard, but it's even harder when you're trying to keep your heretic status hidden from your new roommate who may, or may not, be hiding a few supernatural secrets of their own.

༶ REPLY 🐦‍🔥 FOR LANDON KIRBY TO BE FOUND BY YOUR MUSE AFTER ONE OF HIS DEATHS — your character has stumbled upon a dead body that soon bursts into flames. after turning to ash, landon revives, unsurprised. the only real question is what happens next and whether they are friend or foe.

༶ REPLY 🔎 FOR JENNA SOMMERS TO INVESTIGATE / QUESTION YOUR MUSE — tired of being kept in the dark and confident there is far more going on than what she's being told, jenna decides to uncover the truth for herself and begins digging. one way or another, the two cross paths and jenna takes matters into her own hands to get to the bottom of things.

༶ REPLY 🚙 FOR LIZZIE SALTZMAN AND YOUR MUSE TO BE STUCK ON A ROAD TRIP TOGETHER — searching for a magical ingredient, attempting to keep an artifact safe, running for safety, etc. the why may vary, but one thing is for certain, the open road is full of possibilities and mixed feelings.

༶ REPLY ❗️ FOR KLAUS MIKAELSON TO DEMAND INFORMATION FROM YOUR MUSE — believing your character has vital information about a threat to his family or territory, klaus is relentless in his interrogation, employing charm, intimidation, compulsion, and even violence to get his answers. they must find a way to either resist or strike a deal with the original hybrid.

༶ REPLY 🖋️ FOR STEFAN SALVATORE TO HAVE A DIARY ENTRY ABOUT YOUR MUSE THAT THEY FIND — while spending time around stefan, your character stumbles upon one of his diary entries that mentions them. the entry gives them unexpected insight into stefan's thoughts and feelings, possibly bringing up memories, new emotions, or even secrets thought to be buried deep.

༶ REPLY ⚱️ FOR HOPE MIKAELSON TO SEEK OUT YOUR MUSE TO UNDERSTAND HER FAMILY'S PAST — curious about her family's dark and twisted legacy, hope seeks out your character, who either belongs to, knew, or has knowledge of the mikaelson's family history. questions are asked, stories are swapped, and possible grudges drawn.

༶ REPLY 🧊 FOR LANDON KIRBY TO HELP YOUR MUSE WHO IS STUCK BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH — your character arrives in limbo, unable to fully cross over or "find peace" — they're in a liminal state, unsure what to do or where to go. this can be in connection to a transition, a temporary vampire death, or a fatal death. as the angel of death [see: ferryman] of limbo, landon makes it his job to explain their unique situation and wait with them for nature to run its course where they can then pass on or return to the living depending on the situation at hand.

༶ REPLY 🔮 FOR DAVINA CLAIRE TO LOSE CONTROL OF HER POWERS AROUND YOUR MUSE — during an intense moment, davina's magic becomes volatile, and your character is there to witness her struggle to rein it in. davina realizes too late that she's exposed her vulnerability (and possibly her status as a witch), leaving your character with this newfound knowledge. will they confront her with concern, use it as leverage, offer to help, or attempt to blackmail her.

༶ REPLY 🐺 FOR HAYLEY MARSHALL TO SAVE YOUR MUSE FROM A WEREWOLF ATTACK — on a full moon, your character is being hunted or was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and crossed paths with a pack of werewolves. hayley intervenes and saves them, but not without consequences. now they must both hide until morning, dealing with the tension, fear, and general suspicion of one another until it is safe to leave.

༶ REPLY 👻 FOR VICKI DONAVON TO START APPEARING TO YOUR MUSE AFTER SHE'S DIED — manifesting behind them, visible in mirrors, interfering with their technology, lingering nearby only to vanish within a blink. she's desperate to communicate, to explain her situation, but her very essence clings to just how much of a believer they are and whether or not they're receptive.

| | | | ALTERNATIVELY, LIST ONE OF THE SETTINGS BELOW TO RECEIVE A STARTER SET IN OR AROUND IT : [NOTE]: you may specify a muse or decree dealer's choice for random selection …

༶ AMUSEMENT PARK/CARNIVAL. ༶ TIME LOOP. ༶ ROADSIDE DINNER. ༶ CROWDED BAR. ༶ CAMPGROUND. ༶ ALLEYWAY. ༶ MUSEUM. ༶ HOTEL/MOTEL. ༶ FOREST. ༶ CHURCH ATTIC. ༶ ABANDONED FARMHOUSE. ༶ PRISON WORLD. ༶ GRAVEYARD. ༶ HIGH SCHOOL LATE AT NIGHT. ༶ CHAMBRE DE CHASSE/THERAPY BOX SESSION.

