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[elleloquently]

too little, never late [ 1 ] : ellie williams

" can you see me? i'm waiting for the right time

i can't read you but if you want, the pleasure's all mine "

series masterlist

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ellie williams x female reader | college au - best friend!ellie

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| a/n - here it is!! decided to abandon my lowercase thing for this fic, not sure why but it felt right lmao. comments, reblogs, and asks ab this are so encouraged and appreciated <3 excited ab this one, hope you guys are toooo | c/w - warnings for the entire series are listed in the masterlist. a bit of exposition here. reader is vaguely indicated to be girly i guess and closeted (sorry!!!) switching between past/present tense is very much on purpose / intended!!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

It was hard to pick your favorite season on campus.

During move in every year, at the end of summer, the air felt full of promise. The music was loud from passing by cars, the bars especially crowded during syllabus week.

Winter was pretty, too, with the string lights that adorned the town and the ice skating rink that was put up downtown. It was easy to blow dining dollars on the hot chocolate and donut truck that was always posted nearby.

There was spring, when all of the campus greenery started to bloom. It felt like tradition for all classes to be skipped on that first warm day every year, the campus green filled with hammocks and picnic blankets.

But fall.

Campus felt like it was made for fall.

The sun was still warm, but the leaves were turning. It was the perfect time, the colors still bright and vivid, the brief window before they faded to brown.

Pumpkins would be placed strategically within the decorative flower gardens, a last chance for beauty and atmosphere before everything died for the winter. Come October, the statue of the university mascot would be decorated in a different costume each week, leading up to Halloween.

September was just a little bit perfect.

The warmth from summer still lingered, the promise and anticipation of the upcoming semester evident in the atmosphere. Still, there was an indication of fall. The trees were green and yellow and orange and some strange colors in between. People were already planning their Halloween costumes. Something about the sunshine this time of year always felt different. Looked a little more beautiful, maybe.

"It looks like the early 2000's here. On this street," You mumbled, stepping carefully over the curb as you gripped tighter onto the brown paper bag in your arms.

"The fuck does that mean?" Your best friend snorted from beside you, shooting you a sidelong glance.

Your eyebrows knit together immediately as you catch Ellie's glance, her pale green eyes giving you a once over. Still, you defended your observation.

"It looks like a trick or treating street," you mumbled, your sight following along the sidewalk. Leaves were already starting to fall, littering the sidewalk.

"Like how it would look when you were a kid. Reminds me of Halloweentown," you explained lightly, continuing to walk back to campus.

Paper grocery bags in hand, you were making the short journey back to campus after venturing into town. Ellie would have driven, easily, but you always preferred the walk. It was only a matter of minutes, anyway. Besides, parking downtown on a Sunday was shitty to navigate.

You didn't mind living in a college town, as opposed to some universities that existed in the middle of a big city. After growing up in the small town of Jackson, you didn't mind being in a bubble.

"Good movie," Ellie muttered, seemingly more concentrated on crossing the final busy road before you would be back on the campus pathing.

It did remind you of Halloweentown, stupidly enough. It was the first thing you had said several years ago, when yourself and Ellie had stepped off of the school bus and saw a college campus in real life for the first time.

It had been a school field trip during the fall of sophomore year of highschool. Chaperoned by several teachers and a few worrisome parents, the school had organized a weekend long college tour, an attempt at getting students excited about higher education.

Back then, you had felt smitten with the university for stupid, insignificant reasons. The aesthetic being one of them, though you would be hard pressed to deny the fact that the way in which campus looked definitely played a part in your deciding factor. The drive-in movie theater that was five minutes away from campus was a nice selling point, too.

Still, it had felt cool at the time, learning about everything that the possibility of college had to offer.

Choir was still a thing in college, who knew? And you could major in art? Your chosen extracurriculars during that time period had been just that. You were in the high school choir, and Ellie had joined the art club. You had considered joining the art club too, just because you were jealous. At the end of the year, they got to go on a trip to some cool place with a lot of museums.

You never did end up joining, though, and had been unreasonably pissed when Ellie had been gone for two days, out of state. You got your payback the next year, when the choir had gotten to go to Disney and Ellie was left in Jackson, waiting for you to come home.

Now, art was just a hobby for Ellie, and the idea of auditioning to join a college choir felt laughable. Even so, when the time came to start seriously thinking about the idea of college, Ellie couldn't quite shake the memory of how everything in her had lit up at the sight of the university planetarium when she was younger. Soon after, Ellie had learned about astrophysics.

You hadn't planned to attend the same college, but it was certainly a perk. The small things that caught your interest during that first college tour had turned into a real curiosity once junior year of highschool had hit. Turns out, the school had a lot of really good programs. The departments for your desired majors were highly rated. Tuition rates were good, which was even better. Besides. Campus was gorgeous.

You had started imagining it, thinking about it, whispering about the possibility during late night sleepovers. When it was decision season, you were both on edge. It's not like you were applying to an Ivy, but it was the future. Who wouldn't be a little freaked out? The idea of one of you getting in and not the other was humiliating and nerve wracking.

It was thrilling, then, tearing open your letters together with shaky hands in the privacy of Ellie's bedroom. It had been a damn near stealth mission trying to get to the mail before your parents or Joel got to it first.

Joel was more easy going, attempting to hide his concern and curiosity between casual questions and glances, knowing a letter should have been arriving any day. Your parents, on the other hand, had been hounding you relentlessly. But yourself and Ellie wanted the moment to yourselves, alone. So that's what you had done.

You had checked the mail multiple times a day, your heart dropping to your stomach once you finally received the letter. Instantly it was shoved into your overnight bag before you had peddled to Ellie's, your bike wheels turning faster than ever before.

Ellie had looked like a kid again when you had opened the letters, shrieking and falling back onto her bed as you clutched each other's hands, the relief palpable as you read that you were both accepted.

"We should watch it," you suggest, turning your head. Your gaze fixed upon Ellie, focused on the strand of hair that falls over her face. Her hands are full, so she halfheartedly attempts to blow it away.

"Huh? Yeah, sure," Ellie replied, appearing as though she doesn't really know what she's replying to.

Someone on a skateboard is zipping by, their trail quick and unpredictable. You don't notice that you're nearly in their path, your focus on Ellie. Ellie nudges you with her elbow, pressing you out of the way.

"Wait, can't. There's some guest speaker lecture tonight and Dina gets extra credit for one of her classes if she.. Asshole," Ellie cuts herself off, mumbling under her breath. She glared at the inconsiderate skater, moving closer to your side.

"-If she goes to it. I promised I'd go with her," Ellie finished, adjusting her grip on the paper bag in her hands.

The bag crinkles as Ellie's hands grip onto it tighter. It was nearly stuffed to the brim, and the one that you were holding onto wasn't any different. You were slightly worried that they would split and rip before you even made it back to your apartment.

The grocery shop had been necessary, but the items were not. Yourself and Ellie had ventured to the Natural Foods store downtown, throwing any item that looked cool or weird into the cart without a second thought. It was the type of store that would still require you to go to a real grocery store after the fact, leaving you lacking despite the money you had already spent.

"Oh, right. I forgot that it was tonight. What's the lecture about?" You questioned, feeling both totally fine and not fine at all at Ellie's response.

"No clue," Ellie grinned, shaking her head slightly. "Friend of the year. I'm not even the one getting extra credit."

A huff of laughter falls from your lips as you spare a glance at Ellie, not allowing your gaze to linger. It was always so easy to fall into step together, like the two of you were naturally in sync.

"You're coming, right?" Ellie asked then, drawing a shrug out of you.

"Umm, I'm not really sure. I still really need to like, study and stuff. Plus, when Dina told me about it, I didn't want to just assume that I wa-"

"I just assumed you would be going," Ellie clarified, her words coming out a little too quickly. "I mean, we all did."

You pretended to think about it for a moment, but you already knew that you would give in.

Attending some special event lecture wasn't exactly your ideal Sunday evening. You spent enough hours of your week crammed into a lecture hall already, fidgeting in your seat and watching the seconds tick by on a clock while simultaneously rushing to take notes. Besides, you really did have to study. And you didn't even know what the event was for, or what the lecture was about.

But Ellie would be there. And your other friends. And you always did have some weird thing about missing out. Even if it was just a lecture.

"I'll go," You said decidedly, barely catching Ellie's gaze before she pulled her eyes away from your own.

As your apartment building came into view, you found your steps quickening. The walk had been nice, but you knew that you were both sick of carrying the bags by now.

Your apartment was one that belonged to the university. Since it was a campus apartment building, it wasn't quite as great as the others around town. They were essentially glorified dorms. But financial aid had paid for the majority of it, so you wouldn't complain. Or, just not often, at least.

"Cool," Ellie mumbled, her posture relaxing a little.

In an instant, Ellie's hand is reaching out to the bag that you're holding as soon as a small tear forms at the bottom of the brown paper.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

"We need to leave soon."

"I know."

"We really need to leave soon."

"I know," Ellie grumbled, a soft huff escaping her. She turned over in your bed, eyeing you with an expression that could only be described as a slight glare.

You met her eyes from where you were sat at your desk, twisted around in your chair to look at her. Ellie was laying in your bed, with her head on your pillow and your throw blanket wrapped haphazardly around her. It wasn't a new sight in the slightest, and neither was the uncomfortable feeling that it prompted in the pit of your stomach.

You confused it with annoyance, sometimes. Or discomfort.

Even so, it was normal for the two of you to share a sleeping space, or to feel just as at home in the other person's bed. After all, you had been best friends for years now.

There had only been a brief period when it had been weird, only because Ellie had made it so.

It had been junior year of highschool. Ellie had dated a girl for a couple of months, and promptly stopped sharing the bed with you during sleepovers. It had been annoying at the time, and completely ridiculous. You tended to get defensive about it, insisting that it was always normal for the two of you to share a bed.

Your arguments were unwavering, because why was it suddenly strange for two best friends to share a bed? Ellie would only grumble in response, insisting that it was different.

Their relationship didn't last long. The usual sleepover routine promptly resumed after.

"You literally only come over to nap," you accused, turning back towards your desk to glance in your mirror.

"Shut up. That's not true," Ellie huffs defensively. She sits up as if to prove her point, shoving your favorite stuffed animal away from her. You catch the action in your mirror, an automatic frown pulling your lips downward.

"What else am I supposed to do? You take forever anyway, Jesus," Ellie continued, and the action of mumbling her defenses under her breath seems to be more for herself than for your sake.

"You could get ready, too," you suggest, only because you know that it would annoy her further.

"I am ready?" Ellie's eyebrows knit together, her gaze fixed upon your reflection in the mirror. She looks confused instead of irritated, and you feel just a little guilty. If you were closer to her, you would attempt to swipe away her slight frown with your thumb.

"I'm kidding," you soften, because it was impossible not to around your best friend. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, and the smile that you offer her is small. It's still hot outside, but Ellie is wearing a gray hoodie that you're almost certain she will never let go of.

"Are you gonna be too warm?" Your gaze flicks around the items cluttering your desk before you shift in your chair again, giving Ellie a once over.

Ellie shakes her head, rolling her eyes despite the way in which the corners of her lips faintly twitch upwards. "I'll be fine. Those lecture halls are always cold as shit, anyway."

Ellie's response raises a good point, so you're quickly moving away from your desk and towards your closet instead. Ellie opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of a text tone coming from your phone interrupts her.

"Check it please," you instruct in a mutter, rifling through your cardigans and hoodies.

Ellie automatically obliges, pulling herself away from your bed and carefully moving towards your desk to retrieve your phone. "Dina wants to know if we're meeting up at the event or before... Why the hell is she texting you?"

"Why wouldn't she be texting me?" Your response is immediate as you frown at a sweatshirt. It's faded and worn, but that almost made it better. You had gotten it as a souvenir from a planetarium trip with Ellie and Joel.

Ellie registers the change in your tone instantly, glancing at you instead of at your phone. "No, I mean- Did you even tell her that you were going?"

"You said everyone assumed-"

"But you never confirmed-"

"She probably just knows we're together." You turned to face Ellie, shooting her a pointed look while holding the sweatshirt against your chest.

Apparently, Ellie wasn't great about answering texts. That wasn't your experience, but you had heard Jesse and Dina complain about it enough times to assume. "Have you even bothered to check your phone?" 

"Shit," Ellie mumbled, reaching to fish her phone out from the pocket of her jeans. She hadn't checked her phone in a few hours, probably. The look that crosses Ellie's features though, indicated that Dina hadn't even bothered to reach out to her first.

Your lips quirked upwards as you watched her, rolling your eyes. "Just tell her we'll meet them there." You turn back towards your closet, contemplating your options.

Ellie's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she shakes her head, turning her attention back to your phone. Her own phone is replaced back into her pocket before she slides into your desk chair, grabbing your phone carefully in her grasp. The screen lights up, flashing Ellie with a picture of your lock screen.

The picture was just a little blurry. Dina had been the one to take it. You all had gone to a concert about a year ago, which gives reason to the dark background of the picture. You were grinning wildly, Ellie's arm slung around your shoulders as she wrinkled her nose at the camera.

Ellie simply looked at the photo for a moment, before remembering why she was even holding your phone in the first place. You hear Ellie swear under her breath, but you don't bother to look this time.

It was muscle memory as Ellie entered your password, unlocking your phone. She navigated her way to your messages with Dina, her fingers pausing briefly on the screen before she typed.

you

we'll meet you there

Ellie thinks for a moment, her lips twitching briefly as she added an additional text, an obvious indicator to Dina that it was not you that was responding, but Ellie.

you

dick

Your phone sounds again as Ellie is still holding it, the response from Dina being immediate.

dina ✩

you never answer your phone!!!

Ellie scoffs, but can't suppress the grin that appears on her lips at Dina instantly knowing that it was her. Ellie's next response is a quick one.

you

🖕

dina ✩

🫶

"What are you doing?" Ellie questioned, tearing her eyes away from your phone as you draw her attention once more.

You paused momentarily, holding the strap of your bag in your hand. "I'm gonna take my notes," You admitted, chucking the sweatshirt at Ellie before stepping towards your desk. "I wasn't joking. I like... Really need to study."

Ellie clumsily caught the sweatshirt with her free hand, snorting at your response. "Bullshit."

"It's not," you denied, rolling your eyes. Ellie's gaze followed your hands as you rifled through binders and books on your desk, fingers dancing around cosmetic products that were also currently littering your desk.

Ellie gently sat your phone down, reaching for a bottle of nail polish. The color was familiar, as it was the one you were currently wearing. You had painted them just a few days ago. Ellie knew because she had been with you, and the nail of her pinky finger was painted the same color to prove it.

Ellie never really painted her nails by her own volition, but she usually let you paint them whenever you had asked. The color was a bit glittery this time, and Ellie opted for a pinky.

"So should I say that we're gonna be late, or?" Ellie questioned, her eyebrows raising slightly as she continued to watch you.

"We're not. I'm ready, see?" You pull a textbook away from the pile, waving it at Ellie. She swatted at the book, rolling her eyes in response. It was a habit she never seemed to shake, one that you seemed to mirror quite often.

It's a cue when you shove your textbook into your bag, and Ellie pushed out an exhale. "Yeah yeah, I see," she mumbles, standing up from the desk chair.

The sweatshirt is placed back into your hands after you hoist the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, your smile nearly impossible to bite back at Ellie's mumbling.

"Let's go though, before we actually are late. Seriously, Ellie. You take forever to get ready." Your tone is dry but the amusement at your own joke is evident by your expression.

Ellie practically scowls, reaching out to swat at you once more. "You're the worst, you know that?"

Ellie's half hearted movement is easily dodged, and you couldn't decide between feigning offense or giving her a hard time.

"You love me," you decided to say, and that seemingly shuts Ellie up.

Ellie eyed you for a moment, but her response lacks any weight. "Whatever. Don't forget your dumb key again."

"Oh my G- That was one time," you defended, leaving Ellie to trail after you as you turned on your heel, an indication of your exit.

"Yeah, one time too many." Ellie's voice lowered slightly as you both stepped into the hallway, turning around the corner and heading for the elevator. "You called me at almost like, two in the morning."

You nearly winced at Ellie's words, an awkward grimace-like-smile appearing on your face. She was right, anyway. But it had only been one time.

It was towards the end of the spring semester last year. Of course, you hadn't remembered your key until it was too late, arriving at your door after a night out with Dina without any way to get inside.

Instinctively, you had called Ellie. It had been late and you were humiliated, not wanting to bother anyone in your building until morning. Ellie had shown up for you in under fifteen minutes, not even pretending to be annoyed because she could tell by your voice on the phone that you had felt awful.

The impromptu sleepover had been nice, though. Carefully spaced apart in Ellie's bed, the two of you had scrolled through your photos and videos dating back to the first year that you had met until you had eventually fallen asleep, phones dropping limply against the blankets.

"Shut up," you mumbled weakly, face warming slightly at the memory of your embarrassment. "We had fun that night."

"Yeah, we did," Ellie relents with a grin.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

It had taken nearly twenty minutes to walk to the building that the event was being held in. By the time you had actually made it, the sky was growing dark.

You weren't entirely familiar with the building. You knew that most of Dina's classes were held here though, so you could only assume that the event had something to do with that. It would make sense, considering the whole extra credit ordeal.

You were slightly anxious that the two of you actually were going to be late, but the sight of a crowd in the lobby instantly eased your worries.

You spotted Jesse first, due to his height.

"There." You nudged Ellie's arm with your own, causing her to follow your gaze. Ellie nodded and so you grasped the sleeve of her hoodie, leading her towards your friends.

Dina soon came into view, as well as someone else that you didn't recognize.

"You guys are the best," Dina gushed instantly, throwing her arms around yourself and Ellie in greeting.

"You didn't say that to me when I got here," Jesse frowned, raising an eyebrow at Dina once she pulled away.

"Oh please." Dina rolls her eyes, but it's lighthearted. "You're the best for driving me," she tells her boyfriend. Jesse laughs at her easy response, shaking his head before bumping his fist against Ellie's shoulder in greeting.

Ellie wrinkled her nose, jerking her shoulder away from Jesse. It was crazy how such tiny things could manage to transport you back through time.

It almost felt like the beat of your heart faltered once Ellie met your gaze, her expression instantly changing into an amused smile instead.

She had these mannerisms that were so Ellie, unchanging despite the time that had passed. You had tried to describe it to her before, but she just didn't get it.

Even so, the way that she looked at you now, as though you were both a part of some inside joke or something, threw you back to freshman year of high school.

That had been the year that the two of you had met.

Since Jackson was a relatively small town, having a new kid start in your class wasn't exactly a frequent thing. Whenever it did happen, it always ended the same way. Within a week, the new kid would always end up being integrated into an already existing group, the number of friends associated with each other being more than you would certainly ever have in a lifetime.

It was a consistent track record, so you almost didn't think anything of it when an unfamiliar girl was assigned to sit next to you in biology.

You had been feeling pretty bleak about starting high school. The friends that you had been closest to throughout middle school had changed over the summer. There was nothing wrong with the concept in general, but it hadn't been a good type of change.

Starting freshman year with little to no friends didn't exactly give you the most optimistic start.

But then, entered Ellie.

Auburn hair, shuffling feet, and a book bag adorned with space themed pins.

You had told yourself it was your anxiety, the way in which your cheeks had burned when Ellie had been instructed to take the empty seat next to you. Admittedly, you had been a little shy, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead without sparing her a glance. But then, you were worried about seeming rude. On the other hand, the probability of a potential new friend was slim. You knew how these things usually went.

It was stupid, really, the thing that made you even speak to her in the first place. But you were grateful for it.

While reaching for a fallen pencil under the table, your eyes had drifted to Ellie's shoes, a pair of red Converse. It's not like it was an uncommon choice, but something about it had caused you to feel a flicker of camaraderie. You had been wearing Converse too, only in black.

As you straightened up in your chair, pencil in hand, you found the words leaving your mouth before you could think it over.

"I like your shoes," you had said, seemingly catching Ellie slightly off guard.

She had only blinked at you for a moment before glancing down at her shoes, which led her to notice your own. "Oh, hey. I like yours too," Ellie had responded.

You didn't normally just start conversations like that, but Ellie wouldn't have known any better at the time.

Hushed conversations at your shared table in the back of the science classroom turned into seeking each other out in the cafeteria, which turned into begging for sleepovers on the weekend.

You learned a lot about the girl that had moved from Boston to Jackson, and she had learned a lot about you, too.

The two of you were quickly inseparable.

You would scrounge up whatever coins you could find, hauling them to the arcade at the nearest mall. Ellie had begged Joel for a bike for Christmas, purely so she could ride around town with you. You would press bandaids on each other's knees, scraped up from whenever you laughed entirely too hard and closed your eyes while steering, or from Ellie trying to knock you off of your bike as a joke, causing her to internally panic when she had actually succeeded.

The entirety of your friendship was captured in photo strips and homemade birthday cards. The first time you had ever used the photo booth at the arcade, all of the photos came out looking nearly identical because you couldn't stop grinning to make any other expression or pose. For the final photo, you had managed to throw up a peace sign, prompting Ellie to stick up her middle finger at the camera.

