#this reply is me Trying to Write after a while of Not Writing

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[greengoblinswifey]

Deprived— FratBoy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you and nicholas have been together for a month and everything has been perfect, except, he’s now touch deprived because you’ve both been busy with university duties.

warnings— established relationship, fluff, sub!nicholas then dom!nicholas, possessive!nicholas, fingering, strip tease, face sitting, face fucking, ass slapping, unprotected sex(wrap it up irl), praise kink, bondage, gagging, creampie, cockwarming.

a/n— thank you guys for 3000+ followers, it means the world to me i love writing🫶🏽requests are open for this au, nicholas and all other characters i’ve written for🫶🏽

Nicholas arrived at your dorm, his hands full of flowers and a basket loaded with little surprises. He couldn’t help but grin, taking in the sight of you.

“Happy one month, baby,” he said, holding out the basket of gifts and the flowers.

“Aw, Nick!”you exclaimed, stepping forward to kiss him. It was a quick, warm kiss, but it had him lingering for more, his heart pounding and his cock suddenly hard. But just as he hoped for something more you pulled away, setting the flowers on your desk. “Thank you so much. You're so sweet, these are beautiful,” you murmured before diving back into your notes.

Nicholas tried to be patient, settling himself on your bed as he watched you work. But after a while, he couldn’t hold back his thoughts. “So, remember the first time we hung out here?” he asked grinning a little.

You glance up with a smirk, remembering. “How could I forget?” He remembered it so clearly — the intensity, the way you’d led him every step of the way, taking his virginity and making him feel like he was the only one in the world. He knew since then that you were the woman for him. You were his first and last.

Nicholas sat on the bed, watching you work, trying to keep his focus on anything but his growing desire. Finally, he blurted out, “I miss you.”

You glanced up, confused. “Sweetheart, you see me almost every day. What do you mean you miss me?”

He shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks slightly flushed. “I mean, I miss, uh, doing—you know.”

A smirk spread across your face as you abandoned your work to straddle him, fingers brushing his hair back. “Use your words, Nicholas. You miss doing what?”

He hesitated, then, eyes dark, murmured, “I miss, um, fucking you.”

You laughed softly, leaning in close. “I didn’t realize you were this touch-deprived,” you teased, noting how he was already hard with barely a touch. “Tell you what, let me finish everything up, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”

He sighed but nodded, “I think I can work with that.” He gave you one last lingering look. “Be ready for our anniversary dinner at seven, alright?”

At seven, Nicholas arrived, ever the gentleman, opening doors and pulling out your chair just like he did on your first date. Throughout dinner, you kept sending him teasing looks, trailing your fingers over his hand, letting your gaze linger, and even giving his knee a gentle squeeze under the table.

“Everything’s going to be fine when we get back,” you murmured, watching his face as he swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure.

On the drive back, you felt tipsy and mischievous. You let your hand drift to his thigh, rubbing over his hard cock in his pants. His breathing grew heavier, and he muttered, “You’re making it hard to drive like this.”

You just laughed, leaning in close, your hand still caressing his bulge. “Focus on the road, baby.”

He was barely holding on by the time you reached your dorm. As soon as the door closed, he was on you, pushing you gently back against the door, his mouth finding yours in a hungry kiss. His hands trailed up your sides, gripping your waist as he whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

You leaned back from the kiss, giving Nicholas a teasing smile. “Fuck, you’re so needy,” you murmured.

He let out a low chuckle, his eyes dark with desire. “Of course I am,” he replied, voice rough, “when I’m around someone as beautiful as you, my girlfriend, and I can’t have you right then and there.”

A shiver ran through you as his hand slipped under your dress, fingertips grazing your inner thighs as he pulled you closer. His gaze was intense, his lips barely inches from yours as he murmured, “You’re mine. I should be able to take what’s mine.”

With that, he hiked your dress up, his eyes locking onto yours as his fingers slipped inside you. Your breath hitched as his fingers teased and explored, a delicious pressure building as he kept his gaze steady, watching your every reaction.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent, “I want to see you when you fall apart.”

“Nick,” you moaned, as his fingers sped up and his thumb began rubbing your clit.