[ttjisung]

BOSS k. jungwoo

kim jungwoo x fem!reader ᡣ𐭩 ceo au written imagine!

"i became the boss for you."

preview wc: 1.4k ᥫ᭡ official wc: ?

in which everyone fears your boss, kim jungwoo, and so do you, yet your reason feels more personal than the rest.

Thinking about how much I love Jungwoo's hair in the BOSS music video which stemmed to a fanfic about him. I'll be releasing the full version soon! Once it's out, I'll link it below. Content warnings will be posted on the actual released version. Hope you guys enjoy the preview <3

FULL VERSION HERE

For as long as you could remember, you had always heard everybody complain about their jobs. As a child, it was your parents raving about another long night shift. As a teenager, it was your friends ranting about getting fired from Wendy’s for stealing a small order of fries. It simply appeared to be in human nature to have distaste towards your job. None of what you heard had prepared you for the disdain you’d feel entering your first official office job, though. 

You had been miraculously hired as a secretary for a CEO of one of the largest companies in the country, which came as a shock to all of your friends considering the job was incredibly strict about who they’d hire. There were always rumors roaming around about the strict boss who everyone either feared or kissed up to, scaring you slightly yet bills were due and you had no other option than to clock in.

The first day was possibly one of the worst of your life, gaining stares and whispers for being the newbie. You had people below your label asking you to make them a coffee, or shutting the elevator on you when you obviously were running to catch it. It was all incredibly exhausting and the only thing motivating you was the thought of clocking out and crying to your cat while drinking a glass of wine, yet this fantasy was also shut down immediately as you were requested to meet the CEO after hours. 

Your nerves were tame at first, possibly from the misery numbing your mind, yet it spiked as you stood outside his door, stalling as you held the handle for two minutes straight. Eventually deciding to get this done with, you opened the door and stepped in. The shiny nameplate that read out Kim Jungwoo taunted you as you shifted closer to where he was. His figure sat at his obnoxiously huge chair, staring down at his desk in a manner that covered his face with both shadows and his own hair. Nonetheless, his stance was intimidating and you wanted to do nothing but submit your two-week notice and run away. Stepping into the room felt like walking straight into a predator’s cave, and the noise of the door closing behind you added to the overwhelming emotion. The noise it made caused you to flinch, and it was then that he finally looked up to observe you. 

Had he not been someone with the power of evicting you straight out of your small apartment with one snap of his fingers, you would’ve swooned. He was beautiful, and it was rare for you to say that about a man. His lips were plump, and you almost wondered if he had put lip gloss on prior to your meeting, considering they were shinier than yours have ever been. His nose could be someone’s inspiration for a nose-job, and if his eyes weren't sharply staring at you, you would compare them to that of a puppy. 

Nothing about him screamed nice though, and the clearing of his throat as he noted your dazed look reminded you that he was indeed not a puppy, and was actually your boss. Immediately straightening out your posture and paying him your attention, you silently scolded yourself for possibly angering him. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” His voice engulfed the room, becoming another trait of his that you’d be envious of, yet this time you knew not to dissociate, shaking your head, “No, sir.” “Hmmm… You see, I wanted to meet our newest employee.” His words were stern, and his eyes remained coldly locked onto yours, forcing eye-contact that made you uncomfortable. Noticing your silence at his words, he tilted his head as if he was challenging you. “What’s your name?” “I-It’s Y/n. Y/n L/n, sir.” You cursed yourself out for stuttering; the last thing you wanted was for him to sense the fear in your wobbly voice. You straighten your posture once more, realizing you had subconsciously curled into yourself as a defense mechanism. “Well, Y/n, I have to say I’m impressed,” you almost thanked him, yet the words that continued made you falter, “One day and you’re already seemingly disliked by your fellow workers. Tell me why.”  “I’m… Not quite sure actually, sir.” For the first time since you had met him, his facial expression changed, his lip shifting to a grin, bunny-esque teeth peaking out onto his lips and his eyes staring at you with an intense look, yet it felt different. “It’s ‘cause you’re new. Always happens, doesn’t it?” You had no clue as this was your first job.