Luckily, the photo had been snapped before you gasped, your eyes widening at Ellie. It wasn't a big deal in the slightest, but your parents were... Strict. Your sleepovers typically happened at Ellie and Joel's.

You had whined at Ellie, complaining that there was no way that you could hang up the photos in your room now. Ellie tore the bottom photo off in response, keeping the middle finger picture for herself and leaving you with the rest. You had both hung them up in your rooms.

Joel was essentially another parent to you. He adored you, evident in the way in which he had called you sweetheart, prompting a bewildered expression from Ellie and a delayed moment of her howling with laughter. But really, he adored the way in which Ellie had so quickly found a friend after the move, and how her face always lit up whenever she talked about you. He didn't even mind that she seemed to spend more time on her phone, always knowing that it was you that she was texting. 

Despite how comfortable you always found it to be at Ellie and Joel's house, there wasn't the exact level of comfortability at your own. There were just a few things that your parents didn't know about Ellie. But that was okay. Anything to keep up the sleepovers, to keep up your parents allowing Ellie to join you on weekend trips and vacations.

When Ellie's birthday had rolled around in the spring, the pressure was on. It's not like you had much money to even spend at that age, but in the span of a few months, Ellie had quickly become the most important person in your life. You wanted to do something nice for her, even if your realistic capabilities didn't exactly match your personal standards.

The gift ended up being a small pack of space pins, new ones to add to her collection. A few of them were designed to look like different planets, while one of them looked like a little rocket. In addition to the pins, you had made Ellie a birthday card, the colored construction paper being filled with sappy paragraphs of friendship, memories, and promises.

Years later, Ellie obviously no longer used the same bag from freshman year of high school. She still had the pins, though, and they were attached to the bag that she used for school now.

Jesse's voice gained your attention, and Ellie ignored the twinge of disappointment that she felt when your smile was pulled away from her, and instead directed towards the stranger that Jesse was now introducing the both of you to.

Ellie attempted to listen, focusing her attention on the stranger, Connor. She had heard Jesse briefly mention him before in passing, but it never seemed like they were actually friends. They had met the previous year, and shared a class together now. That was the extent of Ellie's knowledge.

"Hey," Ellie mumbled with a slight nod, admittedly more focused on the way in which you were fidgeting with the strap of your bag that was over your shoulder.

"Are you good?" Dina questioned, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she watched you at Ellie's side.

You nodded, just barely getting to respond before suddenly Connor was addressing you.

"Where are you coming from?" Connor asked, focusing his eyes on you.

"What?" You were a little caught off guard, not grasping the meaning of his question.

"Where are you coming from?"

"Oh. Um, my apartment?" You blinked at him, before realizing his curiosity must've been piqued by your bag. "Oh. No, I just like... Need to study," you responded, your words fumbled and awkward.

"Dedicated to your classes, I respect that," Connor responded, his smile growing slightly.

Ellie resisted the urge to scoff. Dedicated to your classes? Yeah, maybe. Knowing that you'd have a stomach ache due to anxiety all night if you didn't at least attempt to study? That was more likely.

You mumbled something in response, a forced laugh exiting your lips as Jesse and Dina genuinely laughed. They knew you well enough, anyway. They knew your effort was practically a futile one.

When you looked at Ellie, she made a face that indicated that she wanted to roll her eyes, but was holding back. It almost made you laugh, too.

The light conversations continued as the five of you made your way into the auditorium once the doors had finally opened. The room was actually pretty full, and Ellie couldn't help but wonder how many people were actually interested in the event, and how many had shown up because they shared a major with Dina and were also offered extra credit.

"I've heard this speaker before, actually. He's really good. Even if the content matter isn't the most... Interesting, he makes it engaging, at least," Connor said as you had walked through the rows of seats.

When Connor talked, it felt as though he was performing instead of participating in the conversation. It was almost unsettling, how his expression never faltered. Or maybe he was fine. Maybe Ellie was just tired and being judgmental. 

Jesse and Dina had agreed to sit in the back, so that’s where you all had gone. 

“When? Did you listen to him speak before, I mean?” 

Ellie’s head nearly snapped in your direction as you posed your question, her eyebrows drawing together. She didn’t really know why she was surprised that you were participating in the conversation, but she was. 

“It’s a yearly thing, right?” Jesse answers on behalf of Connor, glancing at him to confirm the answer. Connor nodded, and then you did, too. 

“Is it the same thing every time?” Your voice sounds again, another question as you had glanced between Jesse and Connor. 

“A… Sort of variation of it, I guess? But I swear, you won’t hate it. If you can spare a few seconds throughout your studying,” Connor joked, his eyebrow twitching upwards as he met your gaze. 

The corners of your lips faintly twitched before you tilted your head to look at Ellie, making instant eye contact. The action, however small, soothed whatever weird thoughts had started floating around Ellie’s head within the last two minutes. 

"Even if it's the most boring hour of my life, it's worth the damn extra credit," Dina concluded, causing a snort of laughter from Jesse.

"That's my intellectual," Jesse teased, earning a laugh from you and a groan from Ellie. Dina lightly shoved at his arm, but let him lace his fingers with her own anyway.

The interaction managed to hold Ellie's attention for a moment, until she felt you move away from her side.

The group of five had been standing in the aisle, lingering by a group of seats. You had moved to sit down though, evidently more seriously concerned with glancing over your textbook than Ellie had actually assumed. Ellie was going to turn back to Dina and Jesse and make some smart remark, until she noticed Connor moving to sit down, too.

Ellie's eyebrows practically furrowed as her eyes followed Connor's movements. It looked like he was intending on sitting down next to you, which didn't make sense. Why would he sit next to someone he had just met, like, five minutes ago? Jesse was right there, why wouldn't Connor wait to sit next to him? Or go find his own damn seat, somewhere else?

Ellie watched for a split second, tuning out the rest of Jesse and Dina's banter. No, yeah. Connor was definitely trying to sit next to you. Which didn't make sense. Right? Who does that?

"What are you studying for, anyway?" Connor was casually moving towards your seat, looking over you curiously.

"Uh, I was supposed to have an exam at the end of last week but the professor ended up being sick so... Now I have it tomorrow and I'm totally- Oh, sorry. It's for my-"

Ellie's feet are carrying her, rushed and fumbling as she moves through the aisle. She nearly tripped over the seats, passing Connor and immediately settling into the seat next to you. You cut off your own words as Ellie sat next to you, a smile replacing your previous expression.

"You got it," Ellie assured you softly, pretending Connor wasn't still looking at you.

"Yeah, right. You know I'm shit at exams. I always have been," you complained, chewing anxiously at your bottom lip. People were still filing into the auditorium, the seats filling up surprisingly quickly.

"Yeah, you have been," Ellie agreed, grinning when your jaw dropped at her. "But. You haven't managed to fail anything, either. Yet."

"Ellie," you groaned softly, exasperated and amused all at once. Ellie could tell.

"Bad test taker?" Connor muses, and Ellie's expression faltered. Jesus.

"Anxious test taker," you correct lightly.

Connor sat down then, in the seat next to Ellie. She almost feels as though she briefly goes rigid, and nearly wanted to whirl around to Jesse and tell him to get his friend. She also wants to tell you that you don't have to keep answering his questions, based on the way in which you're twisting your fingers in your lap and your gaze is flicking around.

"Understandable," Connor replied, and Ellie sat back in her chair. Understandable. What time was this thing supposed to start, anyway?

Jesse and Dina sat down then, with Jesse next to Connor and Dina at the end. The seating arrangement felt weird. It was uncomfortable, and Ellie began to fidget with her fingers in her lap. It was normally always just the four of them, but now there was some Connor separating them. Ellie tried to catch Dina or maybe Jesse's eyes, but they weren't looking, too caught up in their own conversation.

"What do you study?" Connor was talking past Ellie, directing his words at you.

Ellie took a small breath while you answered, mentally scolding herself for being so fucking weird. This was not a big deal. It was really, literally fine. Ellie was just tired, that's why she was feeling off. She was just tired. And the fact that a conversation was taking place over her wasn't helping.

"What do you study?" Ellie's gaze flickered in your direction as you spoke, before fixing back upon her Converse.

"B-"

You quickly cut Connor off, an assumptious expression appearing on your features. "Business?"

Ellie could tell even by your tone that you were trying not to roll your eyes.

Connor laughed, shaking his head. He leaned forward in his seat to get a better look at you, past Ellie. "Biology, actually."

"Oh. Huh. That's cool."

You looked surprised. Pleasantly surprised, maybe, if Ellie was willing to admit it to herself.

You stayed quiet though, because the auditorium lights started to dim, prompting the talking throughout the room to grow hushed.

Showing up had been a favor for Dina, so Ellie didn't feel too guilty about allowing her thoughts to wander. She tried, though, to focus on the lecture, because she didn't exactly like the direction in which her thoughts were wandering in.

Ellie focused partly on the speaker, and partly on the way in which you were sharing the armrest of the auditorium chair with her, your bare arm pressed against the sleeve of her hoodie. It was cold in the room, like Ellie had predicated, but your sweatshirt remained in your lap, under your textbook.

The contact was small and casual, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Ellie's gaze flickered between the stage and your arm next to hers. Even from the brief contact, Ellie wondered if her hoodie would smell like your perfume later. Usually, her clothes always did.

You were seemingly focused on the speaker, though your textbook remained open on your lap. Occasionally you would glance down for a few moments, your fingers tracing over the paragraphs before you would look up once more. Ellie wasn't watching you, necessarily, but she could see you from out of the corner of her eye. Besides, she knew your habits.

It was about twenty minutes before Connor shifted in his seat, causing Ellie to stiffen. He leaned in close to Ellie's seat, but she knew instantly that it was so he could get closer to you.

"Do you have a pen? Or a pencil, or something?" Connor's voice was low and quiet, and Ellie attempted to stare straight ahead at the stage, as though he wasn't bordering a little too closely into her personal space.

You hesitated for only a second before leaning over to rummage through your bag, wordlessly passing a mechanical pencil around Ellie, handing it to Connor. Ellie spares a glance at you, noting the obvious confusion in your expression. Connor's arm is carefully reaching over then, grasping the corner of your textbook and pulling it off of your lap and towards himself.

Your eyebrows raised and your lips parted, almost as though you're going to mumble words in protest. You faltered at the sight of Connor scribbling something on one of the pages, any potential words failing you.

Jesse and Dina were completely oblivious. Ellie forced her gaze away, swallowing harshly.

When your textbook was returned to your lap, yourself and Ellie both looked down at the new markings on the page. Ellie's eyebrows slowly drew together at the sight of it.

A phone number. Connor had written his phone number.

It was bold. Stupidly annoying, and overbearing, Ellie thought. She felt a little too warm, suddenly, and maybe it wasn't as cold in the auditorium as she had originally thought. She briefly contemplated shedding her hoodie, but she didn't want to draw any attention to herself by moving around.

Ellie watched as you stared down at the written phone number. The exhale you released was shaky, and Ellie felt freakish for noticing the detail.

She couldn't tell, however, if you were flattered or annoyed. You always did tend to get weird whenever a guy showed any sort of interest in you. Refused to talk about it, like you were embarrassed or something. Rarely ever followed up on it, too.

You were always like that. It made Ellie paranoid. Paranoid that the feelings she had been harboring for longer than she would like to admit were obvious, paranoid that one of these days, you were going to give her some pathetic speech in an attempt to let her down easy.

Still, Ellie couldn't help the way in which her gaze drifted to Connor. Her eyes flickered over his features as she bit the inside of her cheek. You had dated before, sure. But the relationships were always few and far between, and they never really lasted long.

Ellie just figured you were avoidant. Or picky. Maybe both.

Was he the type of guy you would even be into?

Ellie swore under her breath, her eyes dragging back to focus upon the stage, upon the not really sure whatever the hell this guy was going on about but they had all shown up to support Dina's effort for extra credit lecture.

The hour felt slow with Connor in the seat next to Ellie, his phone number now etched onto the page of your textbook. Ellie wanted to erase it. Instead, she anchored her thoughts on the feeling of your arms pressed together.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

The sky was fully dark by the time that the event had ended, and Ellie walked you back to your apartment. She didn't need to, but she always did. She was a good friend like that.

Your face felt a little warm, the knowledge of Connor's phone number on the page causing your textbook to feel more weighted in your bag.

As September progressed, it continued to grow colder at night. The wind pushed leaves across the sidewalk, the sound comforting during the day but bordering on eerie once it was night. You were wearing your sweatshirt now.

"You gonna text him?" Ellie asked, nearly wincing as the words left her lips. They sounded so awkward. Despite all of your years of friendship, the two of you had never seemed to quite get a grip on talking about relationships, or girls or boys or whatever. It always felt a little unnatural, which didn't necessarily suit your dynamic.

"Who? Connor?"

"Yeah. Connor."

"Why would I text him?" You held the door open for Ellie, the two of you stepping into your apartment building. It wasn't even very late, but it was quiet. Your steps seemed to echo throughout the hallway.

"Because he gave you his phone number?" Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes as she jabbed the button for the elevator.

"I don't know why he did that," you mumbled.

You really didn't know why he would do that. Well, you could assume. But it still didn't make sense. It made you feel a little gross, for some reason, even though he had been perfectly polite. And the fact that it made you feel gross, made you feel guilty in turn.

"Besides. I'm like... Too busy. With class, and work. And... Hanging out with you," you added, stepping into the elevator after Ellie.

"You are so full of it," Ellie grinned, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up. It's our last year, we need to soak it in before it's over. Like, make memories and stuff."

"Last ye- Jesus. You're already thinking about that?"

"It's almost over," you pointed out, shooting Ellie a sideways glance.

"It's September. Holy shit. You're already worried about that?"

"Ellie-"

"I know," Ellie relented instantly, evidently wanting to be spared the sentimental, nostalgic spiel for the night. Besides, she did somewhat have a point. Maybe you were jumping the gun, a little. You couldn't exactly help it, though. You were sentimental to your core, rooted and grown with nostalgia for as long as you could remember.

"But you have plenty of memories with me. You do realize that, right?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, and you purposely bumped into Ellie as you exited from the elevator, stepping onto your floor.

"Whatever. I don't care. I don't want to text him, alright? I just... don't." You felt a little sick to your stomach, and you couldn't figure out if it was because you were trying to justify it to Ellie or to yourself.

"But wh-"

"If you're so concerned about it, why don't you text him?" You interrupted, essentially joking in response but your tone had come out just a little too defensive.

"Ha. Yeah right," Ellie mumbled, slowing to a stop as you reached your door.

"I'm glad I went tonight," You said then, attempting to change the subject.

You catch Ellie's quick expression, and you can only assume that she's instantly wondering if you will text Connor after all. "I love getting to hang out with you," you clarified, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. "And Dina. And Jesse."

Ellie shook her head, just barely managing to conceal her grin. "God, you're a sap. You're no better than you were when you were fifteen, you know that?"

"Don't care. Look, are you gonna stay?"

"Stay? I don't have anything with me. Plus, I thought you were supposed to be studying tonight."

You pretended not to be disappointed, but you were. Honestly, you were a sap. Especially when it came to Ellie. You couldn't help how much you loved being around her. When you were younger, your parents warned you about dedicating all of your time to only just one friend, but it had only continued to prove to be worth it. You were completely enamored with Ellie.

You told yourself it was platonic. You always told yourself it was platonic.

Only your journal knew otherwise.

"Fine. Go, since you can't wait to get away from me." Your words were dry but you grinned at Ellie, fumbling with your key to unlock the door.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Ellie stepped away once your door was unlocked, retrieving her own keys from her pocket. "Good luck tomorrow, though. Lunch after?"

"Yeah, definitely," you breathed out, grateful to have something to look forward to following your exam. "Text me when you get back safe. Love you," you called after Ellie once she was halfway down the hallway.

Ellie gave you a brief thumbs up in response.

Upon entering your apartment, you flipped on your lights and kicked off your shoes, carefully tucking them next to the door. After slinging the strap of your bag over a chair, you were already reaching into your pocket for your phone.

you

so you're really not staying

ellie <3

???

ellie <3

If I leave my car here overnight again I'll get another ticket

you

just wanted to hang out

ellie <3

Clingy

you

i know you are

you

i can see you in the parking lot 😁

ellie <3

🤨

ellie <3

On my way! back up

ellie <3

Fuck

ellie <3

On my way!

ellie <3

Omw jfc pack a bag

you

<<33 gimme 5 min

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

[ tags : ]

@mmmil3na @elliescoolerwife @fortune777 @boobdrug @spamfromali @seraphicsentences @muthafuckingstargirl @bready101

[rhaenyratargcryen]

i want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight | logan howlett/wolverine

masterlist ❈

summary: drifting from town to town and never lingering in one place for too long has served you well since you began to realize something might be...different, about you. you've never been able to put a finger on what exactly that difference is, until you end up at the same bar as a mysterious, albeit deeply captivating, stranger. author's note: this literally came from an idea of a reader that could share their own feelings through touch, which then snowballed into an arguably too long one shot (if i'm not careful, that's what i'm going to become known for hahaha) i recently rewatched x-men (2000) after seeing dp&w (twice) and haven't had time to rewatch the others. i know at the end of the first movie, logan leaves the school - so i feel like this would take place, hypothetically, either after he returns/before x2, or between x2 and x-men 3. idk it's not that deep seriously just imagine early 30-something year old hugh jackman's wolverine while you read this <3 kind of still a shithead, not yet entirely traumatized lol!!!

pairing: logan howlett/wolverine x f!reader word count: 10,353 (uhhhh hahaha next question) warnings/tags: pWp (with, y'all!), sloooow burn, user rhaenyratargcryen had to google everyone's powers multiple times just. be warned

18+/mdni i am sooooo serious and please don't repost with or without asking for permission. i'm not into that kind of thing, if you want to share pls reblog!!!!

title is from she wants revenge's "tear you apart"

It’s a Sunday, when Logan finds you. Or, you’d soon come to find, perhaps it was you who had been the one to find him.

You’ve grown accustomed to becoming a familiar face at every shitty bar in every small town your drifter lifestyle drags you to, and this hole-in-the-wall in the Hudson Valley that smells slightly of piss and even more of cigarettes is no different.

The motel down the street that you’d unpacked your menial possessions into is the perfect distance from the dive — you could walk home at the end of the night, and not worry you’d find yourself in trouble with a stranger. Well, the wrong kind of stranger.

Sitting at the end of the bar, you’re nursing your third drink in the fading light of the afternoon as it comes through the row of windows to your right when the light blinks out, abruptly, and you look up to find yourself face to face with a very ruggedly-handsome man with…mutton chops, you think? You snort. They haven’t been in style for centuries.

Your gaze drags across his face, down to his torso, then rests for a beat too long to be appropriate on the way his jeans sit low on his hips, a bit too tight on his thighs if he was to ask you. He stiffens under your wandering eye, watching you carefully as your attention returns to his — begrudgingly, considering he’s disturbing your peace — beautiful face.

He’s hot, you’ll give him that, but you try your best to glare and look unapproachable; it’s a Sunday and you’re drunk on bottom-shelf whiskey, trying desperately to communicate that you’re not quite in the mood for conversation with a stranger at the moment. 

This man will not take a fucking hint. 

He gestures to the seat directly to your right. “Mind if I sit here?”

You glance pointedly at the rest of the seats at the bar, which are all notably empty, but you say nothing and grunt your indifference. This guy doesn’t look the talkative type, but you really hope he isn’t looking for a chat. Luckily, he sits down silently and gestures to the bartender, who seems to recognize him and pours him a finger of whatever you’ve also been drinking.

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s picked up the glass and swirled the liquor around in it, but before he can take a swig, he opens his mouth with the glass practically pressed to it and mutters, “You know what you are?”

“That’s an odd fucking thing to say,” you remark, pulling your glass closer to you and closing both fists around it, turning to look directly at him. Your heart stutters as you watch the left side of his mouth curl slightly into a smirk. “Wanna explain to me what the fuck you mean by that, dude?”

The man grunts and throws back his whiskey, swallowing it in one go. Before you can get another word in, he lifts his left hand up, flexing his forearm, and you watch as three shiny, silver pieces of metal pierce through the skin between his knuckles with a sharp snikt sound.

“What the fuck,” you rasp, pressing a hand flat down on the bartop to push yourself up and away from him in the seat next to you, knocking your own drink over in the process. No one else in the bar seems fazed, like he comes in here and does this — whatever this is — often. He doesn’t move, doesn’t make an attempt to come closer to you than he is, and eventually your heartbeat calms down, and your flight response becomes a fight response. You bristle, a bit pissed off at what you read as an attempt to scare the shit out of you for fun.

“What’s your problem?”

“Ain’t got a problem, bub,” the man murmurs, leaning against the bar and grinning, the claws retracting. He wipes the backs on his knuckles off onto the thighs of his jeans, blood staining the denim red. “Was just trying to get you to do whatever it is you can do.”

You thank the bartender, who has dropped a rag in front of you to clean your spilled liquor and replaced your empty glass with a full one. 

“Sweetheart, I could smell you the second I stepped foot through that door. I haven’t seen you around here before, you new in town?”

Smell you? You’re about one more strange statement from him away from losing your goddamn mind. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate on what you mean by smell. Please.”