You could barely hold back, gripping his shoulders as your body responded to every movement of his fingers, finally reaching an orgasm that had you gasping as you squirted all over his fingers. He knew exactly how to make you feel good.

“Taste yourself,” he murmured. You held on to his hand, sucking your juices off his fingers before you took them in deeper.

“Wow, you’re amazing,” he whispered.

You gave him another kiss on the lips before leading him over to your bed and putting him to sit. He watched in awe as you swayed your hips and slowly removed your clothing including the lingerie you had on underneath.

“You’re a-absolutely breathtaking,” he whispered, the dent in his pants growing more than he thought it ever could. You were completely bare and before him, your body he believed to be sculpted by the gods themselves. “I missed this so much,” he said, in between kissing your body, “I need you to sit on my face.”

“Beg me then,” you whispered, your hand in his hair.

“F- fuck, please baby, I need you to sit on my face. Need you so bad, I need it,” he whimpered. You loved when he was like this. Lips pouty, face red and his eyes dark with desire.

“Good boy, now lay back.” As eager as ever, he lay back, but not before loosening his tie and taking off his shirt. He looked so fine all dressed up for you. His hands gripped your hips, making sure you were flat on his mouth, just where he wanted you.

“Baby, oh my god that feels good,” you cried out. He was a man possessed, his tongue circled your clit, flicking it and sucking, making you feel unimaginable pleasure. His mouth engulfed your pussy, eating you out like he was starved—well he was. It didn’t take much and you held on to his hair, grinding as he sucked and licked and soon you were convulsing on top of him, your high overtaking you.

“Give me everything you’ve got,” he murmured, not stopping even when you already came. He continued and you held on to his hair for dear life, crying out as the pleasure became almost too much.

“O-oh, I think I’m gonna cum again,” you moaned. You felt him smirk below you and just as predicted, you squirted all over his face. You definitely had to change your sheets the next morning.

“Good girl, that’s my baby, just gushing for me, you love sitting on my face, don’t you?” You nodded instinctively, now ready to give him a taste of pleasure.

He stood up and you fell to your knees, unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock as you looked up at him with lust blown eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, looking down at you. Even then he couldn’t believe a girl like you gave a guy like him a chance.

“So are you baby,” you smiled, admiring his hard cock in your hands. It almost looked painful.

“Fuck, just like that,” he moaned loudly. You giggled as you immediately took his cock into the back of your throat. The taste of his pre cum made you moan in content and you continued sucking, playing with his balls as he struggled to quiet his little whimpers.

“C-can I, uh, fuck your throat?” he asked, “it’s okay if you don’t want to, I- I just heard some of the guys in the frat talk about doing it,” he asked, shyly.

“Of course baby, we can try anything,” you smiled, taking his cock out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting you.

As soon as you gave permission, he gripped your hair and thrusted into your throat. Your nails dug into his thighs as he thrusted steadily, making sure you could still be able to breathe. You caressed his balls as he did, earning breathy moans. The sight of you on your knees for him, pre cum and saliva dripping down your chin was enough to make him shoot his load into your throat. You swallowed every drop of his cum, using your hands to milk him of everything he had.

“Oh shit,” he moaned, “I never get tired of seeing you do that.”

You smiled at him but thoughts were swirling in your head, he was new to all of this and it was your job to teach him the kinkier side of things.

“Get your tie and bound my hands behind my back,” you said.

“Uh, are you s-sure?” he asked, face now red with a surprised expression.

“Yes baby, I’m sure, now take up your tie,” you responded. You arched your back, your hands behind you, waiting for him to tie them.

Soon, you felt the bed dip and the feeling of the tie going around your wrists. “Is this okay? I don’t want it to be too tight and hurt you.”

“That’s okay baby.” He hummed in response and you moaned as the leaking head of his cock ran up and down your folds. He slipped inside your slick pussy, both of you moaning in unison.

“You look so fucking sexy like this,” he said, slapping your ass and surprising you. You were enjoying this kinkier side of him.

He held you by your tied wrists, slamming into you from behind. The angle made him go deep, and all you could think about was how good his cock felt.