“Anyway, Y/n. The truth is, I wanted to meet you because I was the one who chose to hire you.” You choked slightly as his words, looking at him with confusion obviously etched on your face that made him laugh out lightly, the sound shocking you further. He let out a sigh before standing up and walking up to you, as you had failed to sit on the chair that was put in front of his desk. “I saw your resume, which I must say was impressive, yet this is your first job. Interesting, right? That’s why they all hate you. It’s jealousy, Y/n.” The way he kept repeating your first name felt informal and made you a bit nervous, but you nodded to his words, not wanting to get on his bad side. “Thank you, sir. For umm… Hiring me. I’m very grateful-” “Save all that. I don’t need to hear it. It gets tiring after the hundredth person or so.” Nodding again, you closed your mouth and chose to not answer again unless asked to. “Wanna know why I hired you, Y/n?” “Yes, sir.” “Sure, your resume is something to rave over, although you had little to no experience. Yet, the reason I hired you was because…” He drew out his words, motioning you to come closer with his hand, and you realized his grin had become teasing, almost cheeky like a little kid planning something evil. You were already closer to him than you wanted to be, yet his motion forced you to step closer, increasing your anxiety. Leaning into you, he whispered his words into your ear as if it was a secret to tell. “I have a thing for pretty women in power.” 

Your face felt like it was on fire and shock consumed you at his bold words, considering you could probably file a complaint about his actions and have him go through several consequences, yet it was almost as if you had completely missed what he had said, looking up at him with a mouth wide open. Not only was the sentence incredibly inappropriate, his growing smile piled more unease onto you. “Wh… What?” Was all you could let out, causing him to laugh. His body moved away from yours, returning to his seat. “That would be all, Y/n. It was nice meeting you.” He waved at you from where he sat, his eyes now wearing a fuzzy infatuated look, almost as if you were his boss and he was the worker licking your shoes. The whole scenario gave you whiplash, from his flirty words to his cheeky expression. It was too much for you to handle, already worn down from a hard day, yet the words that followed his only served to add to the stress. “And call me Jungwoo, not sir. Although I like how it sounds from you, I want us to be more familiar.” You were going to faint, you were sure of it.

Walking out of his office, you had to pinch yourself several times to make sure what had occurred was reality, and not an odd figment of your imagination after watching too many work based K-dramas. Flinching at the pain from your fingers twisting your skin, you came to the horrid conclusion that what he said was indeed real, and you were going to have to face him every day for the rest of your employed life. After an hour of debriefing the situation with your cat once you arrived home, you decided to fall asleep as it was extremely late. Your last thought before your head fell onto your pillow and your eyes closed was a confirmation to the accredited conception you had known your whole life. Bosses truly were the worst thing to exist.

a/n: this is for the anon who has been asking for a jungwoo fic ^_^ don't worry i'm still releasing a full series for him after i finish my smaus but that'll take bitttt so i decided to write a one-shot instead for now :3 boss jungwoo save me NOW!

leave a note or message me to be added to the taglist once it comes out c:

[offtorivendell]

So,..I’ve read two different books that are elriel coded: NALINI SINGH’S Archangel’s Storm and Black Dagger Brotherhood, Lover Awakened. Books that if I’m not mistaken are one SJM’s favorites… Have you read it? It’s interesting that the both MMC are talented singers, scarred, killer and doesnt speak much. Jason, the angel who is a spymaster, shadow daddy and “hears secrets whispered in the winds” is so Azriel. Zsadist, the vampire with PTSD, similar personality as Jason. I saw a mixed of Jason and Zsadist in Azriel.

Their love interests are princess or aristocrat, very beautiful and well etiquette. Princess Mahiya, the angel (Jason’s mate), helped Jason with spying and she has puma eyes. She loves animal and can create a glowing ball of light. Bella, the vampire aristocrat that killed her kidnapper who is obsessed with her. I felt like I was reading Elriel in both books.