He leans closer to you, that smirk on his mouth a provocation, so close that you can practically taste the whiskey on his breath. “You ever heard of mutants, dollface?”

—————

Now, seeing as that wasn’t the kind of conversation you wanted to have in public, you had tried to push him — Logan, his name is, you learn — back by his chest, but the man was an immovable object. Probably a good thing you’d ultimately decided it wasn’t worth trying to hit him.

“Excuse me,” you’d uttered, slapping a twenty dollar bill down on the bar top and slipping out of your seat carefully, quickly realizing how drunk you really are. When you right yourself, you turn to him and angle your head to the door behind you.

“We can have this talk somewhere else, yeah?”

Logan had looked up at the bartender, muttered, “Add hers to my tab?” and palmed your money to give back to you, following you across the room. When you’d tried to object, Logan had held his hand up and told you your money wasn’t good here anymore.

Now, you lead him through the door to your room, stripping yourself of your jacket and kicking at the dirty laundry on the floor at the end of the bed at the same time.

“Want to tell me what the fuck that was all about? Do I know you or something?”

“No, sweetheart,” Logan says, unzipping his moto jacket and slipping his arms from the sleeves, revealing a crisp white t-shirt and biceps thicker than your neck. You subtly try to shake your head, snap your attention away from them, but he smirks, catching your eye. “You don’t know me. But I think you’re like me. We’re drawn to each other, you know. It’s like some sort of…beacon, a homing device. I was coming to the bar anyway. I knew what you were, second I saw you.”

“And you think I’m…also a, what, a mutant?”

“Not think. Know. You seriously can’t think of a single thing recently that might have felt a little, I don’t know, off? Can you see things you couldn’t before? Have you been hungrier? Felt more on edge?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying and failing to think of any big change, but you come up short. Shaking your head, you glance back up at him. “No. No, everything’s been the same. I’ve been on the road a bit, moving from place to place, but that isn’t unusual for me.”

“Any particular reason you chose Westchester County to land on?”

“I don’t know…I just,” you blanch, realizing he’s right, except it hasn’t been one big change – it’s been little by little. “I felt drawn east.”

Logan considers this for a moment; you can see the ditch between his eyebrows deepen with thought, before he seems to come to some sort of conclusion.

“I think you been in fight or flight for a long time, trying to survive on scraps and strangers’ generosity. Let me guess. No family left? Nowhere to call home? Somethin’ big and bad happen to you?”

You say nothing and he watches a scowl slip across your face, humming when he realizes he’s cut deep, to the bone.

“C’mere,” Logan murmurs, and you take steps backward as he comes toward you, the backs of your calves meeting the bed. He holds his hands up, palms facing you. “Hey, okay. I won’t hurt you, I promise. I’m not in the business of scaring little girls.”

“I’m not a little girl,” you scoff, staring at him out of the corner of your eye as he advances, albeit a little more slowly, on you.

Logan shakes his head. “You’re still much younger than me, sweetheart.”

“What? You don’t look older than 31, maybe 32.”

“Yeah, well. Looks aren’t everything, okay? I’m just — I’m not in the business of scaring girls. I wouldn’t’a let you bring me back here if I was going to hurt you; that’s not who I am.”

You suppose you don’t have much choice but to trust him. 

“I wanted you to come here,” Logan breathes, hands returning to his sides. He gives you a look, asking permission to move closer to you, to touch you, and you tip your head forward in a slight nod. “So I can do this.”

He grasps your forearm in his hand, places your palm on his bicep, and immediately winces. White flashes in front of your eyes, and a sharp pain nearly splits your head in half. You gasp his name, beg him to stop. When he pulls your hand from him, it almost looks like the print of it has been burned into his skin.

“I have a friend who’s an empath,” Logan murmurs, pupils blown, once his heartbeat has recovered to its resting rate. “She has to touch someone, to affect the way they feel. It’s good for, you know, calming people down in situations where they might be worked up. You, on the other hand…”

Logan trails off and you shake your head, bringing your arms up to fold across your torso, shivering gently. “What? I’m what?”

“I think, when you touched me, you made me feel what you were feeling. You were scared of me, huh? I could feel it, immediately. I could taste copper in my mouth, I started sweating.” Logan laughs softly, running his fingers across the skin of his right hand. “My palms are still sweaty.” 

He’s still staring down at his hands, at the stretch of skin on his arm that still stings with the feeling of you. Your eyes rove over his handsome profile, at his strong nose. His jaw ticks when he looks back over to you, one eyebrow curled.

”Sorry,” he adds. “I didn’t know it would hurt you.”

Already walking past you, Logan gestures toward the bed. “Sit,” he orders, and you blanch and do as he says. He digs a cellular phone out of the front pocket of his jeans and ducks his head, disappearing wordlessly into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Groaning, you fall back onto the bedspread. Fuck, this whole ordeal has sobered you up, and quick. Why is there a strange man in your bathroom? You could make people feel what you’re feeling? What was going to happen now?

You run through every possibility — you could leave before he comes back, abandon your stuff, take your car and run — but by the time you come to any sort of conclusion, Logan emerges from the bathroom. 

“C’mon,” he says, sliding his jacket back over his arms, zipping it up and gesturing toward the door with his head. “Got somebody who wants to meet you.”

You sit up straight and look around at your belongings. Logan seems to take this hint and starts gathering the articles of clothing strewn across the room, along with those still somehow neatly folded in the motel dresser, ignoring your protests and stuffing them in the suitcase open on the floor against the wall. After a few moments of watching Logan pull together your worldly belongings, you fumble with the drawer on the bedside table, open the bible, and pull out your passport and an indeterminate, but large, amount of cash. Logan eyes it but says nothing, and when you zip your suitcase closed, he picks it up for you without a word.

“You won’t need to come back here,” Logan mutters as you slam the tailgate on your truck closed. He points to the room you’d just left, then rounds to the driver’s side of your truck and starts walking across the parking lot, looking over his shoulder to shout, “You can leave your key in the room. There’s plenty of empty beds where we’re headed.”

“And if I don’t want to go?”

Logan stops and turns back to face you, his jaw set. “Pretty soon, people’ll figure out what you are, sweetheart. And they won’t take to you as nicely as I have.”

You snort. Nicely. But you know he’s right. It seems like things are a little different around here, for people like you. But you know that now you know what you are, that will change. As you’re trying to figure out what to say to him, Logan starts backing up.

You’re still unsure of how to talk to this man you’d only recently met, who’d already had a hand in changing your life fundamentally, but you hold a hand up, asking him to stop. He does. He watches you carefully, probably trying to decide whether or not you’re going to run away. You’re still not sure yourself.

“How did you know that you needed me to touch you?”

“Call it gut instinct.”

“It didn’t hurt, by the way,” you murmur, turning to look at him. A few paces away from you, one of Logan’s eyebrows arches, and you wring your hands together.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It felt good.”

—————

The place you’re headed — plenty of empty beds, he’d said — is less than a ten minute drive from the motel you’d been staying at, it turns out. Logan had told you to wait by your truck while he went back to the bar to pick up his bike, then drove ahead of you all the way there, your headlights illuminating the back of his body. Wrought iron gates await you, and they ease open as you pull up the long gravel drive.

Logan drops his kickstand and leaves his motorcycle directly in front of a large set of wooden doors, and you slow nearly to a stop, trying to decide where’s best for your truck. Logan’s one step ahead of you and dismounts the bike, pointing you toward a line of cars on the other side of the little lot, following you on foot as you shift into park and turn the vehicle off.

“What is this place?”

Logan is popping your tailgate open when you open your door and he pulls your suitcase from the bed — the act takes him little effort, you notice. You thank him and try to take the case from him, but he shakes you off and leads you to the building.

“It’s a school,” Logan says, pushing through the front door. Immediately you’re greeted with the sound of children’s laughter, of feet running on wooden floors, of voices echoing off walls in the distance. You catch the door as it closes behind Logan, trying your best not to be distracted by the subtle opulence of just the foyer.

Logan drops your suitcase by the front window, then unzips his coat, removes it, and hangs it on the coatrack to his right. “We’ll figure out your room situation soon, but I wanna take you down to meet Charles first.”

“Charles?”

“He owns the place,” Logan mutters, crooking a finger to indicate for you to follow him. “He’ll want to see what you can do.”

Pursing your lips, you decide to press your luck with Logan. “What about what you can do? Is it just the claws?”

Logan smirks, coming to an abrupt stop in the dark hallway. He turns to face you, and you can see his teeth shine as he smiles. “What? You hoping for somethin’ else, a bigger show than I gave you earlier?”

You stand your ground with him, but your heart is racing, and he cocks an eyebrow like he can tell. He relents, shrugging.

“I heal pretty fast, too.”

Charles’ office is behind the last door on the left, at the end of the hall, and you’re shocked when Logan knocks, rather than entering the room like he belongs there.

“Come in,” you hear, then realize you hadn’t actually heard it. It’s more like you’d felt it knocking around the inside of your skull. Your heartbeat picks up again.

“It’s okay,” Logan says out of the corner of his mouth. “He does that sometimes.”

The door opens, and you’re met with an almost-empty office — only a bald man sat behind a large wooden desk.

“So,” the man says, folding his hands upon the tabletop. No hello. No, it’s lovely to meet you. “You’re an empath, are you?”

“I — I guess?”

“Hm,” he murmurs, glancing at Logan, who stands behind you and to the left, slightly.

“She is, Chuck,” Logan assures Charles. “I felt it myself. She can show others her emotions, make them feel what she feels. She was scared when she met me — had my heart racin’. I could see myself through her eyes.”

He hadn’t told you that part, and you worry he’d noticed that your heart hadn’t only been racing because you were afraid. Charles clicks his tongue, and surveys you, your dirty shoes, the wild look in your eye, and clears his throat.

“If you wouldn’t mind, young lady, I’d quite like to feel for myself, as well.”

A blush heats up your face and you step forward, throwing a tentative look at Logan over your shoulder. He nods, dispelling any fears, and you step forward until you’re standing at the edge of Charles’s desk. You reach across, shaking, and take the man’s hand in yours.

“Oh,” Charles murmurs, his pupils dilated. “That’s certainly new. You’ve no need to be afraid, dear, we only want to help you. As I’m sure Logan told you, it’s a dangerous world out there, for our kind.”

“And we’re safe here?”

“Yes.”

Logan brushes past you and rounds Charles’s desk, leaning down to murmur something in the man’s ear. You can hear their hushed, hurried voices, but can’t make out what they’re saying, and the longer you stand there as an onlooker, the more out of place you feel. You shift your weight from your left foot to your right foot and look out the window as they talk.

The sun is setting outside — the late summer glow illuminating the office, warming your face — and you decide to clear your throat, drawing the men’s attention back to you.

“If it’s alright, I’d like to be alone for the night. I think.”

“That’s alright, yes,” Charles smiles, raising a hand and curling his fingers inward. The door opens behind you, and you jump. “This is a lot for one day, I understand. Logan, if you would show our guest to a spare room? One in your wing, perhaps, in case she is in need of anything.”

You glance at Logan and watch him nod, then turn and wink at you. You roll your eyes at him. He doesn’t know you, and the familiarity with which he interacts with you is unnerving, but at the same time, you find him intriguing.

It’s almost like the man you met at the bar and the man guiding you out of this room are two entirely separate people. The man from the dive was overeager, compensating for being the one thing there that was out of place. This man is relaxed. This is his home.

You wonder as you watch him if this is who he really is. 

“Charles is telepathic,” Logan murmurs, almost as if he can also hear your thoughts racing. He glances over at you, holding your eye a beat too long. “He’s also telekinetic.”

“Hence the door opening on its own.” You pause. “And the creepy voice inside my head.”

Logan chuckles, shrugging and bending down to retrieve your suitcase from where it now sits at the bottom of the staircase. You watch the muscles in his biceps flex, your mouth suddenly going very dry. “You get used to it. People say he can read every mind within a two-hundred-and-fifty-mile radius of wherever he sits. Can’t imagine all that noise all the time.”

Humming your consensus, you follow him, gaze trapped between his broad shoulders. Even the back of his neck is enticing. “If he could read my mind, why wouldn’t that have been enough for him to know?”

“There’s something different about what you do,” he says, guiding you up the stairs to the second floor and down a long, carpeted hall. “It requires touch. Charles can read your mind, sure, but there’s more to your influence than just your thoughts. It’s baser, more animalistic.”

Finally, the two of you come to a dead end, and Logan opens the nondescript wooden door to your left. He walks inside without waiting to see if you’ll follow and places your suitcase down on the end of the twin-sized bed against the farthest wall.

“You need anything, I’m two doors down across the hall, okay? Seriously. Anything.”

You haven’t moved from where you stopped in the doorway to watch him, one fist pressed against the frame you’re leant up against. He brushes past you, so close you can smell his cheap aftershave, the whiskey on his breath still lingering, though he hasn’t once seemed drunk. The hint of something more pungent. You open your mouth — before he gets too far, you want to ask him the question you haven’t yet had the courage to voice.

“Logan?”

The man pauses, his face inches from yours. Your gaze flicks between his eyes, then down across mouth, to where his throat moves as he swallows. “Hm?”

“Why are you helping me?”

What you mean is, You don’t seem like a generous man. What you mean is, I’m not afraid of you, but I haven’t yet decided if I can trust you. What you mean is, Why me?

He pauses, considering your question, then places one hand on your bicep and squeezes. His eyes are wet, like someone who remembers too much and not enough. Before you can catch your breath, he’s moved on, that same hand now wrapped around the doorknob of his own room. A small smile graces the lower half of his face. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I got a habit a’ pickin’ up strays.”

—————

The days pass by quickly, and they’re exhausting. There’s a war brewing, they all say. A war none of you had ever asked to be a part of, but have no choice in joining. You wake daily before the sun rises, called downstairs to do endless exercises to strengthen your control over your ability, you’ve come to think of it as. The problem is that you’re not sure you’re capable of the things they need you to be capable of.

“Can we stop, for today?”

You’re bent at the waist, arms dangling, both hands clutching the opposite elbow. It helps you decompress. This isn’t physically tiring work, necessarily, but the mental strain is undeniable. You’re avoiding Charles’s gaze, which you know will have a disappointed glean to them.

“What, can’t handle it already?”

You perk up at the sound of Logan’s voice, and when you turn your head towards it, you see him walking towards you across the yard, light wash jeans slung low on his hips once again. The sleeves of his white tee are rolled up, straining against the corded muscle of his biceps, the collar cut into a V at the front.

Since you first met him, you’ve learned a few things about Logan: one, he’s Canadian. Two, he can drink you under the table, and he will absolutely let you drink yourself to sleep, but he always makes sure you end up in your own bed at the end of every night. And three, his powers are more than just the claws: he has a regenerative healing power, alongside superhuman strength, and superhuman stamina. The thought of that last one makes you blush.

You spend most evenings with him on the floor of your room, drinking cheap whiskey while he chain smokes and deals you in after every round of cards he kicks your ass at.

“Need to work on your poker face, darlin’,” he always says, smirking and shuffling the cards again with his lithe, thick fingers. 

And on the nights when you can’t find sleep, he sits up with you in your room, reading Hemingway and Steinbeck and Fitzgerald, even some Stephen King, while you curl up on your side and let the even sound of his breathing lull you unconscious.

You get used to each other’s presence. You don’t talk much while you sit together – is there really anything more to say? He’d clocked you that very first day. You were alone in the world, before, but not anymore.

He doesn’t do this with anyone else, you notice. Allow them into his small circle of trust, or whatever this is. You’re friends, you think. He hasn’t let himself have many of those.

You’ve also learned a few things about yourself, the most important being that with some practice you no longer get a splitting headache using your ability; that you can control when and how you use it; and that you’ve been meditating on some other, perhaps more enjoyable and creative ways, to make use of it.

Although you’d tried to deny it from the start, unfortunately — mostly for yourself — the attraction you feel toward Logan is unshakable. He’s rough, and sharp, and impermeable, but he seems to have a soft spot for you. You can’t tell if it’s the circumstances under which the two of you met that have him feeling that way, but you’ve developed a fun back and forth over the last few weeks.

“What, sweet cheeks,” Logan pokes at you, left hand on his cocked hip. “Is it that hard for you, still?”

Shaking your head, you grin at him, one hand cupped over your eyes to block the sun behind him. You turn to glance at the back of Charles’s chair, already heading away from the two of you. Your attention falls back on Logan.

“C’mere, then,” you murmur, standing up straight and mirroring his body language. One of his eyebrows arches and his canine teeth appear as his smile widens. “I’ll show you how easy I can get it goin’.”

As he crosses the remaining bit of yard between you, that smug look on his face, you channel fury. You push every ounce of attraction and good will you feel toward Logan out of your mind, and you think: anger. I’m angry. At my circumstances. At what the world does to people like me. At how much I’m underestimated — at how much I underestimate myself.

By the time Logan has made it to your side, hand already outstretched, you’ve made up your mind. And you place one hand on the side of his face.

Immediately, you feel heat, but the cracking headache from that first day you’d met never comes. Instead, you feel an ache deep in your gut, a wave of want, of assurance that you’re where you need to be, with exactly the right person. You hold your palm against him for another minute and his face falls forward, towards your chin, before he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls it away, gasping with relief when you let him go. 

Logan’s cheeks are flushed, and when he looks back up at you, chest heaving, you realize he hadn’t felt your anger. You didn’t have much to be angry about — sad, sure; scared, yes — so anger must have been the wrong emotion to pull from. You’d wanted to get him worked up, but not like this.

Instead, you worry you’ve just ruined any ounce of trust the two of you had built between you. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leans away from you, his eyes running from the top of your head, down to where your own hands now sit at your sides.

“I’ll talk to you later, kid, okay?”

Logan doesn’t let you respond, instead turning to leave you standing, heart falling, lost in your head in the middle of the yard, while all around you birds chirp and children play.

—————

“Well, well.”

You jump, the back of your head snapping against the top of the inside of the fridge, and you groan, pressing the heel of your hand to the now-tender spot, pulling it away to see if you’ve made yourself bleed.

“Burning the midnight oil?” Logan laughs, padding across the kitchen and rubbing a hand against the top of your head where you knocked it. “Sorry, bub. You okay?”

“I don’t know. Ask me in a few minutes when my eyes uncross.”

You’re too focused on the feeling of his fingers against your scalp to think about anything else. You glance down at Logan’s flannel pajama pants and his bare feet. He grabs you by the shoulders and steers you against the kitchen island behind you.

“Lemme get you some ice.”

You watch, back pressed to the edge of the counter, as Logan pulls a tea towel from one of the kitchen drawers and a tray of ice from the freezer, popping them out onto the towel and folding it into itself, wrapping the tail to give you something to hold onto. You prop it against your skull — instant relief. You eye him warily, accusatory.

“What are you down here for anyway?”

“Same thing as you, I think.”

Logan refills the tray with water and places it back into the freezer, and this thoughtfulness surprises you, you’re embarrassed to admit. You wouldn’t have thought him to be so considerate. Then again, he had just handmade an ice pack for you. Your eyes glaze over and your mouth goes dry just watching his fingers work. 

You haven’t seen him for days, not since you’d accidentally let him feel…whatever it is you feel for him. Every day when you’d gotten out of bed, even when that was before the sun rose, he would always already be gone from his room, the door open and his duvet cover tucked neatly underneath his mattress. He hadn’t taken any of his meals in the dining room with the rest of your peers, hadn’t joined in on any sparring sessions like he usually loved to do. His bike had stayed parked outside — you’d kept an eye out for it every day. You’d begun to worry that something had happened to him.

The silence starts to dig into you. You can’t help it; you have to break it.

“Thought you died, I didn’t see you for so long.”

“Yeah, well. I had some shit to take care of.”

You scoff at that. “I saw your bike outside, Logan, you never left the school. What kind of shit did you have to take care of?”

Another beat of awkward silence, and you can’t stand whatever wall has come up between you. You want to knock it down.

“You remember what you said to me in that bar?”

“What’s that?” Logan looks up at you, a sharp look in his eye. A warning, almost, but unfortunately, you’re feeling a little bolder than usual. Perhaps you’re concussed.

“You said that we were drawn to each other because of our abilities. I think maybe that wasn’t the only reason we found each other.”

He leans back against the freezer and stands quiet for a moment, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath. His dark eyes regard you in the dim light of the kitchen.

You step forward into his space, one hand coming up to press against his chest, through his shirt. The other, the one holding his makeshift ice pack, lands at your side.

Logan’s breath catches in his throat at your touch and he swallows around it, his heart stuttering under your palm. He’s waiting for the feeling to rush into and overwhelm him. It never comes. 

Logan exhales, then reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your cheeks flush a furious red and he chuckles at the feeling of it against his fingers. You’re tempted to shift your hand over to touch his skin, to fill him with this rush of unexpected desire you feel, but you can’t quell your thoughts that that would be a bad idea. Even though the position you’re in right now might be regarded as a bad idea, too.

Since you met, he’s made it abundantly clear he doesn’t see you as anything more than a friend — if that. But you’ve been replaying the other day in the training yard in your mind, and you can’t shake the feeling that maybe he’s got the same desire you do.