“You’re doing so good for me baby,” you cried, “faster.”

He obeyed, his hips meeting your ass faster as he thrusted into you, your pussy gripping him as his cock disappeared inside you.

“S-so so tight,” he whimpered, losing himself in the pleasure of it all.

“That’s right baby, and it’s all yours, whose pussy is this?”

“Mine baby, all mine,” he moaned, and with that, you clenched tightly around his dick, creaming all over it.

“Good boy, you make me feel so good, now untie me and sit,” you said, having another idea in mind.

He did as he was told and as you took up the tie, eyeing it and then Nicholas.

“W-what are you gonna do to me?” he inquired nervously.

“Nothing too crazy, I’m just going to gag you, is that okay sweetheart? Do you want that?”

He nodded slowly, heart rising in his cheeks. He had heard his frat brothers talk about gagging girls, never the other way around but, he was different from them. He wanted to be the one gagged.

“Words baby, I need you to tell me what you want.”

“Yes, I want you to gag me,” he answered and you grinned, placing a passionate kiss on his lips before stuffing his own tie in his mouth.

“That’s my good boy, so obedient,” you smirked. You straddled him, rubbing his tip across your pussy. He let out a muffled whimper, feeling your juices drain down the base of his cock.

“Mm-mm,” he mumbled through the tie.

“I can’t hear you baby, you’re gonna have to speak up for me,” you laughed.

He protested through the tie but a muffled moan interrupted him as you slowly sank down on his hard cock. You gripped his shoulders, surely to leave claw marks as he stretched you out and you tried to take as much of him inside you as you could.

“Best dick I’ve ever had sweetheart.”

You began bouncing on his cock, his eyes going from your tits moving, to your face contorting in pleasure to his dick disappearing inside your pussy. His muffled whimpers only willed you further and you continued bouncing, whispering praises in his ear.

“Take it like a good boy.”

“Happy anniversary baby, I promise you won’t go this long without being inside me ever again.”

“I love your cock baby.”

“F-fuck this is my dick.”

“You make me feel so good.”

Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he gripped your waist lightly, lost in the feeling of your pussy gripping him ever so tightly. He could feel the head of his cock practically touch your cervix and constantly be coated in your juices.

“Hold me baby, hold me close, I’m gonna cum,” you cried, gripping his shoulder tightly.

He did as you instructed, pulling you close and thrusting up into you as you squirted and creamed on his cock. The combination made him lose control and he moaned and grunted into the tie, releasing his load deep inside your pussy. He held you close, slowly thrusting up into you, making sure your grip milked him of all his load until you both fell onto the bed with you on top of him and his cock buried deep inside you.

You removed the tie from his mouth and placed a kiss on his lips as he panted. “That was so hot, you’re amazing.” You smiled and placed another kiss on his lips before laying on his chest.

“We’re gonna stay like this all night okay,” you said, snuggling into him, still feeling his cock pulse inside you.

“Happy anniversary again beautiful,” he sighed, kissing the top of your head, “best gift ever.”

“You’re everything to me Nicholas.”

[amirasainz]

Write something about Max and Kelly corrupting innocent younger reader. They treat her like a porcelain doll and make sure she is always in their sight. They are very possessive and obsessed

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

No Part 2!

Keeping her away

"Where are you going, YN?" Max’s voice was smooth yet carried a dark edge that made YN pause, one hand still on the door.

She looked over her shoulder, offering a soft smile. "Oh, I was just going to meet Jess for coffee. I thought I mentioned it."

Kelly appeared from the other side of the room, her gaze warm but intent and possessive. "Did you check in with us first? You know we just like to know where you are, sweetheart." She reached out, tucking a stray strand of YN's hair behind her ear. Kelly had the habit of always touching the younger girl. It was her way of making sure YN was safe. "You know it’s not safe out there. Besides… we kind of like having you around."

YN’s cheeks flushed at the attention, feeling a bit like a child being fussed over by parents���though Max and Kelly were only a few years older than her. Still, they always treated her with such adoration, like she was someone who needed looking after. Like she couldn't exist without the other two.

"It’s just coffee," she replied, laughing softly, "I’ll be back in an hour or two."