If SJM keeps the inspiration from Archangel’s Storm then it would make sense with the “fanged beast” on Elain’s part. I really think Elain may become a shape-shifter like faes from TOG and could create “a ball of light”, like Yrene or because of the starborn ability? (Oh btw, I was wondering if there’s a possibility that Yrene’s powers are connected to Starborn?)

Do you think Elain’s book will be more of beast themed? Something that is connected to Dusk Court… Anyway, what do you know of the first faes on Prythian? Are Starborn faes the oldest group that founded the Dusk Court, possibly migrating from the Erilea? It sounds like TOG faes are the first generation fae and they sort of evolved in Prythian and Lunathion? SJM made Lunathion connected to Prythian and Erilea. So, I’m wondering how Erilea is connected to Prythian? I know Aelin saw Rhys and Pregnant Feyre in KOA, but that’s it.

Ugh.. sorry for so many questions.. 🫣

Hi anon, and thanks for stopping by!

Disclaimer: the following is all theoretical; while I hope at least some of it will come true, we have to wait for SJM to let us know for sure.

Spoilers for the entire Maasverse, as well as parts of the Black Dagger Brotherhood series, are below.

I haven't read any Nalini Singh, though friends have recommended her to me a few times, so I really should fix that. I obviously cannot comment on any similarities - though I have heard similar rumours that SJM loves the books (but have never tried to corroborate them) - but @shitwillnotbegiven has posted a comparison of Elriel scenes with passages from 'Archangel's Storm' that is very compelling. I definitely recommend giving it a read. Of course we can't say for sure whether or not it was intentional, but yeah. There are similarities.

That being said, I have read the first five or so 'Black Dagger Brotherhood' books, and yeah. Read them for yourself of course, but there is a lot to notice. It was a couple of years ago now, so they're not fresh in my mind, but I remember being very 👀👀👀 at a lot of the similarities, especially between Zsadist, Bella and Phury with Azriel, Elain and Lucien. The lovely @silverdreamscapes has posted about many of the parallels existing between each trio, though imo it goes even further than shipping.

But first, I would like to state for the record that I do not think having an inner beast or monster makes someone bad or evil. I do think lightsingers could be a race of faeries that A) are related in some way to the shadowsingers - witches? - with whom we are all hunky dory (so no hate from me until proven otherwise), B) may in fact be facing persecution over some sort of un/intentional misunderstanding and/or rewritten history, and C) that the library actually acts as a sanctuary for these persecuted beings, in addition to any other battered women, who are both vilified and attacked for nothing but their species. Of course I could always be wrong, but I am expecting a twist that diverges from the "truth" about lightsingers that Cassian gave us in ACOSF.

But I digress. I've forgotten a lot, but I do remember that there was a character with teal eyes, who had been cursed by a goddess to carry a monster within him... if lightsingers have an inner beast* - and two of our teal-eyed priestesses have been lightsingers - you can see where I'm going (and for some fabulous rundowns on the lightsinger theory, please see posts by @silverlinedeyes and @merymoonbeam).

As I have said before, I suspect that shadowsingers and lightsingers could be more similar than we know. I wouldn't be surprised if they both have the ability to lure, and both have a beast form/some sort of inner monster or being. Because the teal-eyed character, Rhage, carries his beast in a sort of living tattoo... and whose shadows have been described as appearing like twins to the tattoos on his chest? You betcha. It's Azriel, our favourite shadowsinger.

A corner of Azriel’s mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck like living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers. Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead, he had learned its language. - ACOFAS, chapter 7

As for Elain's potential powers, I'm all aboard the shapeshifter train (please see @wingedblooms for some brilliant theories), and I cannot wait to see what sort of light she can wield (if any, of course, but I do think she has been tied to it in a lot of ways). Can she Sing light and dark (light) to See what she must? Or to travel someplace very far away? I also wouldn't be surprised if Elain and her light/s act as an executioner for whatever Valg-type being exists in Prythian, as Yrene did with Erawan in KOA. I suspect that the King of Hybern may have been possessed in some way, and that Elain's role in assassinating him could have purified him such that he could die, thus beginning her parallels with Yrene.