“You know, you’re right,” Logan murmurs, and you cock your head, looking to his face for an explanation. He takes the towel full of ice from your hand by your side and holds it against your head for you. “What you think about me, it’s all true. I’m not a nice man.”

“I don’t know. You say that, but you seem pretty nice to me. You took me in. You’re helping me understand what I am, what I can do. Logan, fuck’s sake, you tuck me into bed when I drink too much.”

Logan laughs softly, tilting his chin to take you in from a different angle. Your heart squeezes in your chest.

“I just can’t figure you out. You act all mean and tough and scary, but I see the way you look at me, and I’ve only known you, what, a handful of weeks? I see how you are with some of the students. I see how you are with Charles. You got some deep, dark past you don’t want anyone knowin’ about, sure, but you’re a nice man, Logan. You’re soft on me. I can tell.”

Considering you for a moment, Logan’s lips parts to respond, then he thinks better of it. His eyes fall from yours to the way your chest expands with every breath. You’ve wondered about you and him, and that one look gives you all the courage you need to say it.

“Since I got here I’ve had this feeling, that with you and me, there’s something bigger. Tell me you feel it too, that I’m not goin’ crazy. And if you don’t, Logan, tell me that, then. Anything to stop this awful, sick feeling I get whenever you walk into the room.”

You wait to see if he’ll tell you to fuck off, that he doesn’t see you that way. That he’s soft on you, sure, but this is as far as it can go. Instead of saying anything at all, he surges forward to claim your mouth with his.

The kiss is hesitant, at first, before Logan can figure out whether you’re going to push him away or not, but when you open your mouth to deepen it, it turns furious. It’s all teeth, tongue, Logan’s hips caging you in and driving you back against the counter behind you. He’s got one hand wrapped around your waist, the other gripping the countertop, and when you carelessly bring a hand up to rest a hand against his cheek, Logan gasps against your mouth. The towel full of ice finds its way into the sink.

Shocked, he peels himself from you, panting. You hadn’t thought about whether you’d project or not when you’d touched him — and if his blown-out pupils are any indication, he’d felt it. All of it. The ache deep in your gut and the clench of your thighs. The flare of your nostrils as his scent hits you, heavy and earthy and masculine. The undeniable way you fit against him, your chest pressed to his, the shock of his hips aligned with yours, like you were made for one another. You want him to have you, have all of you, and with your palm still pressed to his skin, he knows.

“Is that really what you want?”

It’s practically a growl, and you pull your hand from him, allowing him to recover, but only slightly. He’s got himself worked up all on his own. 

You can see in his face that he wants you, too. You nod, bring one hand down to clutch the waistband of his pants and tug him forward against you again. He groans, gathering some of your hair in one hand and gripping it tight. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not exactly a — a gentle guy.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.”

Logan laughs, breathy, and tilts his head back to take you in. He throws a glance down at your hand tucked into his pants, the backs of your knuckles pressed against the swell of his stomach. “I didn’t have you pegged for the fuck-me-in-the-kitchen type.”

“I’ll let you take me back to your bedroom, if you want.”

Whistling lowly, Logan leans his face in close to yours, the tip of his nose nudging against your cheekbone. “And if I told you I wanted to take you right here?”

“I’d tell you that’s fine, too,” you swallow, angling your face up to try to press your lips to his, but his grip on your hair stops you. He grunts, tugging a little harder, so you have to look into his eyes. They’re soft, wary. For all the talk he talks, he’s a man of few words when it matters, and you can tell he can’t believe you’d want a guy like him. You’re not exactly a gentle girl, either, but he sees how much more the world has gotten to him than it has to you. You’ve still got the potential to be someone who wouldn’t want him.

“You really want me?” You hear the unspoken emphasis. You could have anyone else, and I can’t see why you’d pick me. 

“Since the day we met,” you mutter, his breath against your mouth driving you insane. “Logan, please kiss me.”

He brings his other hand, the one that’s been holding your hips in place this whole time, up to press against your cheek, and he closes the distance between you once again. The hand still gripping his pants tugs them forward, and you can feel his insistent cock where it’s now pressing against you. You moan into Logan’s mouth and this seems to drive him mad, holding your head in his hands like you’ll float away and driving his tongue against yours, languid and fluid but at the same time persistent. 

“C’mon, doll,” he says when you break away to gulp down a breath, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I got a queen bed in my room.”

As Logan drags you out of the kitchen and to the wing of the mansion where the two of you live, practically a world of your own, you trace your fingers down his back over the top of his shirt. His body shivers under your touch and he laughs, turning to look at you as he pushes through into his bedroom.

“Hey, yeah,” you murmur, watching him drag his shirt up and over his head, exposing his bare chest and the patches of short, wiry hair growing there, the vein on his lower stomach that leads your gaze down to wonder at the bulge in his pajama pants. You tear your eyes away and meet his smug stare. “How come I gotta sleep in a twin?”

He laughs at you, reaching out to curl his fingers around the bottom of your sweater and lead you closer to him. He hums, muttering, “Don’t worry about it.”

Then he’s kissing you again, your eyes closing at the sensation of his mouth against yours. His hands are underneath your shirt, skirting across your bare back and now you’re the one shivering under his touch. His fingernails scratch gently against your skin and you moan again, sighing into his open mouth. He smiles before pulling away, only slightly.

“Feels good?”

You nod, flexing your fingers at your sides. You can’t remember the last time someone touched you so sweetly. He catches sight of your hands and runs the tips of his own fingers down your arms.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he says, mouth close to the shell of your ear. He tucks his teeth around it, too, gently, but you cry out at the surprising sensation. “You can touch me.”

You nod and place an open palm against his sternum, his bare skin heating beneath your hand. You want him to feel the way your mouth has dried at the thought of being beneath him in his bed. You want him to know just how far you’ll let him go. When you open your eyes to look at him, a different beast entirely has crossed his face. His mouth curls into a self-satisfied smile.

“Hm,” Logan grunts, nostrils flaring, teeth baring further.  “I can smell how bad you want me, baby. Could down in the kitchen, too. I can feel how tense I make you. Do I still scare you? Huh?”

You shake your head, whisper, “No,” your voice hoarse. “You don’t scare me, Logan.”

“No, I didn’t think so. I don’t even think it scares you, how much you want this. I think it excites you. Think you been wonderin’ what it’d be like for a while, huh?”

Logan’s arm tightens around your waist and pulls you flush against him, your hand trapped between your chests. You gasp, the warmth of his body flooding yours, filling you with heat, with want, which then rushes into Logan, his eyes rolling back at the sensation. 

“I wasn’t sure about you when I first met you,” he bites out, tilting his head to meet your eye again. “But fuck if I wouldn’t move heaven and earth for you now.”

Your heart stutters at the admission, the reassurance that you’re not alone in the way you feel about him. You peel your palm from his skin and sigh in relief when his gaze softens. Logan pushes his face into your neck, lips pressing tenderly to your pulse point, forcing a soft groan from your mouth. You feel him smile against you and when his teeth graze that same spot, your knees buckle beneath you.

Tucking your hands back between your chests, you push Logan gently away from you and he goes willingly, a sharp contrast to the man who was rooted to his barstool the first time you’d tried to touch him. The look on his face would frighten you if he hadn’t spent so much time convincing you he wouldn’t hurt you. His expression is dark, contemplative.

Logan’s eyes watch, hooded with desire, as you back away from him, your knees buckling when the backs of them hit the edge of his bed. As soon as you sit, he begins stalking toward you, your heart racing against your sternum, and you meet his eye just as he reaches you. Taking your cheek in his hand, he angles your face up and watches as your eyelids flutter closed. His hand travels down, fingers running over the side of your neck and cupping the warm flesh where it meets your shoulder.

“I can feel your pulse,” he murmurs into the warm air between you. “It’s racing.”

You gasp when you feel his hand search out your heartbeat through your chest. Opening your eyes to meet his again, you see that the desire in his face has been replaced with something that looks frighteningly close to affection.

He grasps your wrist, thumb rubbing against the soft, sensitive skin above your pulse there, and guides your hand to press against his own heartbeat, a mirror to yours, thundering in his chest, too.

“You do this to me. Not because you want me to know what you’re feeling, sweetheart, because this is how I feel.” He swallows, voice thick in his throat. “I want you so bad.”

The confession comes out rasping, like the words had been ripped from his chest. Your hand trails down his bare stomach, the backs of your knuckles dancing along the planed ridges there. The skin beneath your fingers jumps when you skirt across it. Pushing your fingers into the waistband of the flannel pants, you groan at the sensation of the heat coming off of his skin. “This okay?”

“Fuck, baby, you’re askin’ me if this is okay?” Logan’s hand comes up to cup your cheek once again, and you glance up at the grin on his face. It lights up his eyes. It’s like Logan’s fighting two different parts of himself: the very human desire to be gentle, to be careful, and the beast inside of him that wants to tear you apart.

Laughing, you tug down on the elastic, cheeks heating when you don’t feel another waistband. He’s bare beneath, and as you’re eye-level with his hips, you come face-to-face with his flushed, heavy cock as you strip the fabric from him. The tip of it weeps as you palm him, stroking him gently so his foreskin pulls back and reveals the crimson tint of it. You can’t say you’re shocked by the size of him, considering how large a man he actually is.

“Fuck, Logan,” you breathe, mouth watering, and you know the way you’re looking at him would be a bit embarrassing if he wasn’t looking at you the exact same way, his lashes fluttering as you push the adrenaline coursing through your veins into him. He wraps one big hand around yours and squeezes, groaning at the sensation.

“Here, baby,” he says, pulling your hand from his cock and placing it into your lap. He laughs when you whine in protest, stepping out of his pajama pants entirely and leaving himself naked. You’re still fully clothed and it almost pains you. “Plenty a’ time for me to stuff myself down your throat later.”

The way he says it has a low, fuzzy warmth rushing into your gut, but you quit your protesting when Logan kneels on the floor at your feet. “Lean back.”

You do as he says and inch yourself further up the bed, knees still hanging over the side of the mattress, anchoring yourself to his bedspread with your elbows. Logan crooks his fingers into your own pants, kissing the skin he exposes as he pulls them down, down, leaving you in only your tee shirt and soaked-through panties. He eyes them as you unconsciously angle your knees outward, but ignores your desire completely, instead leaning up to bite the hem of your shirt and drag it up and over your stomach.

Gasping, you rush to pull the fabric from the grip of his teeth and pull it over your head, tossing it to the floor beside the bed and cupping the back of his head in one hand, fingers tangling themselves in the hair at the base of his neck. You ease him upward, his palms pressed into the bed next to your waist, and pull him into a searing kiss, hoping to communicate how you feel without saying a word. Logan pants into your mouth and squirms out of your grip, pupils once again blown wide. He leans down to press his lips to the base of your throat, your elbow falling back to the bed to hold yourself up. 

Your gaze follows his descent down your torso, watching as Logan drops a kiss to your breastbone, to the areola of your right breast, then to the one of your left. His lips engulf your nipple and you moan softly, biting your bottom lip when he flicks his tongue across it. He drags his lips down your stomach, settling against the knot of one soft peak of your hip bone. He bites gently and your stomach clenches at the feeling. When you place a hand against his cheek, his eyes flutter shut, his nostrils flaring at the feeling flooding his body. The pleased, humming warmth he’s making you feel. 

“Logan,” you whisper, watching him continue down, mouthing at the skin on the inside of your thighs, kneading the soft flesh there. “Please.”

“Please what, honey?” You can feel him smirk against you. “Gotta use your words.”

“Please put your mouth on me.”

“Am putting my mouth on you,” he says, smug, and you gasp, tossing your head back when he bites you again, this time enough to make your delicate skin bruise. “Whaddaya want?”

“Want you to fuck me.”

“With my mouth?” Logan tuts, bringing one hand up to pull your panties to the side and expose your warm, wet flesh to the cool air of his bedroom. Your hips twitch. “You sure?”

You angle yourself up, trying desperately to find his mouth and claim it yourself. He laughs at the desperate want plastered across your face. “Oh, fuck off, you god damn tease, just fuck me.”

Logan shakes his head, leaning in to lick along your wet cunt and a sharp, bright cry rips itself from your chest. Your thighs try to close around his head as he presses his thumb into your pubic bone and holds you open, laps at your clit, but he growls and grips one in his hand, wrenching it away from him. His eyes shine up at you from between your legs.

“Why’d’ya wanna do that, huh, baby? You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t make it hard on me,” he murmurs, wrapping his lips around your clit and suckling gently while you cry out. He carries on like that for quite a bit – just his mouth against the most sensitive part of you, fingers pressing into your thighs. Your legs shake and you cover your mouth with your hand; you worry about coming too quickly until he eases up, pushing one finger inside of you to fuck you with.

Your hand grips the hair at the top of his head, and Logan groans at the pressure. Hissing, he presses his palms flat against the insides of your thighs to wrench them further open, encouraging you wordlessly to hook your feet across his back. When he’s satisfied, he crooks a finger around your panties and pulls until they tear, the shreds of fabric no longer an obstacle in the way of seeking out your pleasure. 

“Want me to make you come?” The question is asked with his mouth pressed against your cunt, and you gasp, back arching, at the feeling of his words. “You wanna come on my tongue?”

You nod furiously, writhing as a second finger works itself inside of you, curling upward to meet head-on that spot inside of you that sends sparks behind your eyes. Your heels dig into the skin of his back and you reach down, blindly fumbling for Logan’s hand. He smiles wide and takes it, tangling his fingers with yours as your hips rut against his face. 

He talks you through it between strokes of his tongue against your clit, his fingers pumping in and out as he tells you how good you are for him, how good you feel for him, how he can’t wait to feel you around his cock. You throw an arm across your eyes and whimper, hips twitching as you come down, pulling his hair and crying out for him to let up. He places one last kiss above your cunt, smiling as you gasp, and leans back to admire you.

Logan places your feet on the floor and plants his hands beside you, using the mattress as leverage to hoist himself up above you. He grins down at you and for however fucked out he already looks, you know you must look a thousand times worse.

��Hi, gorgeous,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss, giving you a taste of yourself by easing his tongue into your mouth. You can feel his cock, weeping and solid and insistent against your hip. Fuck. 

You groan against him, your lips stretching into a smile as he kisses you languidly and reaches out to help you wrap your arms around his neck. “Here.”

Standing, Logan holds your body close to him. Your head notches into his neck and suckles there while he pulls you up the bed, settling you against the pillows underneath him. He props himself up on one hand as his knees push against the insides of your thighs, opening you up for him.

One hand on your flushed cheek, Logan fists his cock, smiling down at you. “Y’alright there, sweet cheeks?”

“Head’s fuzzy,” you murmur, reaching out to grip his hips with your hands. “Want you.”

Logan smirks, leaning back on his heels and running a hand through his hair, scalp sweaty. Your own fans out behind your head. He gawps down at you. “Look like a goddess like this, you know.”

Your blush deepens and you push a hand against his stomach. “Stop.”

“You do,” he smirks, leaning down to plant kisses across your face, down your jaw, to your neck. “Mm, so fucking pretty when I’ve just made you come. Smell so good.”

You gasp when he presses his mouth right behind your ear, gripping your hips. His cock drags across your stomach, a heavy reminder of his own neglected desire. You reach down to fist a hand around him and tug, pulling a groan from him.

“My girl want me to fuck her proper? Hm?”

Open-mouthed and with a heavy gaze, you watch as Logan sits back and fucks himself up into your fist, hips stuttering when you tighten your grip. His chest glistens with sweat, heaving as you push the burning feeling in your veins through to him. He gasps, stretching a hand down and holding your wrist still.

“Hey,” he growls, head thrown back. “Play fair.”

“Why should I?” He’s glaring down at you now, which only eggs you on. You shrug. “S’fun to watch you come apart like this, big strong man.”

Logan groans, pulling his hips back, and his cock falls from your grasp. “I’ll show you comin’ apart, baby.”

Sitting back on his heels, Logan wraps his hands around your hips and jerks them forward until your cunt is close enough to him that he would barely have to move his own hips to fuck his cock into you.

“You got a condom?”

“It’s okay,” you whimper, shaking your head. “Don’t need one. On the pill. I’m clean.”

Logan looks down at you, trying to gauge what headspace you’re in, if he should grab one anyway – and you shake your head. “Don’t need it, please.”

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” you repeat. He smiles, squeezes your hips tight. He nods, bringing one hand down to grip himself and ease toward you. Runs the head of his cock down your cunt, getting himself nice and slick, up and down and up again until you’re a panting mess, wiggling your hips. It’s torture. “Please, Logan.”

“Oh, now you’re askin’ nice?”

You groan, wild-eyed, and he wants to laugh at the look on your face but he chokes it back. You need him – bad – and he can’t say no to you.

“Alright, baby,” he says, hushed, gripping your thigh with the hand not currently around his cock. Guiding himself to your entrance, Logan pushes his hips forward, groaning as the head of his cock disappears inside of you. Despite how wet you are, the stretch burns, your body unattuned to his size. He presses forward, bit by bit, licking the tip of his thumb and pushing it against your clit to ease your discomfort, and you gasp at the feeling, eyes rolling back. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.”

Once he’s fully seated inside of you, he pulls your hips flush to his, leaning down to press himself to you completely. Hand still pressed to your clit between you, Logan circles his hips, watching your face, how you react. He watches your eyelids flutter, watches you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. He gives a shallow thrust to gauge your readiness, and you moan, low, in the back of your throat. 

“S’okay,” you grunt out, hands braced against the outsides of his thighs, eyes trained on his lips. “Fuck, please. I’m so wet, Logan, please, please fuck me.”

Logan groans, your words going straight to his cock, twitching inside of you. He grips your waist in his hands and gives another exploratory rut, this time short, puncturing. Your breath is pushed out of your lungs. He rocks his hips back once again, pressing forward slow before punctuating the thrust with a sharp jolt, shocking the air from you once again.

Your nails dig into his thighs and he nods, his forehead rubbing against yours. “Okay baby, okay. I’ll fuck you, yeah. This what you want?”

His hips ease back, pulling his cock from your warmth almost all the way, before thrusting back in, deep, to the point. Then again, and again, and again. Your head has fallen back, Logan having to hook an arm around the back of your neck as you’re forced up the bed.

“You’re so warm, pulling me back in, sweetheart, so fucking wet for me. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’re so tight, god, like you were made for me.” 

“Fuck,” you whisper, mouth pressed to the side of his face. Your cunt tightens around him and you whine. “Already fuckin’ me so good.”

“You gonna come for me, baby? Yeah?”

“Yeah.” And you are. Again. You’re gonna come for him again. His cock is driving into you so fast you can’t escape the warm sensation in your gut – and you don’t want to. It feels so good, it’s like your whole body has turned to goo beneath him. You press a kiss to the underside of his chin, his beard scratching at your lips, but you don’t care. 

“Yeah, baby? Can feel your cunt tight around me, can feel you ‘bout to come.”

“Gonna come, Logan,” you gasp, reaching one hand up and gripping the headboard as tight as you can, but your elbow still folds, your arm putty with the pleasure. He brings his other hand up from your hips to hold you by the top of your head, to keep you from slipping further up the bed, and your hands instinctively come around to clutch his shoulders.

Immediately the pleasure coursing through you lights every nerve ending in his body fucking alive. You feel him tense beneath your fingers, pulse quickening.

His hips snap down onto yours, his cock dragging up against that rough spot inside your cunt, as your orgasm floods through you. You hardly register the deep rumbling coming from his chest as you cling to him. Logan’s breath comes gasping as the feeling of your orgasm floods through him, too, hands gripping the flesh of your ass to hold you in place while he fucks down into you.

His eyes are closed tight, stomach clenching, and when you drag one hand down to rub circles on your clit, he buries his cock deep inside of you and holds himself there. 

You scratch your nails gently down Logan’s back as he basically whimpers into the air between you, leaning up to catch his lips with yours as he rocks his hips, stuffing himself deeper, until you feel him come. He groans and spills himself into you, hips glued to yours, occasionally quavering with the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

“Fuck,” he huffs once he’s back in his body, one hand against your cheek, brushing your hair away from your mouth so he can press a kiss to them. His eyes search for yours, bright and enlivened. “You okay? Huh?”

You nod, your head loose on your neck, and he laughs. “Fuck,” he repeats. “That was fucking crazy. Is that how it feels every time?”

At that you sheepishly shake your head, eyes coming up to meet his. No, that’s not at all how it feels every time. You can tell by the look on his face he’s trying not to seem smug about that.

“That was good, though,” he murmurs, his face softening, “fuck, that was so good.”

He seems more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. You cry out when he pulls his cock from you, still holding your face and whispering sorry, baby, sorry. He presses a kiss to your mouth between apologies.

He unfolds himself from you and stands, running a hand through his hair. Pulling his pajamas back up over his legs and his shirt over his bare torso, he tells you he’ll be right back, and you must fall asleep after that because the next thing you know you’re curled up on your side while Logan runs a warm, wet washcloth across the inside of your thighs. You hiss at the sensation and he nudges a hand against your hip until you roll over onto your back.

“You sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you or nothin’?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, reaching for him and he obliges, dropping the cloth to the floor and crawling up the bed to wrap himself around you, slinging your leg over top of his. “You just wiped me out, s’all. And who thought you’d be so fuckin’ talkative in bed.”

He laughs and presses his lips to the end of your nose, his nose grazing your forehead.

You pull at his shirt and kiss him square on the mouth, a thank you for making you feel so good. So safe with him. Your bare chest is pressed to his, and you know he can probably feel how fast your pulse is racing, arms wrapped around your back. You still in his grip when you feel something pressing against your bare stomach.

He’s hard again. A fire reignites somewhere low in your belly, your mouth watering, and when you catch his eye, he grins, like he can read your thoughts.

“You wanna put that mouth to use now, sweetheart?”

[keisgirl]

I MEANT #4 w taesan my bad 😞😞

hello anonie~ this lil drabble is inspired by this pin here . thanks for requesting!

wrapped in you; boynextdoor taesan

prompt #4 "is that my fav hoodie that is on you right now?" (request)

pairing; bf!taesan x reader

wc; 0.8k

pls reblog and like if you liked the drabble!

looking for moots <3

cheers,, hannah

kpop drabble masterlist | prompt list #1

it had been a long day. the kind of day where all you wanted to do was come home, curl up on the couch, and forget the world outside. you toss your bag onto the floor by the door, kicking off your shoes with a sigh of relief. everything just felt so draining lately. you wanted something (anything) to make you feel comforted.

thats when your eyes land on the half-open closet door in the bedroom, and an idea flickers to life. taesan and you had been together long enough that borrowing each other’s clothes wasnt really a big deal. but tonight, the idea of slipping into one of his hoodies sounds like exactly what you need.

without much thought, you make your way over to the closet and rummage through the neatly hung rows of shirts and sweaters. his scent—something warm and familiar, a mix of burst of tangerine zest, fresh and sharp, softened by the subtle sweetness of blooming jasmine and the subtle freshness of laundry detergent—lingers in the air, wrapping around you like an embrace. finally, your fingers brush against the hoodie. the one you’ve seen him wear countless times, the one that always makes him look so effortlessly cozy and handsome.

its a little ridiculous how soft it is when you pull it off the hanger and slip it over your head. the fabric is worn in all the right places, loose and comfortable, falling to mid-thigh on you. you tug at the oversized sleeves, which completely swallow your hands, and take a deep breath. the scent of him fills your senses, immediately making you feel a little lighter. its like wearing a piece of him, and somehow, that makes everything just a little bit better.

you walk into the living room and collapse onto the couch, pulling your knees up and letting yourself sink into the cushions. the blackish hoodie pools around you, and for the first time today, you actually feel… content. safe, even. like nothing could touch you here, wrapped up in his warmth.

just as you're starting to relax, you hear the soft click of the front door unlocking. your heart skips a beat. he’s home.

the door swings open, and you can hear the familiar shuffle of his footsteps as he steps inside, closing the door behind him, soft thud of his bag falling onto the counter. you glance over your shoulder to see him standing in the entryway, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you.

he freezes for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you curled up in his hoodie, looking impossibly small and cozy. then, a slow grin starts to spread across his face.

"is that my hoodie you’re wearing?" he asks, amusement clear in his voice.

you try to play it cool, tugging at the sleeves as if it’s no big deal. "maybe…"

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he walks over to you. there’s a gleam in his eyes, something playful yet tender, and you can feel your heart flutter just a little as he sits down beside you on the couch.

"ill give it back later," you mumble, though even as you say it, you’re not entirely sure you mean it. the hoodie feels like a piece of him, and you’ve grown a little too attached to the way it makes you feel.

he smirks, clearly picking up on your reluctance. "you dont have to," he murmurs, his voice dropping to that soft, teasing tone that always makes your heart race. "it looks perfect on you."

you look up at him, meeting his gaze, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, so warm and affectionate, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters to him right now. it makes your chest ache in the sweetest way.

your cheeks flush, and you’re grateful for the oversized sleeves that let you hide your hands as you bury your face against his shoulder. "you’re too much," you mumble, your voice muffled by the fabric of the hoodie.

he laughs softly, his arm tightening around you as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "i know," he says, his voice a warm whisper against your hair. "but you love me anyway."

you can’t help but smile, the tension of the day melting away in his embrace. "yeah," you admit quietly, letting yourself sink deeper into the warmth of his hoodie and him. "i really do."

he stays silent for a moment, his hand gently tracing your arm through the fabric, before he leans back a little to look at you again. his expression softens, and his smile turns almost shy. “you know… you can keep it. i mean, if it makes you feel better. ill just have to find excuses to hold you more often.”

you laugh, your heart feeling lighter than it has all day. “fine, deal,” you whisper, feeling the warmth of his smile as you lean in, your forehead resting against his. for now, nothing else mattered. just the two of you, wrapped up in the comfort of each other.

thank you anon for this request! i really liked writing this heheh it gave me so much comfort!

[crossbackpoke-check]

the world at its beginning, dustin pearson // mosaic, linda pastan [Link to IHL’s Solar Bears connects NHL Draft prospect to Orlando] // Goin' high: Hughes chooses No. 86 with Devils // twice your size, declan mckenna // jeff bassett // blue is beautiful amy but the story is so the '90s, farrah field // what it means to be alive at the time of the resurrection of the dead, michalle gould // Quinn Hughes impresses youngest brother Luke with All-Star play // mozart songbook, joan larkin // siblings, paul klee // closeness lines, olivia de recat // andrew hancock // brother's keeper, young the giant // jason e. miczek // michigan athletics // "he ain't heavy, he's my brother", the hollies // luke hughes can follow brothers as first-round pick at 2021 nhl draft // genesis (from music for the dead and resurrected), valzhyna mort // jack hughes once had his braces 'ripped off his face' in a moment of sibling rivalry //

After Abel, Dante Émile // sportingnews // Cain, José Saramago (trans. Margaret Jull Costa) // Dave Sandford // Kin, Clan and Community in Proto-Indo-European Society, Birgit Anette Olsen // ESPN // Wikipedia // ESPN // Jeff Vinnick // Genesis, Valzhyna Mort // Puckprose // I Cast It Away, My Body, William Bearhart // Puckprose // Cain slaying Abel, Abraham Bloemaert (1590) // NHL // Clive Baker // Puckprose // NHL // Murder Ballad in the Land of Nod, Traci Brimhall // Freep // The Changes of Cain: Violence and the Lost Brother in Cain and Abel Literature, Ricardo J. Quinones // penticton western news // The Book of a Monastic Life, Rainer Maria Rilke (trans. Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy) // "A Brother Named Gethsemane", Natalie Diaz // NHL // NHL // Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan on 16 November 1581, Ilya Repin (1883-1885) NHL // Brothers, Dan Pagis (trans. Shirley Kaufman) // Fox News // NHL // NHL // Wikipedia // Fox News // NHL // Cain, José Saramago (trans. Margaret Jull Costa) // Allaboutthejersey // Allaboutthejersey // Jewish Literacy, Rabbi Joseph Telushkin

[donna-rinascimentale]

i just KNOW den den tumblr would go hard

3 notes

🪝🔁 jolie-rouger reblogged westendgirl

🪝 jolie-rouger

ok i know we went through this months ago but i just found out overflowing sasaki has my birth month on the sexy pirate calendar this year and i just—

listen if having a pirate kink is wrong i don’t wanna be right LOL

🎠 westendgirl Follow

Please delete this. In my country, everyone knows someone who was killed by pirates. It breaks my heart that I can’t browse safely without people like you making light of my trauma.

🪝 jolie-rouger

aren’t you the marine who got called out for spending work money on a PX5

#no but i was like. where have i heard that name before #and i snoogle it and see that’s THE westendgirl #never leaving this website. #rouge speaks

24 notes

🤖🔁 codepunk reblogged uminosora

❄️ uminosora Follow

hey im laine/stealth. 22 they/he. grand line (south side).

yes, this is a sora fanblog. i want to make it clear that i do NOT condone irl marines. AMAB. yes even your marine dad or sister or grandpa

minors dni im not a babysitter

i have an electrical engineering apprenticeship so PLEASE PLEASE talk to me about it ill love you forever

i’m an artist! i post my work under #my art !!

if we are mutuals please tw injections, wasps, and tra/fal/gar la/w (individually or with my catchall #laine don’t look or #stealth don’t look)

extended byf/dni under the cut

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Keep reading

#laine.txt #intro #sora warrior of the sea #umi no senshi sora #artists on tumblr

4 notes

👒 fuckyeahmugiwaras Follow

© FOR MUGI

XX0531 ♥

#MONKEY D LUFFY #STRAW HATS #STRAW HAT PIRATES #LUFFY #HAVE YOU EVER SEEN SUCH A LITTLE GUY #A FACE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD. TOO PURE. #ADMIN BARTO #ALSO BY THE WAY MOD HEBI IS TAKING A SMALL HIATUS. WILL EXPLAIN IN A LONGER POST

128 notes

🟠 Sponsored

The new CRIMINAL S/S 20XX collection is here.

Learn more

🍤 lia-writes Follow

SOOOO sorry for the slow updates guys! I live near the Newgate protests and my house got molotoved so I lost internet access for a few weeks BUT I’ve been writing the next chapter down on paper & just transferred it so here it is!!

Lift Me Away - Roku x Reader - Chapter 3

You find yourself trembling, not knowing what struck you. The man’s arms envelop you gently, knowing his strength, his presence otherworldly. He feels too perfect to be human—and yet he’s warm and he exhausts, the way he’s exhausted protecting you. He tilts you upright, careful of your weak knees, and looks you in the eye.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Keep reading

#monkey ball #monkey ball roku #roku x reader #reader insert #female reader #fem reader #roku x fem reader

54 notes

🃏 meadowoftheroad Follow

“i don’t find sea kings cute” ok??? sometimes a little baby has 18 rows of teeth

#sea king mention #meadow rambles #i just want to take them home is that weird?? #little noodles #1k #5k #10k #50k

73,878 notes

🌁🔁 vanillacrypt reblogged 4kari

♾️ rokusbreastimplants Follow

daily reminder that it’s okay not to engage with what’s on the news lately. breathe. you’re not a bad person for feeling overwhelmed; you’ll be alright. if you’ve been scrolling for too long, go get up and take a walk/have a glass of water. the internet isn’t going anywhere; your mental health comes first.

🌁 vanillacrypt

wise words from rokusbreastimplants

12,443 notes

🎀 nanayagi Follow

#soul king #brook #soul king brook #soul brother #soul sister #soul king fandom

1,349 notes

🪃🔁  criminaldildo reblogged bone2beasoulsister

👤  dressrosan-dreamgirl-deactivated20xx0714

I usually don’t like to delve into drama, but I can’t stay silent any longer. Mod Hebi of @fuckyeahmugiwaras is an EXTREMELY predatory individual. I will not be disclosing any of my sources, for my safety and theirs, as she has an irl documented history of hostility towards her critics.

To start, Mod Hebi is inappropriately fond of Straw Hat Luffy (who she met irl when she was in her 30s and he was 17). I’ve been told she’s tried to flirt with him on several occasions, given him large gifts, and tried to guilt him into choosing time with her over his female crewmates.

Literally kicks kittens??? I shit you not they say they’ve seen her straight up BARRELING kittens across the floor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Keep reading

🦴  bone2beasoulsister  Follow

i believe it. the way she never updated about anyone else, only luffy, and left admin barto to do all the hard work… it was always off to me.

🪃  criminaldildo  Follow

where is this coming from??

yeahhh not going along with this until there’s ACTUAL proof. mod hebi is very much a solo stan but. kicking kittens… how are we supposed to take these cartoon villain allegations seriously 💀💀

🪃  criminaldildo  Follow

of course. deactivating when people question them.

#i know we stan criminals here but can we as a fandom please express some critical thinking for ONCE

8,385 notes

🏺🔁  00tsugi reblogged mad-gadfly

🎑  take-me-to-sea  Follow

scheduling my lobotomy at doskoi panda

234,291 notes

🌁🔁  vanillacrypt reblogged sailingacademic

🛳️  marines  Follow

Pursue truth. Fight for justice.

Do you have what it takes to join the Marines? Learn more at gonavy.🐌.

👒  fuckyeahmugiwaras  Follow

K

🕊️  mad-gadfly  Follow

U

🏺  00tsugi  Follow

N

🦾  iron-hand  Follow

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⚔️  godofdoom  Follow

P

💸  whitebaron  Follow

O

🤡  histrio1ne  Follow

W

🐭  zumuzumi  Follow

P

🌋  rogerscrackden

E

🪝  jolie-rougers 

N

🍇  mogaroanfacelift  Follow

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🪩  worldeconyamynews  Follow

S

🍈  baddestinthesouth  Follow

115,875 notes

🥡  addtocatalogue  Follow

ppl in the “pirate fandom” who only orbit “safe” pirates like cavendish or boa hancock are WEAK. buddy if you saw the pirates i want to fuck you’d hurl.

#pirate fandom #pirates #if he’s eaten a fruit in the last week i do not want him

1,377 notes

💫🔁  sunsetsoveralabasta reblogged

💫  sunsetsoveralabasta  Follow

some homeless guy on horseback gave me a nice looking apple… im hungry and curious.

💫  sunsetsoveralabasta  Follow

hoptal

#in my defense the horse was very cute

874 notes

[tsumuus]

₊✩‧₊˚ 555 follower event ! ˚₊✩‧₊

i just wanna start off by saying tysmmm for even being able to reach this many followers😭!!!!!! i never would have thought my silly little stories would have even gotten as much engagement as they have been. truly so shocked. even tho ive started my senior year and my schedule is starting to fill up i really want to free up some time to do this event for you guys. ive received nothing but support and encouragement from you all and its more then i could have ever asked for! <3

as for the actual event itself, i really don't have a theme, i just want to give you guys a chance to request anything that you'd like (just don't be weird and keep it pg, im 16😓).

this event will last from 9.2.24-9.23.24! feel free to start sending in requests beforehand so i can plan accordingly!

i typically write for mha and hq, but i am willing to write for other fandoms. just ask in your request the character, and if i write it, just depends on whether ive seen that show or not lol!

(follow my first tag to stay updated with this event !)

reblogs are always appreciated <3 !

prompts and event masterlist under the cut !

₊✩‧₊˚ prompts ! ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #1: love languages

in your request, send the character of your choice, your top love language, + any other specific details you'd like me to incorporate

here are some fics i've alr written that follow this prompt: physical touch w bakugou; words of affirmation w kirishima

prompt #2: dialogue/quotes

in your request, send the character of your choice, and any sort of dialogue or quote or something of the sort

examples:

"im not in love with you anymore" "i didnt know you ever were"

"you were everything" "you were a wonderful experience"

"i would've been there for you, through everything" "i thought you knew"

(yes i know these are all tiktok sounds idc its all i could think of)

prompt #3: song lyrics

very similar to prompt #2. in your request, send the character of your choice and any song lyric or song in general you'd want me to incorporate

ive written a good amount of these before but i never really liked how most of them turned out, yet here are a few of my favorites: falling behind, bakugou; pleaser, kaminari; reflections, atsumu

prompt #4: character matchup!

this is something new that i havent tried doing before. in your request, answer the following questions, and add any details you think i should know to help me figure out your perfect match! if you request this prompt i'd prefer you don't do it annomous but it’s up to you!!

questions:

what fandom/anime(like mha or hq) do you want the character i match you up with to be from? would you prefer a character whos male, female, or do you have no preference?

romantic or platanoic matchup?

describe your personality.

your top love languages.

your hobbies/pastimes.

and anything else about you i need to know!!

please be kind and patient with me as i try to figure out and plan everything accordingly thatll also not interfere too much with my schedule! any hate or negativity will result in you getting blocked! that being said, i also dont want to have to deny or delete any requests but my creativity does run out and i do get hit with writers block sometimes so if your request for prompts #1-3 happen to not be working w my brain capacity(???) im sorryyyyy!!

₊✩‧₊˚ event masterlist ! ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #1: love languages

₊✩‧₊˚ akinori konoha + acts of service ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ tenya iida + quality time ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ hitoshi shinsou + physical touch ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ keiji akaashi + words of affirmation ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ katsuki bakugou + acts of service ! ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #2: dialogue/quotes

₊✩‧₊˚ toru oikawa + “you don’t hate me” “i could never hate you” ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ neito monoma + "im not in love with you anymore" "i never knew you were" ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ katsuki bakugou + “i wanted her to look at me, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair’ ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #3: song lyrics

₊✩‧₊˚ izuku midoriya + sailor song ! ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #4: character matchup!

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #1 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #2 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #3 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #4 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #5 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #6 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #7 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #8 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

[canonicallyobserving911]

My response to a comment on AO3 about Buddie.

I haven't posted a lot since mid season 7 because I didn't want to and with all the toxicity that's been in the fandom, I chose to stay away. However, I kept writing fanfic and for the foreseeable future, I will continue to do so.

Recently, someone asked me a question in the comments of one of my fanfics regarding if I thought Buck and Eddie could get together in season 8 and it be handled in a way that would make sense and I provided a long response. Since I like it and it includes a lot of the things I've been wanting to say for a while, I decided to post it here but it's under the cut.

Please note, these are my opinions and they’re based on my interpretations of the show. No one has to agree and it's ok if they don't since everyone is entitled to their own opinions.

My comments about this topic are my own so read at your own risk.