As for which Fae are the oldest, I personally suspect that the Starborn Fae did found the land that would have become the Dusk Court, and that some may have travelled to Erilea, but I haven't looked into it enough to have quotes at the ready so I'll tag in @wingedblooms and @silverlinedeyes - or anyone else who wants to join in - because they have had more thoughts on this than I have. It seems that the Starborn faeries are different to the shifter faeries from Erilea, and that both ended up in Midgard thanks to Rigelus and his machinations (but as to which is the original fae species, if any, it hasn't been explicitly stated).

Rigelus chuckled again. “We shall get to that in a moment.” He went on, “Danika realized that the shifters are Fae.” Bryce blinked. “What?” “Not your kind of Fae, of course—your breed dwelled in a lovely, verdant land, rich with magic. If it’s of any interest to you, your Starborn bloodline specifically hailed from a small isle a few miles from the mainland. And while the mainland had all manner of climes, the isle existed in beautiful, near-permanent twilight. But only a select few in the entirety of your world could shift from their humanoid forms to animal ones. The Midgard shifters were Fae from a different planet. All the Fae in that world shared their form with an animal. The mer descended from them, too. Perhaps they once shared a world with your breed of Fae, but they had been alone on their planet for long enough to develop their own gifts.” “They don’t have pointed ears.” “Oh, we bred that out of them. It was gone within a few generations.” An isle of near-permanent twilight, the home world of her breed of Fae … A land of Dusk. - HOSAB, chapter 73

A few of my friends and I - @psychologynerd, @elrieldreamer and @ladynightcourt3 - think/hope that IF we get a crossover of sorts in Elain's book it may be to Erilea, in the past. @psychologynerd has previously pointed out that a pretty faerie with raw magic (which Elain has as a Made faerie - here and here) once visited Mistward before being invited to meet Maeve in Doranelle, never to be heard from again. It's also possibly significant that Elain has been linked with owls - check out @wingedblooms Blodeuwedd and Suriel theories for starters - and Maeve had a healer trapped in owl form at her beck and call (thanks @ladynightcourt3 for your help with the quotes).

“But,” Luca chattered on, “no one here has any exciting or rare abilities. Like shape-shifting into whatever form they want, or controlling fire”—her stomach clenched at that—“or oracular sight. We did have a female wander in with raw magic two years ago—she could do anything she wanted, summon any element, and she was here a week before Maeve called her to Doranelle and we never heard from her again. A shame—she was so pretty, too. But it’s the same here as it is everywhere else: a few people with a pathetic trace of elemental powers that are really only fun for farmers.” - HOF, chapter 11

“It also explains why Aelin reported an owl at Maeve’s side when they first met,” Nesryn said, gesturing to Yrene, whose brows bunched. Then Yrene blurted, “The owl must be the Fae form of a healer. Some healer of hers that she keeps close—as a bodyguard. Has let everyone believe to be some pet …” - TOD, chapter 65

“Speak freely, Connall,” Maeve said, her faint smile remaining. The barn owl perched on the back of her throne watched with solemn, unblinking eyes. “Let your brother know these words are your own and not of my command.” - KOA, chapter 8

Some pet... as Hunt suggested he was for Bryce?

“I’m sorry,” Hunt interrupted, “but are you implying that I was made by you two assholes? As some sort of pet?” He pointed to Thanatos, then to Apollion. “Not a pet,” Apollion said darkly. “A weapon.” He nodded to Bryce. “For her, whenever she might come along.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

A weapon, just like Elain becoming "the knife in the dark" to assassinate - and potentially purify the Valg from - the King of Hybern?

I've theorised before that Elain might have plant/earth related powers - which ties in well with her reaction to the Hewn City in ACOSF, and what we learnt about Sathia/Flynn's reaction to being on Avallen in HOFAS - and many of us have long thought she may have some sort of healing magic (here and here). So was the pretty faerie Elain?

I would combust.

Anyway, I hope I answered everything, and I'm SO sorry for this response taking literal months. If you do see this, my bad.

[creelkobblelaufeyson69]

Hopefully coming sooner than later (if my attention span didn’t suck balls)