Finally, don't start any BS in my reblogs because if anyone does, they'll be blocked like the thousands of others who have been since 7x4. I'm a proactive blocker and I block based on filtered tags for multiple reasons but mainly to keep toxicity away from my blog.

~~~

Thanks for the response. My answer to your question, is yes, I do believe it can happen in the episodes allotted in season 8 for multiple reasons. (These are my opinions.)

First, the stage has already been set for Buck and Eddie to enter a romantic relationship and it has been for years. It was supposed to happen after season 4 but the previous network wouldn't let it so it got delayed. The foundation of the love they have is already there and it has been since season 2.

Second, there's a thing called timing and the window of opportunity is closing. As mentioned in my initial response to you above, season 8 is it for a lot of viewers and I’m not just talking about Buddie shippers. Most of the GA watch the show for the emergencies, therefore there's not a whole lot of time they can dedicate to Buck’s and Eddie’s individual storylines before more people will start tuning out and turning off their TVs. None of the characters are growing professionally so, the show is getting stale with the rehashed storylines especially for all the mains.

Third, since the foundation is set, they need to get rid of Tommy’s character now and let Buck admit on screen that Eddie’s attention is the person's he was after not Tommy’s. It's time to stop using metaphors and underlying meanings and let him specifically acknowledge it without someone coercing him into it. Honestly, I wish they'd let him figure it out on his own without talking to someone else. He didn't end things with the first T.K. in season 5 because he was unhappy like he should have so it would be GREAT if he admits it now.

Fourth, Eddie needs to admit Buck’s the person whose had his heart this entire time. Also, it's time for Buck and Eddie to talk on-screen and discuss the fact that Eddie gave it to Buck back in season 3. He needs to stand up to his parents again like he did before he moved to L.A. and tell them they don't get a do over with his son. Furthermore, EVERYONE is tired of Eddie misremembering his failed marriage and it’s time for him to talk to his son about Shannon. He needs to stop remembering her as this perfect person when they both made mistakes. He should have told Chris about it in 7x1 instead of just giving him the letter she wrote. Chris is not a baby anymore and he should be told about his mother so he can grieve for her and understand she was young and she made mistakes too.

Fifth, Chris going back to L.A. is critical for many reasons but mainly because he’s missing and based on the audience's reaction to the way he wouldn’t talk to Eddie in 8x1, a lot of viewers don't like the fact that he's separated from his dad. Eddie’s a single father and Buck’s been coparenting Chris with him for years. The Buckley-Diazes are an integral part of the show and the longer they keep the three of them away from each other, ratings will suffer. The GA loves their family dynamic too and the absence of it is being felt the same way the absence of Buck and Eddie scenes were felt in season 6.

Sixth, it's evident the showrunner knows all of this otherwise, if the "X" leaker is right and all the former writers have been termed from the show, then he hired new people to breathe new life into it so their story can move along.

All of the points above lead to one thing and one thing only, CANON Buddie and if they aren't going to go there, then they need to admit it so people can decide if they want to keep watching 9-1-1 on their own. The days of people hanging on and watching shows for top billed actors are over. Law & Order SVU is a testament to that. It's been on for 26 years and they’ve been dragging out Benson and Stabler this whole time. IMO, they've missed the window of opportunity for them but they haven’t for Buck and Eddie.

Thanks for commenting and have a great day.

[ihavethedreamies]

Challenged | Easy to Expert (3 v5)

Lee Yongbok (Felix) & Lee Minho (Lee Know) - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.1k

Hard Dom!Lee Know/Switch!Felix/Sub!Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Kinda Fluff

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Jealousy, Competition, Swearing, Kissing, Lingerie, Multiple Partners, Some M/M Moments, Oral (M! and F! Receiving), Fingering, Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal Play, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (Bad Idea, Don't Do It), Felix is a Bratty/Reluctant Sub (it's not Non-con, he's just surprised)

Author's Note: -)w(- don't ask, I just let my fingers type

-> Series Hub <-

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Han <-

-> Ver. Changbin <-

-> Ver. Bang Chan <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Do I get to choose her lingerie?" Minho smirked, trying to tease Felix. He wanted to get some kind of reaction from him, he so easily asked the older man to fuck his girlfriend with him, but he just shrugged.

"If you want. I was going to have her dress like a bunny-"

"That works!" Minho smiled, already thinking stuff over in his head.

"So…are there any ground rules?" The older man asked and Felix looked up from his phone. He was texting you that the plan was on.

"Um. Maybe, we'll talk with her. Are you free tomorrow night?"

"I can be free tonight." He smirked, chewing aggressively on his snack.

"Don't you have practice?" Felix looked up at him, he was supposed to help with the rookies he was choreographing for. He shrugged, popping another piece in his mouth.

"I can move the time."

"Okay."

"Tonight?" You halted your chopping knife, looking down at your phone on the counter. You had it propped up so he could see you on the video call and it looked like he was sitting on a swing at a park.

"Is that okay? I know we agreed on tomorrow but he moved his schedule."

"He's eager." You huffed, putting the knife down entirely. There was no point continuing cooking supper if he was coming over, not for what you were making anyway. You only had enough ingredients for you and your boyfriend.

"Will he be here to eat or come later?"

"I don't think he'll want to eat when he gets here, not with what's planned. I'm meeting him later and we'll eat and then come." He brushed a strand of his blonde hair that fell in his face from the wind.

"Okay."

"Did the bunny set fit?"

"Yeah. I'll be read by when, seven?"

"Perfect. Love you." He brought the phone close to his face and you giggled blowing a kiss to him and you hung up. Guess it was a delivery night.

You adjusted your headband, the tall bunny ears attached made your head feel odd when you moved it. You hoped it didn't fall off. The fluffy end of the bunny tail you attached to the silicone plug tickled your skin. The combined corset and bra was a little too nice, you had tie it up in the back. At first you were going to get the cheap one that was kind of shiny, but Felix told you to take his card and get the nicer leather one. There was a matching thong that went with it, but you got a different pair of panties. They had to be crotchless and allow for your tail plug. Looking in the mirror, you smoothed your hair back and tied it up into a bun. The thigh-high fishnets were a bit difficult to get on since the weave was pretty loose, your toes kept getting caught. You debated getting a pair of high heels to finish the look as well, but decided against it. Sure, it would be sexy, but there was a pretty good chance you would twist your ankle or fall and ruin the mood. You debated putting on some lipstick but decided against it, the red would kind of clash with the mint colored lingerie. You were kind of surprised it came in that color, but it seemed you could either get dark like red, black or navy, or get pastel colors. Luckily, they had Minho's favorite color, you always remembered it since it was a pretty unique pick. At first you didn't think the black choker with Felix's name on it would match, but it didn't look too bad. You jumped a bit in excitement when you heard your boyfriend keying in the code for your door and you waited patiently in your room.

"Hyung wait!" You heard Felix shout and you giggled a bit, hearing another set of steps hurrying down the hall. Your door was already propped open, and he nearly slammed it open all the way. Minho stood there, still in his coat and had his bag on his shoulder, at least he took his shoes off. His bag thumped to the floor and you didn't think his coat had even hit the floor too before you were scooped up in his arms. You knew he was strong, but he did it so easily.

"Hyung!" Felix huffed, coming in himself and grumbled, shoving his friend's stuff to the side. You squealed in delight as he kissed you all over your neck and chest, holding on to his shirt to stabilize yourself. Minho's mouth led from your cleavage up to your chin and before he could capture your lips in his, Felix shouted as deep as he could, "Yah, Lee Minho!" This caught both of your attention and he slowly and carefully let you down and you took a step back, looking down shyly.

"Come here, love." Felix's tone was dark and you shivered, scurrying over to him. Minho scoffed, still smirking.

"She is all dressed up for me, isn't she?"

"Keep in mind, she's my girlfriend." Felix emphasized. He didn't care if Minho was older than him.

"What are the rules, love?" Your boyfriend's tone and gaze softened dramatically for you, but his gaze hardened again when he met Minho's stare.

"One!" You held up a finger, then brought it to your lips, "no kissing here." The older man seemed to pout a bit but acquiesced.

"Two!"

"Listen to me." Felix was sure to get pushback on that from. Sure did. Minho rolled his eyes, scoffing again, then shook his head.

"Why should I?"

"Because-"

"I'm his girlfriend." You crossed your arms and his fiery gaze went to you. The look was dominating, even more so than when Felix got rougher with you. Your cunt clenched and the fluffy white tail shook. He smirked when you shrunk some, your arms falling and you placed them behind your back.

"Third…" You started, almost sheepish under the harsh gaze.

"Only I, me, her boyfriend, gets her ass." Felix emphasized. He knew that one would piss Minho off. He was an ass man in all kinds of ways.

"No." The older man sneered and you took a step back. You weren't scared of it, it was incredibly sexy how he was getting and you were nervous for how it affected you.

"Hyung-"

"No." He reiterated and you felt Felix stiffen next to you. It was easy for him to be dominant with you, you were his cute little girlfriend, plus he never went too hard. Minho was extremely dominant even in non-sexual situations. He could also be terrifying.

"Look, I know she wanted you, but if you don't respect that she's mine-" Felix was cut off when Minho suddenly marched forward and buried his hand into Felix's blonde hair, tugging his head back. You startled and Felix wasn't quite sure what to do, so he just stared at this hyung in shock.

"I get to call the shots, 'Lix. You should have known when you asked me." He whispered into your boyfriend's ear and the younger man shuddered a bit, which made Minho smirk. He ran his tongue over the stud in Felix's ear, sucked on it, then let him go and shoved him back. You stood nervously nearby and Minho crooked his finger for you. Looking at Felix as you went forward, Minho pointed to the floor and you slowly sank down. There was no hesitation in your gaze, nor protest, and the older man smirked, biting his bottom lip. You cast a glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend, the ears of your headband bouncing with the movement. He was standing there, red dusted over his freckled cheeks, his hand over his mouth. You glanced down and he was already hard. You startled when Minho's fingers played with the tag on your choker, humming in derision.

"Strip." Minho ordered and Felix snapped his gaze up to the other man's before he removed his shirt and let his pants fall around his ankles.

"Get the stuff." He motioned his head toward your bed and your boyfriend slowly followed the command and you wondered what was going on in his head. Felix got out the lube bottles you had so he could pick. Minho clicked his tongue and went over to the other guy before he could shut the drawer. He smirked seeing everything you had in there.

"Oh, what's this one?" He chuckled and Felix tossed you a look. Are you okay? You nodded in response to his silent question. You shot it back to him and he exhaled and nodded, his cheeks a bit red again. Minho pulled out the item he was eyeing and your eyes flew open. So did your boyfriend's.

"Good boy?" He tossed the younger man a look and his face got even redder, the color spreading to his ears and neck.

"W-we got the wrong one-" You tried to cover but it didn't work. It was kind of a joke when you grabbed it. He had joked that he wanted to see why it felt so good for you so you got matching ones. The 'good girl' plug had obviously been used so it was in your box instead of the original packaging. Minho fiddled with the box, shooting a look to Felix. You couldn't see what Felix did in response since his back was to you. Suddenly, the elder grabbed the orange bottle of lube and placed it and the box in Felix's hands.

"Put it in." He ordered and you looked back and forth between them.

"W-What?" Felix gasped.

"You heard me." Minho spun him around and shoved him toward the bathroom. You looked at Felix again, but he went, shutting the door. You were a bit shocked, and were snapped out of it when Minho's hand went to your head. You hadn't noticed he had removed his own clothes, leaving just his underwear on. Turning to look up at and over him, you admired his physique. He really did look good and you couldn't help but wonder why he didn't show off more.

"Good bunny," he cooed, stroking under your chin, "You thirsty?" You nodded, a little unsure. His hand went from your chin to grab your jaw, his eyebrow raising. You caught his hint and brought your hands up to remove his boxers. Your nails were painted to match your outfit and he couldn't help but watch the white fluffy ball sticking out behind you. When he stepped out of his final garment, you eyed his cock, shuffling in anticipation. You simply opened your mouth, tongue out and he huffed in amusement.

"What a good bunny." He smirked and took the chance. One hand held the base of his cock and the other found your head and you took a deep breath in through your nose and he groaned as he made you swallow his length. When your nose hit his pelvis, you gagged a bit, he was longer than you were used to. Your mouth was so tight and hot, he wondered what your other holes would feel like. It was clear that you were experienced with sucking cock, even more so with getting your face fucked. Your eyes cast to the side when the bathroom door opened back up, and Minho pulled his cock out just enough so you could breathe.

"It in?" He asked Felix. It seemed there a blush covering more of him than not. His underwear was still on, more likely he put it back on, his cock was still hard and tenting the fabric. He nodded once, glaring at Minho.

"Get over here then," He stroked over your hair, still not moving. Felix shuffled over, looking much like you probably did the first time you moved with a plug in. The one he had to wear was smaller than yours by quite a bit, but it was probably still odd. Minho nodded and your boyfriend sunk to his knees behind you and you couldn't see his expression but heard his grunt.

"Fill her cute little cunt for me, 'Lix." He stroked your chin again, marveling at your swollen lips surrounding his swollen cock. You whimpered a bit, but adjusted your position to allow it. Since you did that, Felix knew you were okay. His breathing a little heavy, trying to get used to the plug he had put in himself. It was a really odd sensation and he was loathe to admit not an unwelcome one. He wondered if it felt the same to you or not. He stared at the white fluff on the end of your plug and rubbed the head of his cock against your folds, simply unbuttoning the front of his boxers. He did not want to take them off, still embarrassed. If he really, really was against it, he could have said it, even though Minho was scary. He didn't want to admit how he really felt. You moaned a bit and the elder huffed a laugh before you moaned louder and harder when Felix filled you with a single thrust. He sighed, brow furrowing, the stimulation from your hot cunt around him as well as the plug in his ass, he was sweating already. Minho scoffed and you nearly yiped when he started to thrust again, your eyes nearly crossing. You hadn't yet done anything like this and it was a lot. Swallowing and taking a cock at the same time as the silicone plug… You were in heaven.

"You thirsty, bunny? Want me to come down your throat?" Smirked and you moaned a yes around him. Felix still hadn't moved, trying to get used to all the stimulation.

"Ah, good bunny." Minho threw his head back, holding your head and you clenched hard around Felix's cock, swallowing the thick cum the other man gave you. He chuckled breathily, pulling out of your mouth and you panted hard, trying to get your air back. You gasped as Felix fell back on his haunches, but he lost his balance and he held you to his chest tighter. His teeth sank into your shoulder, he was trying not to moan himself. Never again was he letting Minho do this with you again. And he was throwing away the 'good boy' plug immediately when he was done. Why does it feel good? He grumbled in his own mind.

"Felix?" You asked, worried, wincing a bit from the bite. His cock was already pulsing like he was close and he hadn't even moved. The way he held you jostled your tail plug, but you were used to the feeling and he wondered how long it took you.

"Clean her face." Minho ordered and Felix sat up more, letting out a little groan, and wiped the rest of the cum from your lips. He shot a glare at Minho who nodded once and he huffed, bringing his thumb to his lips to clean it off. He continued to glare at his friend and you were so distracted by their interaction, you yiped when Felix moved again. He laid flat on his back, adjusting his feet, the pumped his hips up hard into you.

"Fuck~" You wailed and Minho could see your cunt drip all over the other's cock. He was a little annoyed that Felix just doing something small got you so close so fast. Felix needed to compensate for the submissive acts Minho forced him into by fucking his cute little love. You had a hard time holding yourself up as he battered his cock against your cervix, your orgasm approaching quickly, as usual.

"Want me to fill you up, love?" He huffed, more confidence present in his voice between grunts.

"Yes~ Please~!" Your stuttering moans pissed Minho off, and he came forward, snatching you under the arms like a child and hauled you off Felix.

"Ah!" You yelped and Felix snapped, "What the fuck, man?" You were literally tossed onto the bed and Felix got up, moving to shove Minho out of the way. You gasped when the older man grabbed Felix by the jaw, easily holding him in place.

"If you hate having that plug in your ass you better shut up before my cock ends up in your mouth." He sneered at the younger man and you gaped, but noticed an extra drop of precum leak out of the tip of your boyfriend's cock.

"You gonna calm down?" Minho finally asked as Felix swallowed hard, then nodded. He pulled back, rubbing at where he had been held.

"H-hey!" There was no fire behind your protest, and it was kind of late, but you had to work up the courage. Both of them turned to look at you and you cowered under Minho's gaze.

"L-let him be!" You tried to be assertive but it was a little difficult for you normally, let alone in that situation. To show your aggression you ripped the headband off and threw it to the floor.

"Bunny, if he hated it so much he would be fighting back more." Minho cast a smug look over the younger man who glared at him, if only to avoid your gaze.

"It's fine, love." He assured you and you wiggled your nose a bit, much like a bunny.

"Move, cutie." Minho finally turned away Felix and you scooched out of the way so he could climb on the bed, resting his back against the head board. He grabbed your hips and drug you to him, making you kneel before him. Your boyfriend stayed where he was, nervous to do something wrong.

"Breathe, pretty." Minho coached and you did so and he pulled the bunny tail out of you and tossed it to the floor, the lube still dripping of it splattering on the floor. He smirked at the sight and you whimpered under his gaze. Grabbing your shoulders, he manhandled you again, making you straddle him, his legs holding yours open.

"Fucking finally~" He cooed, bringing your slicked up pucker to his cock. You whimpered as he pulled you down on to him, your body shook as he went deeper than you were used to. You made sure to keep your breathing controlled to get used to him and you wondered what he would let Felix do. Your empty cunt was on display and still desperately empty after you were plucked from your boyfriend's grasp and cock.

"Taste her." Minho permitted and Felix exhaled, still kind of hating (but also kind of enjoying) being told what to do…with HIS girlfriend. He climbed onto the bed and Minho wrapped his arms around you, one over your chest and the other around your stomach. It wasn't tight or restricting, he was just hugging you. He smirked over your shoulder as Felix eyed where Minho's cock was inside of you. It irked him to no end. He made the rule that only he got your ass for a very specific reason. Well, at least he knew how to make you cum easy. You keened for his fingers when they pressed at your cunt and he slid three in, quick and hard. Your yelped, trying not to clench around Minho too much, and even though it was just his fingers, the double penetration was overwhelming. Plus, Felix normally started with two fingers. The other man was a little shocked when Felix began to fuck you with practiced motion, wiggling his fingers and pressing hard on your back wall. Your breath was already hitching and your cunt was already leaking. Felix smirked smugly, knowing he still had control over you even if his own was taken over himself.

"Ah~" You mewled when his fingers pressed down on the thin wall of your cunt, Minho's cock sitting inside you past the barrier. Even he grunted a bit at the feeling, and, not wanting to be one-upped, he began to roll his hips up, fucking shallowly into you.

"Fuck!" You gasped and Felix bit his lip, eyes flicking to your face. He smirked and it pissed his friend off, but then he leaned down to your cunt. His thumb brushed over your clit and you knew what was coming."

"W-wait~!" Felix could tell your tone was insincere, you were just overwhelmed. His fingers crooked up, easily finding your spot, and after he sucked hard over your little button, you fell apart. The man behind you grunted at the force of your vice clenching around his cock, but was able to hold back. As you panted, coming down from your high, Felix removed his fingers and habitually brought them to your mouth. You eagerly took his digits between your lips, licking your own release from them.

"Good, love." Having nearly forgotten about the toy inside him, Felix winced when he shifted, but was too determined to really focus on it. Not even looking to the elder for permission, he once again pressed his cock into your cunt, filling you easily. Your head fell back against Minho's shoulder, your breath leaving you as you felt both cocks filling you at once.

"Breathe, love." Felix coached and you did so. Your boyfriend smiled, feeling grounded by the trust you had in him and the love behind your eyes. Minho did nothing, still trying to cope with how much tighter you got when your boyfriend entered you as well. Though they didn't coordinate it on purpose, both of the men pulled their hips back at once and fucked back into you hard. Felix smirked as you fell apart again, your cunt releasing spurts of cum. At that angle, your boyfriend could hit your sweet spot perfect, and the added stimulation of his friend in your ass set you over even more. But to Felix, it was more like Minho was a toy you were using to get off. It was ultimately him who got you to cum. Your hands reached up and gripped Felix's shoulders, he guided your hands further and you dug your mint-colored nails into his back. He hissed when you drug new red welts into his skin over ones there from a few days before. His friend didn't like the chemistry between you two at that moment, so he lifted you up as he pulled back, nearly all the way, then slammed back into you. He chuckled at your near scream and Felix was a little worried about you, but he then realized you were just high on cock, your filter gone. You were babbling then and fell back into Minho's chest, pulling your boyfriend with you. He had to rest his hand on the headrest by the other's head for better leverage and their eyes met. Minho smirked which made the younger sneer. You whimpered as they both fucked you, either on their own would have made you stupid, let alone together. You were sure that you would be bedridden for days after this, but you loved every second of it. When Felix leaned over you more, he opened his eyes and was close to Minho then. He was determined to stay strong and just stared at his hyung. Accepting the challenge, the other's arm left you and he smirked, grabbing Felix's butt over his boxers had refused to take off. His fingers spread more, and found the hard end of the plug through the fabric and pushed into Felix. The sound he let out was still low and deep, but was more of a whine then anything. What shocked him more was that the other man swallowed the sound, his lips sealing over his. You were too fucked out to notice and Minho pulled away, grinning like he just won an Olympic medal. Felix's freckled face was painted bright red, staring in shock at Minho. The smirk was still plastered on his face and he pressed the plug into Felix more.

"Cum." He ordered and you were sure if he was talking to you or your boyfriend, but you both listened. Your cunt clenched around your boyfriend's dick, milking him for every drop. The walls of your ass clenching also sent Minho over the edge and he made sure to fuck his cum as deep into you as he could. The three of you laid in a pile, panting for a good minute.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm throwing it out."

"Why?"

"You damn well know why!"

"But you liked it, right?"

The two continued to bicker as you slept, laying on your stomach with an ice pack resting on your sore little butt.

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

[2baabbies]

skz bingo; #7, she/her pronouns, with chan?? maybe some sort of bookstore meet cute where reader can't reach a certain book that's on a shelf just out of her reach, but chan is a little taller than her so he manages to crowd against her back and grab the book for her?? 👀 I don't mind either sfw or nsfw, whichever feels like it fits the fic best!

my dear, I couldn’t make chan taller for fear of excluding the tall girlies ;w; but I think I still worked it in well. and I hope you like hyunlix, because they’re in the background fulfilling my bookkeeper/florist couple fantasies. I also split the difference between n/sfw with extraflirty!chan, enjoyyy 🫶🏻

🖤 read me like a book (bangchan x reader) 🖤

Pairings: chan x reader, background hyunlix

Words: 1170 (I gave up on the world limit)

Humour + Suggestive (no smut) + Fluff

fem!reader

Request guidelines here!

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

Felix has been flirting with Hyunjin for over ten minutes, which is only a problem for you because he is sitting on the only ladder in the entire bookstore. The shop owner sits on the middle rungs as the florist leans against the wall and dramatically tells him about his morning. Felix clutches the bundle of white and yellow daffodils Hyunjin brought for him to his chest with a dreamy smile.

Residing on one of the upper shelves, out of your reach, is a new romance novel that you came to purchase. You steal a glance at Hyunjin and Felix, then continue glaring at your target. Now, it was not just the minor inconvenience souring your mood, but the envy of seeing the two men together. You felt incredibly unlucky in comparison to the perfect couple chatting away in the corner. You were tired of reading about romance, and more than ready to find it for yourself.

The tips of your fingers just brush the spine of one of the copies as you try again, and you sigh in defeat. Climbing the shelf would be entirely too hazardous, although you are getting desperate enough at this point to try it. You had been waiting for this book for months. But, as miserable as you were, you refused to interrupt Felix and Hyunjin.

“Hey there,” You look over your shoulder to face the man that speaks to you, “You, uh, look like you could use a little help?”

“I’ve got it.”

The speed in which you turn away is criminal. The stranger is incredibly handsome, and you would be damned if you let the cutest man to ever walk into this bookstore see the smut you were trying to pull off the shelf. He clears his throat gently and you peek over your shoulder at him.

“Hm, are you sure? I’ve got to grab something up there anyway.”

“O-Okay. I-If you wouldn’t mind…”

You are about to move when the man drops a stepstool behind you and springs onto it with ease. He braces one hand over your shoulder and leans in, his chest brushing against your back as he grabs the books. Your breath catches as he hops down again, and you will yourself to breathe as you turn around. You inhale sharply as he does not hand the book over to you, but flips through it instead. He then reads that lovely little page of content warnings- mainly kinks- listed by the author at the beginning of the book.

Your face burns as he hums and casually places it in your hand.

“Here’s your book.”

“It’s not mine,” You blurt quickly.

“Oh? Did you want a different one?”

You clutch it to your chest.

“N-No! I-I’m buying it… for my friend. I don’t read this stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” There is a troublesome little glint in his eye, “That’s a shame. That author is quite popular. Maybe you should give it a try?”

You squirm under his playful gaze. You wish you could just melt into the bookcase to escape this conversation.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“It’s not… realistic…”

His eyebrows quirk but he looks satisfied with your answer. Felix interrupts the tense moment as he begins leaving the bookstore with Hyunjin.

“Hey, Chan, I’m taking my break now. You got an eye on the cash?”

“Yeah, mate, you’re good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Hyunjin gives you an excited wave, which you return shyly, as Felix adds:

“Oh, y/n, I put a book aside for you. It’s behind the counter. Chan, her name is on it.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you,” You murmur.

The doorbell chimes as the door falls shut behind them, and you are left alone with Chan. He kicks up the stepstool and catches it one hand.

“Well, y/n,” He coos in his lovely accent, “I’ll be at the cash if you need anything. Give me a shout if you have any questions, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

He winks and walks behind the counter, settling in and opening the book he pulled from the shelf. You stall for a bit, then steel your nerves and approach the checkout. Chan sets his book aside and smiles as you set yours on the counter. He finds the book Felix set aside for you, and it is the exact same book you pulled from the shelf.

The road to Hell is truly paved with good intentions.

Chan pauses then coyly asks, “I guess you don’t want two of these, hm?”

You puff your cheeks.

“No.”

He chuckles and begins ringing up your purchase.

“Okay, I won’t tease you anymore. You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know?”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

He side-eyes you playfully.

“Alright. Are you paying with cash or card?”

“Cash.”

You quickly pull the bill from your pocket and hand it to Chan. You are both quiet as he makes your change then hands it back to you. You count it then furrow your brow gently.

“Something wrong?”

“Um, it seems… You gave me extra.”

He checks the receipt then looks at your hand as you hold it out to him.

“No, it’s right.”

“You gave me a discount?”

You drop the change in your pocket and accept the book and receipt as he hands them to you.

“Of course. Pretty girls shouldn’t have to pay full price.”

You fluster.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to tease me anymore?”

He rests his chin in his hand and leans his elbows on the counter with a smirk.

“That wasn’t teasing. That was flirting.”

You clutch the book to your chest and duck your blushing face.

“Well…”

He giggles and the charming sound startles you to look up again.

“Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“I-It’s okay.”

“Hm?”

“Uh, you don’t have to stop.”

Chan smiles warmly.

“Only if you like it.”

“I, um, I do.”

“Okay then. Well, I hope your friend likes the book.”

“It’s almost worse when you pretend you don’t know…”

“Well, for the record, I believed you a little bit.”

“Sure.”

“I did,” He purrs, “And I would agree with you. I tried to read those books but they weren’t really my thing.”

“You did?”

“Mhm, like you said: it wasn’t realistic. If you’d like an example of something more realistic though, I’d be happy to show you.”

You roll your eyes as a grin breaks out on his face. Although he delivered the line with confidence, his whole face is flushed like yours.

“I’ll keep that in mind…”

Chan winks as you walk away.

“Have a good day!”

You rush out of the bookstore and pause outside as you notice something sticking out of the book you just purchased. You flip it open to see a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it. You look through the window of the bookstore to see Chan, giving you a fluttery wave as you piece it all together. You huff and cover your face as you stomp away, but you cannot suppress your charmed smile.

[kairiscorner]

idgaf since im korean i feel the need to project this >:3 imagine introducing miguel to korean food I JUST KNOWWW HE’D LIKE KIMCHI IDC i wanna take him on a trip so he could try korean corndogs 💯💯 oh and you force him to watch k drama w you 🤪

OEKDNFKDKKDKDJD YESSSSS

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

imagine him getting jealous if you said you liked a cute kdrama male lead, like...

you'd really pick them over me? – jealous!(kinda petty)miguel o'hara x reader

as you two were watching your comfort kdrama, you were giggling and smiling a whole lot more than you usually do, and it was during every time that one male lead showed up. you couldn't explain the feeling that made you gravitate towards him–was it the fluffy hair on his head, the cute way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his dimples popped out when he grinned so childishly, the bright smile he bore on his face... he was just perfection embodied into a mortal human.

and there was a man who was the same way, just seldom cute and more on intimidating, but still cute sometimes–especially when he's being petty, and that was none other than your lover, miguel o'hara, who was currently pouting up a storm and knitting his thick eyebrows together as he gazed at you admiring the male lead flirting with the female lead on the screen.

oh the envy he was experiencing right then and there, mumbling to himself how much hotter he is compared to this guy, how much realer his love for you is, and how tacky his pickup lines sounded. and he hated how sweet your giggle sounded when you gripped your pillows and smiled wider at the male lead's compliments and flirting. "y'know, i can excite you more by just greeting you in the morning, this guy's got nothing on me." he scoffs as he watches you get all flustered like the female lead was due to the male lead's charms.

miguel folded his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. "you don't have to be so damn excited, he's just a guy." he muttered under his breath as you kept whispering to yourself how cute the guy was, how much you loved him. oh, now miguel refused to be ignored any longer after this; he had to prove he was better than that guy. he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, then he gently grabbed your cheeks and turned your head to look at him.

"listen... i can give you more love on this very night than a guy like that or anybody else can in their whole damn lives. i'll tell you that i love you in more ways than that script he's handed can ever express. i'm here with you tonight, not him, not anyone else." he muttered as he leaned over and gave you a gentle kiss, which carried all the jealousy and passion his heart was filled with right then and there.

the voices and music from the kdrama you two were watching had faded into the background, and the only thing you could hear was miguel's husky whisper as he pulled away and held you close in his embrace.

"soy el que más te quiere."

you felt your whole body freeze up as he kissed down the length of your neck, with your face and upper body feeling heated up and warm–with a bit of fuzziness in your cheeks as he kept muttering how much he loves you, how nobody else can love you with the same vigor and passion as he can.

"is this... because i was giggling about the main guy?" you asked him with a light giggle as miguel stopped and went silent. he paused and pulled away from you and furrowed his eyebrows again, his face becoming more and more flustered as he dwelled on your question. he snapped out of it when you kissed his cheek, with his eyes widening as he looked back at your beaming face. he looked away from you as he uttered a, 'maybe... just a little bit'.

truly, he was a natural at being adorable–especially when he's being all pouty and jealous over a guy you only found nice looking. of course you could never want anyone else but your lover, and he can never love anyone else like how he loves you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @meeom @melovetitties @ophanimgold @popeheywardssecretgf

[thexie-and-stars]

Intro!

@tazmaboxed

I acknowledge the Traditional Owners and Custodians of this country. In particular, I acknowledge the Indigenous Elders of the Wurundjeri people, part of the Kulin nation, where I live and learn and pay my respects to their Indigenous Elders past, present and emerging. Sovereignty has never been ceded. It always was and always will be, Aboriginal land. [credits to @elliewasaghost for the template]

dni: general dni criteria, MAPs, paraphiles [not people with paraphilic disorder], nazis, Radqueers, Radfems, porn bots. if you piss me off, i will block you

FUCK JKR. TERFS, SWERFS AND FARTS CAN GO DIE

THIS USER HAS INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, PLEASE BE MINDFUL

I do not support Neil Gaiman, Always support the victims.

JOIN THIS: GAY DISCORD

IT'S GAY

I do vent posts a lot. If i'm actually in crisis it will be either untagged or tagged with #crisis. if not, please disregard because im just dealing with shit.

I will make moodboards on request SEND ASKS

WILL ALSO GIVE ADVICE

I edit wikipedia and fandom pages, lemme know if there's something wrong on a page and i'll take a look!

I run a tumblr community about special intrests and hyperfixations. If you want to join, DM me or send an ask!

HALLOWEEN SECRET SKETELONS: Asks sent

The theme on my website/tumblr page is not mine, I customized it. the credits are on the website.

art blog: @theo-th3-trans-art-b01

HELP MOHAMMED AND HIS FAMILY SURVIVE!!

emergency ray toro bc i am mentaly silliy

reasons not to kill yourself: Link :3

RIP @venomvolts-deactivated20240803 I hope you re-join tumblr someday, you will be remembered

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx

I realised I haven't done one of these so:

Name: Theo

Nicknames: Thexie, Thex, Bean

Attraction shit: Bi oriented Aro/Ace.

I don't feel like a human, i feel like a silver fox w antlers. If u don't fw that, DNI

Pronouns: He, It, Rot, Vamp, [Ask as my prefernce changes daily, full list of prns on my pronouns page, go to the bottom of the post]

Gender: Rounded version for cis people. Boyflux transmasc, which means my gender fluctuates on the slidy scale between agender and boy.

Actual full decimaled gender: galaxforieliminalfluxboy. made by me!

Demi-verbal and silly :3

Tags i use:

#me and my posts, theo posting, beans posts : my own posts

#my starry angel: interacting w my best friend @a-perfect-imitation

#bean answers an ask: asks

#i can feel a ghostly prescence: interacting w @elliewasaghost [not used much but holy shit it's a great tag name]

#the lurker's here: @touch-starved-lurker

#beans come to visit: @lots-of-lesbeans-2

#cheeky fucker: @cheekyboybeth

#my chappel town and chemical cave: music tag, mainly my own lyrics, poems, talking about my instruments and occasional songs/covers.

#bean's brain: anything about the stuff listed in my TW area.

#theo spoils: used if a thing im ranting abt has not been widly seen yet, for example, a new season of a tv show.

anything to do with bean/theo: read the other bit of the tag

Triggers: Human balls, anything to do w gen alpha lingo, jokes about rape, talking about sexual assault.

General: I am Irish-Australian and I fence. I have a dog and two cats! I am fine for people to send asks or dm me! I do swear a lot but I don't post nsfw. I do sometimes reblog nsfw, nothing too severe. I AM a minor so please be mindful. . I love it when people send me asks! You can also dm me. I will give out my discord on request. I am polyamorous

Diagnosed: ADHD, Anxiety [all 3 types], Asthma, Autism, Chronic fatigue, chronic pain, Deppression, Juvenile Fibromyalgia, Long covid, POTS, Scoliosis, Strabismus, Vision impaired

Probable I have it but not diagnosed yet : BPD,

Special interests: Heartstopper, MCR, Art, Autism, general knowledge.

Current Hyperfocus: stardew valley, dayflower

Fandoms: Dead Boy detectives, Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, The Osemanverse, dead end paranormal park, Nimona, stardew valley, MCR, witherburn afterschool news, GRAVITY FALLS

Interests: Trivia

Likes: Cryptids, Books, My laptop, My friends, Watercolours, Drawing, Eating raw onions, Art, Mushrooms

Dislikes: Jam and butter together, Nausea, bad textures, the popular girls

Music i like: Bears in trees, Cavetown, chappel roan, Dayflower, Evanescence fall out boy, girlinred, Mcafferty, MCR, MotherMother, Penelope Scott, Ricky Jamaraz [i'm gay, what do you expect].

My spotify playlist: Trans Tism songs :3 by Theo The Mothman.

Trivia: I play clarinet, guitar and the drums and I have a pair of mechanical wings I use for cosplay

Trigger warnings for things i might post: self harm, mental illness, suicide, family stuff [my mum's abusive], unreality [weirdcore and dissociation],

Mobility Aids I have: cane, crutches, wrist splints, back brace, wheelchair

Meds I take: ADHD meds, Salt Tablets, Melotonin

@frogofalltime is my dad :D

USERBOXES AND LINKS DOWN BELOW \/

credits going left to right, from top left!

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx, @system-box

@lgbtq-userboxes, @lgbtq-userboxes,

@sweetpeauserboxes, @burntoutuserboxes

@burntoutuserboxes, @xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx,

@esotericalqueer, @esotericalqueer

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx, @cardboard-userboxes

@arcanecollective, @decemberblue

@another-userbox-blog, @sweetpeauserboxes,

@puppyuserboxes, @xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx

@alterhuman-userboxes, @whats-a-human

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx, @burntoutuserboxes

@mogaispiderpunk, @blood-moon-night-coining

@totallypumpkin, @frogsforthefrogwar

LINKS \/

pronouns page

posts I wanna keep

last relapse: 4/11/24

haha idk if i'm gonna make it to graduation

tw for that btw

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

“File” Names

Metal Band AU

Strip Club AU

Sugar baby!Steve/Sugar daddy!Eddie AU

Snippet

“Cher,” Eddie said to Chrissy, “how’s that crush coming now?”

Chrissy hit his arm. “Oh yeah, it was bad when she was just a cute waiter, but now she’s got this weird sibling relationship with the hottest dancer you’ve ever hired, this is way worse.”

“Glad you made the distinction about hired dancer,” he huffed. “If I‘m not the fairest of them all, I start throwing apples.”

Chrissy’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, we should have a fairy tale night where everyone dances to different fairy tales. With your looks you’d be perfect for Snow White. The pale skin, the dark hair, just add the red lips and it would be perfect.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “We could even do it on a Sunday, because most of the fairy tales are about envy right? Snow White, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, even Hansel and Gretel. Start coming up with fairy tales you’d want to do and we start practicing for it.”

“You’ve got it, babe!” Chrissy said with a kiss on his cheek.

****

It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!

You'll notice no Boy w/a Bat this week because I'm too close to the end and don't want it spoiled for you guys.

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

@mira-jadeamethyst @zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate

@acingthecounts @beelze-the-bubkiss @just-a-tiny-void @kultiras @niniel-karenine

[gettinshiggywithit]

! Spending Your Birthday With Chuuya Nakahara !

(pt 1)(pt2)(this is part three)

scenario:- how about this year you spend your special day with the love of your life,chuuya nakahara.

pairing:- chuuya x gn!reader

Spending any day out with chuuya means youre gettin treated.

wine,shoppin or just the arcade,you’ll be doin stuff that you both love(or just stuff that u love that he’s managed to convince you that he likes em too :’) he just loves to see u smile mann)

So you can imagine how perfect he’d make your birthdayy

It’d start with your favourite breakfast spread out on the table

And lemme tell you,he didnt miss Anything!

That coffee you’d wanted to get but couldnt cos it was outta stock? Hes made it

that special bagel or breakfast topping ud wanted to try but had decided wasnt worth the price?hes got a bowl of it

This man rly pulled out all the stops

And its not even 12 pm!

Next you guys had a day out on the townnn

Shopping?goin to watch a movie?just walkin?? Ya’ll are doin it

Like i said,anything to make your day the best ever

(Yall even visited that arcade from season two! Buddy thought he’d be great at the games,buttt he’d kinda lost touch.he absolutely Schooled you on the motorcycle sim thoooo)

And after your little outing he led you back to your shared apartment

and waiting for you out on the couch surrounded by candles and petals of ur favourite flowers was that outfit you’d seen once and loved,but hadnt bought because of the price.(SEE I TOLD U HE WAS PULLIN OUT ALL THE STOPS)

(SAY;THANK YOU TACHIHARA AND HIGUCHII(to clarify,its cos they were the ones who set it all up while u were out!))You got dressed in your fancy new outfit,and headed out to see chuuya in a fancy little out fit of his own

A purple button down,with the first two buttons undone,a tie hanging loosely around his collar.

He held out his hand for you to take and escorted you to his bike.

Next,you headed to a fancy-ass restaurant (which had great wine btw!!!) and he once again,treated you to your choice of wines,appetizers and actual mains + desert

Once you were done,you rode back and he led you over to your balcony,you both sat down on the chairs there and you promptly passed out.(I MEAN WHO WOULDNT BE TIRED AFTER A DAY LIKE THATTT)

Afterwards he ,effortlessly,picked you up and carried you to your room

That night you slept in your fancy-wear

And the next day you woke up with a hang over~

But waking up to eachothers faces made everything better<3

What a birthday ey?

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but these stories? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Comments & Reblogs w/ tags >>>>>>>>>>>likes please

Tag list is open for anyone interested!

[pedrostylez]

Something Else- pt. 3

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: Anna is checking up on you and you don’t know how to move past your history with her. Frankie wants to get to know you more.

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 3.3k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened but is not mentioned as of yet, Fingering, dirty talk, breast play, eating, mentions of missing meals, jealousy, friendship dynamics, fluff, pet names, friendships, jealousy, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Another Frankie Friday, another part of Something Else. I've gone ahead and bumped up to explicit! Please remember that not every chapter will be as such, but the majority will be from this point. Frankie is just….so giving. Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel

You take a deep breath and then wait just a moment, unlocking the door and opening it to Anna standing there with a plate of cookies. Of course, she brought cookies. “Uh, hi.”

“Hey!” She says sweetly, looking around your shoulder as best as she can before looking back at you. “I wanted to check on you.”

You shuffle over to block your door more, listening to see if Frankie is staying quiet-you didn’t tell him he had to be but… “I’m okay. Just…a few more minutes before my shift starts.”

Your lying ability must have improved because Anna looks down at your clothes and assumes that you are dressed for your shift. “I brought your favorite cookies. I thought we could eat some, maybe pour some wine and watch a movie! But if you really have to go to work–”

“I do.” You say quickly, leaning against the doorway and then sighing. You feel bad now, watching her face fall. “I’m sorry, Anna. We can hang out this week, I promise. I’ve just picked up a few extra shifts.” You move out of the way for her to set the cookies on your counter, letting her in for just a minute won’t hurt. 

“It’s okay. I understand.” She sighs, smiling at you. “Are you and Frankie doing okay? I asked him about you the other day, but he didn’t really say anything.”

You’re frozen for a minute, looking past her just enough to see his shoes next to your coffee table, his hat sitting on the couch haphazardly. “I’ve not really talked to him since I picked up those shifts.”

“Not even texted?” She questions, shaking her head. “Babe! You gotta get back out there, and he’s so sweet, he’s perfect for you!”

You nod, clenching your jaw to hold back the “please get out” that wants to bubble over your lips. “We just haven’t had a chance to talk.” You amend, nodding at her briefly as she mulls it over in her brain.

Frankie thinks about listening to you try to get Anna to go away, but his discipline is weak as he sees your bed is unmade, and the papers you have covering your desk are too enticing. He steps towards your desk, glancing over what looks to be notes, picking up the textbook in question to read the front. 

“Preface to Lyrical Ballads.” He says quietly, shrugging to himself before turning back to the page you had it open to. He read to himself “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” before furrowing his brow and setting the textbook back down. Glancing at all of the papers, they were drafts of your own poetry, chicken scratch and highlighted and crossed out. 

He sits gingerly on your bed, but shoots back up when he hears “Is he fucking here?” screeched out by what he assumes is Anna. He whips his head around, finding not many hiding spaces. Your bedframe is low to the ground, with stuff under the bed, and he looks to the bi-fold door, unsure of whether or not he should hide in your closet. 

“No! It’s just his stuff–” He hears you try to cover, footsteps stepping around each other, a quick laugh and mumbling excitedly before he hears a bang on the door. 

He thought he was caught when he heard, “Wait Anna please, my bedroom is a mess. You know I get in those moods–”

“Have you been eating?” Anna asks hushed, clear through the door as Frankie slinks over to the closet and squeezes his shoulders past the bifold doors. He gets past your jacket and shuts the door a bit more, breathing as slowly as he can. 

“Yes! I’ve had a bunch of snacks.” You groan out. Frankie can hear your frustration, can hear you crossing your arms defensively. 

“What, like popcorn and candy?” Anna snarks, a dull thud can be heard. Frankie doesn’t know if it's you leaning against the wall or Anna. 

“Well…maybe but–”

“Frankie!” Anna yells, making him freeze. “Frankie! You need to order takeout! I won’t leave until you respond!”

“Anna, he’s not there–”

“So if I open this door he won’t be there?” Anna says, slamming open the door and pausing, looking around the room. Frankie can see her from the slats in the single closed door of the closet, hoping that Anna doesn’t think to look through his hiding spot. 

You’re looking around too–wide eyed and embarrassed before glancing at the closet. He swears you’ve made eye contact with him through the slats, but you quickly redirect the conversation. “Anna, really. I have to go to work.” You sigh, grabbing her shoulder. “Will you walk with me to my car?”

Anna rubs her lips together before turning around and stomping out of the room. “Can we at least hang out in a couple days? I want you to tell me if I should leave Santi or not for him!”

That’s when Frankie sees it. 

How your face gets beet red, eyes immediately glassy. It’s like you’ve forgotten that Frankie is hiding in your closet and he wants to step out to see if you’re okay but you whip around and follow after her. You slam the bedroom door behind you, leaving him in silence as he waits for any other indication that Anna is still there. 

He creeps out of the closet, hearing your front door shut and a vibration in his pocket. 

Give me 10 minutes. 

He steps out, moving into the kitchen and standing there awkwardly looking at the plate of cookies Anna has left. “I don’t date much so it’s not like she can interfere…” swirls in his head, wondering if that is related to your reaction and what Anna said. 

You’re livid. 

Of course the minute that Anna is sure Frankie isn’t there, she has to say that. Frankie probably thought it was a joke, but you knew better. How do you broach that subject with your best friend? Hey, I don’t like it when you say things like wanting to leave your boyfriend for someone you think I’m seeing. Why? Oh, maybe because of that one time that you literally did? Or the other time…

You know she’s not joking when she says something like that. And it makes your blood boil. 

Driving around the block to pretend you were going to work was your only way to calm down your thoughts when it came to this; you had never told Anna to stop making those types of comments. You told her it was fine when she slept with Brad, and that was your fault. 

You haven’t told her otherwise. You can’t. 

Driving back into your parking spot, you sat there for a moment before climbing out of the car, slamming the door a little harder than you needed to. You didn’t even grab your purse to fake go to work, and you started to wonder if Anna even believed you–

Stepping into your apartment, Frankie is getting off his own phone, turning to you with a smile. “Hey, I ordered some Indian food. I saw the menu and figured you liked it?” He questions, holding up the takeout menu and stepping towards you before leaning against your counter.

You nod, blush creeping back up your cheeks. “You didn’t have to.”

Frankie gives you a small smile, leaning his hands back. “Anna sounded adamant about making sure you eat.” He pauses, giving you a chance to breathe before continuing. “Have you had a whole meal this weekend?”

Your silence is answer enough, kicking off your shoes and noticing his own have been moved to be beside the door. “You can pick the next movie if you’re sticking around.” You mumble, going to step around him. His hand reaches out, grabbing for your wrist again and pulling you to a stop. 

Frankie turns to you, smile still on his face. “Can I kiss you again?” He asks quietly, brushing his fingers over your wrist in small circles before dragging them up your arms. “We were interrupted before.”

Frankie’s ability to distract you from you own thoughts is a talent you wonder if he is conscious of. By the time you’re nodding, Frankie’s hand has climbed up your arm and anchored on the back of your head, guiding you forward to press his lips to yours. He’s caught you off guard and completely relaxed you in a matter of minutes, focusing your thoughts on one thing only, and it has you confused. But, you’re unable to pull away when your eyelashes flutter closed when he sighs against your mouth. 

Frankie let’s out a groan before pulling away, half lidded and looking down at you. “Let’s not get too carried away before food shows up?” He asks, kissing your cheek when you nod back at him. 

“Thank you, for ordering food.” You say quietly, pulling away from him and going back over to the couch. 

Frankie looks hesitant for a moment, stepping toward your living room but remains standing. “Is that normal for you?”

You know he’s referring to you skipping meals, shaking your head quickly.” No, no I just…sometimes I kinda get in this slump.” You reach for one of the blankets to cover your legs so that you don’t have to look at him. “And so it just happens that I am watching TV for too long, or too focused and I forget. So I eat lots of junk food. Not really good for me.”

Frankie’s only response is a hum, watching you from the corner of his eye rearrange the blanket over and over until you’re satisfied. There’s a knock on your door that he immediately goes for, grabbing food and giving the delivery guy a tip before shutting it behind him with his foot. “Well I got chicken tikka masala, naan and rice.” He mumbles, sitting down next to you and pulling out each container; a clear separation of food that was meant to feed the two of you. He turns to you with his eyebrows lowered. “Is this okay?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching forward and taking one of the to-go boxes. “Pick the movie, Frankie.”

Frankie waits for you to finish your food before he finishes his, watching you carefully from his peripheral. He picked out a different movie, The Equalizer, which he knew you weren’t interested in. He wasn’t interested in it either. 

He hoped to either get you talking, or to get you back under him, moaning his name and whining for him. 

He cleared his throat when he set his fork down. “Do you..want to talk about Anna earlier?”

He sees you squint your eyes, breathing lightly out of your nose before turning to him. “What about her?”

His arms are spread wide over the back of your couch, your legs draped across his lap at some point after you finished your food and before he finished his. Your arms are crossing over your stomach, head on the arm rest and your hair fallen out of your face. He takes a deep breath before saying, “She upset you earlier, and I…I want to know what to do about it.”

You sigh heavily, rolling your head back towards the screen. “We’re best friends.” You pause, thinking over what exactly to say to him. “We’ve been through a lot together and I don’t want to lose her.” He nods, waiting for more. He feels like he could wait all day, all night until you tell him what you want from him. “She always gets what she wants.”

He attempts to wait again, but when it’s clear you’ve finished your sentence, he brings his hand down to your knee and gives you a gentle squeeze. “And what do you not like about that, sweetheart?” It feels weird in the pit of his stomach to say it that way, but he doesn’t know how else to. If you’re convinced Anna always gets her way, then who is he to tell you otherwise?

He sees your eyes get glassy, his hands subconsciously squeezing tighter on your leg before rubbing back and forth. “If she decides she wants what I have, then she will take it.” You say just above a whisper, reaching up to wipe at your eyes. 

If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t understand what you mean. His hands continue to rub above your knee, squeezing affectionately as he watches you with a furrowed brow. “What do you have that she wants?”

He doesn’t expect you to laugh, but when you do it's sad, teary. “Nothing at the moment.” You concede, turning back to face him. You sigh again and shake your head. “Just, forget it. I’ll get over it.” You move your legs off his lap, wiping at your eyes and heading towards your hallway to the bathroom. 

He doesn’t like you brushing it off like that, his eyebrows lifting up to his hairline and back down. Without much thought he follows you, wanting to bring the attention away from you being sad. He wants to distract you.

He’s suddenly behind you, wrapping his hand around your shoulder to spin you around, giving you a slight push against the wall. Frankie is quick to wrap his hand up in your hair, holding your head steady as he connects his lips with yours. 

Frankie knows he doesn’t have to understand. But his intention to make you feel good-feel better, still stands. He’s quick to ask permission with his tongue, feeling you breathe out and relax against him, your hands reaching up into his hair and giving it a tug. 

He’s quick to pull away, kissing the crook of your jaw and down your neck, pushing your shirt up again like he had before Anna arrived. “Stay still for me.” He says, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You smile as you struggle to get your hands out of the sleeves, tossing it to the side when he finally has it off of you. “Can I touch you?” He grits, holding himself away from you, one hand leaning against the wall behind you, the other running his thumb under your eyes and over your cheekbones. 

You nod quickly, holding on to his forearm like you need support. He lifts his hand and runs his knuckles down your neck, letting you lift your head to allow him more access. He brushes them over the swell of your breast, dipping to the valley between them and to your belly button. He watches you break out in a shiver, leaning into his hand that is still holding your face. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, you know that?” He says huskily, brushing his thumb back up to your bra and moving the straps down your arms. The cups fall slightly, letting him see more of you. His eyes glance up to yours, blown out and wild with need. He’s gentle as he releases his hold on your cheek, slipping it behind you to undo your bra, kissing at your collarbone. He nips at the skin, bending down to wrap his lips around one pert nipple and hears you inhale in shock. 

Your fingers wrap around the curls of his hair, holding him close to you. “Please, Frankie.” You whine, pushing your hips towards him. 

He groans around you, releasing you with a pop before moving over to the other. “What do you want, baby?” He moans, flicking his tongue over your other breast. Your breath hitches, and his eyes meet yours again just as you’re biting at your lip, red and swollen. 

“More.” Is all you can get out, clutching on to him tighter. Frankie lets his fingers trail down to your jeans, lowering the zipper and undoing the button before standing up straight again. 

Your head thumps against the wall as he doesn’t wait to pull your pants off, only pushing his fingers into your underwear and pressing the pad of his middle finger against your slit. “So wet.” He breathes, sliding his finger up and down from your entrance to your clit before giving light circles around you. “So perfect like this.”

Your jaw goes slack at the sensation, eyes closing and holding on to his shoulder like your life depends on it. He leans forward and kisses at the corner of your mouth, licking at your bottom lip with a small smile. “Think you can come like this for me?”

You’re quick to nod, frantically clutching at his shirt. “Yes, yes, please–Frankie–”

He shushes you, moving his finger faster over your clit before dipping down to your entrance and pushing in slowly. “You’re okay baby, just enjoy it. Want you to feel good.” He mumbles out, speeding up his movements, curling his finger while pushed inside you. He feels the slight shake of your legs when he does this, licking a stripe up your neck to whisper in your ear. “So fucking hot like this, aren’t you? Do you want to come?”

You whine out a small “yes”, curling forward to press your forehead against his shoulder. He feels you shudder, moaning out his name like a chant as your walls clench around his finger, tightening and squeezing around him. 

When you finish, breathing heavily and leaning away from him, he is quick to cover your mouth with his, biting at your lip and slowly removing his hand from your pants. He pulls away, breathing just as heavily as you. “Did that feel good?”

You don’t answer immediately, hands unsure where to go until they settle at the button of his pants. He meets your grip, holding you tight to communicate that it isn’t needed. “What about you?” You ask quietly, looking down to see the clear strain in his pants pressing against his zipper. 

He shakes his head, pulling your hands away. “Go out with me.” He states, watching your eyes flick back up to his. 

You furrow your brow, a small smile creeping up your face. “What? Frankie–”

“Just you and me.” He says, leaning heavily against you, his forehead resting on yours. “You tell me when.”

You laugh, resting a hand against his chest before looking down at yourself. “Can I wear a shirt?”

Frankie feels the blood rush up to his head, a blush on his cheeks as he laughs with you. “If you insist, hermosa.”

When Frankie leaves, hat in his hands and boots untied, he is adamant about you telling him when he can take you out. He wants no pressure from the guys or from Anna, to just “get to know each other” and it makes you swoon at the thought of spending time with him again, like you had today. 

You’re shoving a cookie that Anna had left for you to eat into his hand, telling him its partial payment for him buying the takeout to feed you. He scoffs, taking a bite before pulling you towards him and pecking your mouth with his. “Text me, cariño.” 

“Okay.” You say quietly, waiting to shut the door before he is out of sight down the sidewalk to his truck. 

Shutting it behind you, you take a deep breath, wondering what exactly happened today. Picking your phone up off the counter, you read the text messages you missed. 

Anna: Let me know what time this week we can hang :) 

Anna: Santi told me that Will and Benny were out drinking with Frankie, if you wanted to let him know where his stuff was ;)

You scoff, rolling your eyes setting your phone back down, and grabbing one of the cookies. As you take another bite, you look up to your coffee table to see Frankie’s shirt still sitting there, rolled up like he was going to take it with him but forgot it. Your phone vibrates again. 

Frankie: What about Friday night?

You smile to yourself, typing out a message back. 

You: Sounds like a date :) 

[saytrrose]

Hey it’s been awhile since you reblogged that one nsfw ask meme yk what, fuck it why don’t you answer all of them with whatever ship you want 👀

HAHAHAAH OHHH ANON THIS TOOK MULTIPLE DAYS I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY WITH CHESSPIECES-

———

CHECKMATE NSFW ASK MEME (KINGER X QUEENIE)

———

1. What was their first time like?

Kinda awkward at first, their first time together was Kingers first time with anyone. It was mostly just testing waters, slow and sweet and obviously not perfect but one time turned into another time and another so it must’ve not been that bad !! There was definitely a lot more communication and talking than actions in itself, learning about eachother and what they liked as they don’t immediately know right off the bat, and Kinger barely knows himself anyway.

2. Who usually initiates things?

Queenie is more assertive and overall confident. She usually starts things, but Kinger is not unknown to also do so.

3. How often do they have sex?

Not often actually, it’s not something super important to them in the first place but also, living in the circus kinda sucks and there’s not really a lot of free time in order to do so❗️💔

4. Who is louder/noisier?

Here!

5. Who is more sensitive?

Kinger probably.

6. What's foreplay often like?

They have a lot of prep, after all they are never in a rush. Lots of soft kisses all over, slowly trailing down and massaging- teasing- the teasing is definitely Queenie. Kinger just can’t, is Queenie wants something you mean he has to say no? But yeah, lube, condoms, all the wonderful things before they get into the real thing.

7. Favorite place to have sex?

They’ve probably only done it in their rooms before but for the sake of this question can you imagine if one time they snuck away mid-adventure during the day to like.. the castle or just into the hallway and Queenie pushed Kinger against the wall or hid in there and was being real risky? I’d say they could’ve done something like that once which Queenie loved, but Kingers far too paranoid so he’d prefer their bedrooms.

8. Favorite position to have sex?

Basic/Common positions- Kinger likes missionary most because he’s a vanilla loser but Queenie also loves doggy, pretzel dip, cowgirl- silly silly things that she can’t decide a favorite.

9. Who's best at oral sex/oral headcanons?

This is so funny thinking of them as chesspieces bro anyway I’ll say Queenie.

10. Who's more likely to tickle their partner?

Kinger might to make Queenie laugh a bit but I don’t see tickling to do with anything sexual w them.

11. Who's more romantically sexual?

I’m honestly going to say Kinger, and my reasoning is that Kinger prefers to be more slow and sweet, and Queenie loves that but also when she’s topping then she’s much rougher and quicker. Doesn’t have to do much with romance at first glance but I think with Kingers mannerisms, he draws things out longer.

12. Who's better at dirty talk/dirty talk headcanon?

Queenie hahhaHa but they don’t degrade, they are huge on praise. Kinger gets nervous but he’s still good at it, mumble in between kisses compliments usually- how she’s so pretty and beautiful. Queenie is much better, because she can suppress her noises more easily and focus on her talking. She praises him constantly over every little thing because Kinger always gets unbelievably flustered. While Kinger usually just sticks to small compliments, Queenie likes to comment more on the direct situation- like “you’re doing so good,” “That’s it, you’re such a pretty boy,” “you’re so cute looking up at me like that,” HAHAH and more yk yk.

13. Do they have sexual nicknames or titles?

Here!

14. Who's more likely to be caught masturbating?

I wanna say Queenie because she’s the more sexual one but I also wanna say Kinger because he’s.. not smart idk. Mf would forget to lock the door so yeah. Kinger.

15. Who looks at porn more?

They can’t look at porn in the circus, I’m almost positive Caine wouldn’t allow that lol.

16. Who usually cums first?

Kinger, just by using the logic of men vs women in that area. It’s much much easier and common for the men to..

17. How long can they go?

Kinger is wiped after just one round- I think Queenie could go maybe 3 before she’s sore.

18. What are their safewords?

Here!

19. Any routines?

Ummm I don’t think so! They don’t really stick to the same one thing over and over. However maybe aftercare. It’s very very important to them, and they always take a lot of time to clean up and check in on one another.

20. Do they have a dynamic (Dom/sub) or are they versatile?

Versatile for the most part but Queenie does tend to lean towards dominant and Kinger leans more submissive with his behavior.

21. What roleplay scenarios do they have/want?

I don’t think they really roleplay anything? (This is an excuse to not think hard about it because hhh idk!)

22. What sextoys do they use?

I doubt sex toys are a thing in the circus as well but for the sake of this question I’ll say a strap or vibrators. Haha.. ha.. Queenie… strap..

23. Who, if anyone, would they most likely bring in to join them?

Here!

24. Shared kinks/fetishes?

They are drastically different when it comes to this, Kinger is pretty vanilla and Queenie is quite kinky, however they do both love and share a praise kink.

25. Something they tried and won't do again?

Oh man. Maybe risk play? Queenie thought it’d be super exciting, the thought of almost getting caught but it freaked Kinger out so much they might’ve had to stop. Poor guy is too paranoid for that.

26. What would each member say their favorite thing about the other(s) is?

Kinger would say her eyes, her voice, he’d ramble on and gush about her every feature and aspect of her appearance and then Queenie would be the sort to write on a piece of paper “tits or ass” and write personality instead, and then check off “ass” anyway.

27. Any headcanons not touched on?

Nothing comes to my mind!! I ramble about them oh so much already i just can’t think of anything else eeee

[archiveikemen]

Harrison Gray Main Story: Chapter 4 Premium Story

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

(... I can’t believe this is how he’s making me repay him.)

As a way to repay him for helping me at the casino, Harrison suggested that…

Kate: … A cafe?

Harrison: There’s not much of a crowd here, but this cafe opens till late at night and has delicious food.

Harrison: Excuse me. I’ll have grape cake, cheesecake, chocolate parfait… and also…

Kate: I can’t eat that much!

Harrison: Huh? Who said that I’m ordering for you? This is all for myself.

(Erm… all of it?)

Harrison: Master, I’ll have a sweetened strawberry flavoured milk as well. Alright, you go ahead and order too.

Kate: Is this all… because I was too conceited?

Harrison: Maybe. Thanks for the treat.

…

The sound of the doorbell ringing as we exited the cafe echoed into the quiet street at night.

Kate: … And there goes my money meant for buying play tickets. Again.

Harrison: But the food was good, right?

Kate: Of course! I didn't notice that place hidden in an alley even when I was making deliveries as a postwoman.

(The ricotta pancakes were to die for. They were so fluffy and melted in my mouth, they were so delicious…)

Harrison: You repaid me, gained valuable information, and got to eat good food. Isn't that a good thing?

Kate: Yes!

(Huh…? I have a feeling that I just got taken for a ride.)

As I inwardly wracked my brain, Harrison muttered “speaking of which…”.

Harrison: In 10 minutes time, your 3 days will be over.

Harrison’s gaze pointed towards the clock face on Big Ben.

(Right. So many things have been happening lately that the promise almost completely slipped out of my mind.)

Unfortunately, I failed to obtain any useful information “from him”.

Harrison: Judging from that look on your face, I guess it's safe to say that I’ve won?

(If I admit my loss now, Harrison will never allow me near him again, just as he said.)

(The opportunity to get to know Harrison will be lost forever.)

I didn't know why, but I had this strange pang of loneliness welling up inside me when that thought came to mind.

He was a carefree and mean liar whose mind I could never read.

Sometimes, he would stare into my eyes as if looking at what was in my heart. And his eyes occasionally contained a hint of loneliness.

(... Yeah. I want to get to know Harrison better.)

(I want to know things like what makes him happy, or what makes him upset.)

A mild impulse surged in me, giving me motivation.

Kate: The game hasn't ended yet.

Harrison: …?

Kate: Harrison, you “never leave someone in need”.

Back there at the casino, Harrison could've chosen to leave me in the lurch — but he didn't.

(At that point of time�� I was really glad he did that.)

Kate: I think that this is a very useful piece of information about you.

Harrison: …

Kate: So, um…

(That was just an excuse.)

And then, the atmosphere around me changed.

Harrison: Pfft, haha! What on earth was that?

Harrison: You sound so desperate. I thought you’re just way too kind-hearted, but you’re surprisingly resilient too.

(... This is the first time I’m seeing his genuine smile.)

His smile was gentle unlike his usual aloof smile.

It completely stole my heart.

Harrison slowly came closer to me and peered into my face.

Harrison: What’s with that face?

Kate: Oh, um… I was just thinking that this is the first time I’m seeing you smile.

Harrison: I’m a human being, of course I can smile. It’s a natural thing.

Kate: Well, that’s true.

Kate: But this is the first time you’ve smiled in front of me, right?

(This smile must be precious, so I should remember it well.)

As I grinned in satisfaction, Harrison gently pressed a beautiful finger to my cheek.

Kate: W- What are you doing…?

Harrison: Me too.

Harrison: It’s my first time seeing you smile too.

Harrison: You should smile more often. It suits you.

Harrison narrowed his eyes and pulled his hand away, then distanced himself.

Kate: … I knew it, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, just forget about—

Harrison: Fine.

Kate: … Huh?

Harrison: Seeing how resilient you are, I’ll let you win our bet.

Kate: Are you being serious…?

Harrison: What, do you want me to lie?

I shook my head, and Harrison smiled.

Harrison: If I say no to you, I’ll have to deal with you getting all depressed and sulking.

Harrison: I mean, you’ll only be here for a month anyway. So do whatever you want, I guess?

Kate: Yes, I’ll definitely do that!

Harrison: Goodness.

And with that, Harrison was about to start walking again when…

Harrison: …

Harrison: Hey, can you walk in front of me?

Kate: Why?

Harrison: My fox curse causes me to get distracted when there’s someone next to me.

Kate: I see. Got it, I’ll pay attention to that next time.

I nodded and did as I was told.

(He’s giving me information about the fox curse after our bet has ended. … As expected, he’s mean.)

I could hear the sound of his footsteps coming from a little distance behind me.

Harrison: — Who made that kiss mark on your neck?

Kate: K- Kiss mark!?

Harrison: Yeah, there’s a very obvious one on your neck. Your partner must be…

Kate: I- It’s definitely not that! Maybe it’s just an insect bite or something.

Harrison: I lied.

Kate: … Lied?

Harrison: Pfft… I’m amazed by how you managed to live this long.

(Did he just play me? Geez… I can never let my guard down around him.)

Feeling frustrated with how easily he fooled me, I walked away in silence.

And then I heard a clattering sound from behind me.

(...?)

I turned around to see Harrison shaking a metal tin.

Harrison: Mints. Here, you have one too.

Kate: … Mint is a hit or miss kind of flavour.

Harrison: Hmm. Fine if you don't want it.

Kate: I do!

Harrison: Then, I’ll feed it to you mouth to mouth.

Kate: You’re lying, right? I won’t let you fool me anymore.

Harrison: I’m serious.

Kate: … What?

Harrison: Yeah I’m lying.

(D- Darn it!)

Harrison: Here, take one.

He tossed me a mint from behind.

Harrison narrowed his eyes as I looked at the mint candy I caught in my hands.

I popped the candy into my mouth and started walking again.

The candy tasted refreshing and slightly sweet at the same time.

I was reminded of Harrison’s mint coloured eyes.

(Harrison is like mint candy.)

His footsteps echoing behind me, and for some reason I…

I found it hard to look back at him.