Max exchanged a long look with Kelly. "Come on, YN, it’s not that we don’t trust you," he said, stepping closer, his gaze softening, but carrying a possesive sparkle in them. "We just worry, you know? We don’t want you getting hurt."

"How about this?" Kelly chimed in, wrapping a strong arm around YN’s waist. "Let us come with you. We can sit nearby, give you space, but if you need anything, we’ll be right there."

YN’s expression wavered. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. They did so much for her, always checking in, always knowing exactly what she needed before she even had to ask.

"Alright," she agreed, smiling. "You two can come, but only if you promise not to embarrass me!"

Max chuckled, guiding her toward the door with a firm hand on her lower back, nearly touching her ass. "Promise. We’ll just be… there in case you need us."

The three of them arrived at the café, with Jess already waiting. When she saw Max and Kelly trailing YN, her eyebrows raised. "Hey, YN," Jess said, giving her a questioning look. "I didn’t know we’d have company."

YN shrugged, taking a seat. "They just wanted to make sure I was safe." She grinned, not noticing how Jess’s face flickered with confusion.

While Jess and YN caught up, Max and Kelly sat at a nearby table, never taking their eyes off their girl. At one point, Max leaned toward Kelly, murmuring softly, "See how happy she looks with us here. We’re doing the right thing, keeping an eye on her."

Kelly nodded, eyes bright with a crazy twinkle as she watched YN laugh. "She needs us, Max. We’re the only ones who really understand her. Nobody else could love her the way we do. Nobody could ever protect her the way we can. We are the only ones she can love, forever."

They lingered at the café, Max occasionally glancing at Jess whenever she made YN laugh too hard, his jaw tightening just a little too hard for it to be causal. Kelly, sensing his mood, placed a calming hand on his arm, trying to keep her anger at bay when she looked at her precious love and the person she called a "friend".

"Remember," she whispered, "YN will come back with us. She always does."

■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■

Later that evening, back at Max and Kelly’s home, YN spotted a new photo on the wall—one of her from the café, laughing at something Jess had said.

"Another one?" she laughed, turning to them. "You two are so obsessed with pictures."

Max smiled warmly, stepping closer to her. "You’re just so beautiful, YN. We love being able to see you around us, even when you’re not there."

Kelly leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching YN with a fond gaze. "Do you like it? We took it because it just… captured you perfectly. Don’t you think?"

YN’s cheeks heated. She felt flattered, even a bit shy. "I guess it’s… kind of sweet. I’m lucky to have you two."

"No, YN," Kelly said, stepping forward and taking her hand, kissing her cheek softly, before whisperingin her ear. "We’re the lucky ones. You’re like our little angel. You let us take care of you, and that means everything to us." Kelly's declaration of love made her shiver.

YN felt her heart skip. She’d never had anyone look out for her so closely. Sometimes her friends hinted it was… maybe a bit much, but what did they know? Max and Kelly loved her, cared for her in ways she couldn’t imagine anyone else doing. And they wanted her safe.

"So… you don’t mind?" she asked, looking up at Max. "That I need you both so much?"

Max’s gaze softened. "YN, we wouldn’t have it any other way." He put a gentle hand on her cheek. "You’re exactly where you’re meant to be."

Kelly nodded, brushing a thumb over YN’s knuckles. "Exactly. With us."

■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■

Days passed, and each time YN tried to spend time on her own or with friends, Max and Kelly always found a reason to join or have her stay with them instead. They’d perfected the art of reassuring her with gentle smiles and soft words, constantly reminding her of how precious she was to them and how they didn't want anything happening to her.

One evening, YN noticed Max quietly watching her from the doorway as she arranged flowers on the kitchen table. "Something on your mind?" she asked with a teasing grin.

He tilted his head, smiling. "Nothing in particular. Just… happy."

Kelly appeared by his side, nodding as she took YN’s hand, guiding her to sit between them on the couch. "We love having you here, YN. You feel that too, don’t you?"

"Of course," YN replied, her heart warming. "I mean… I don’t know what I’d do without you two."

"And you won’t ever have to," Kelly murmured softly, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before bringing her in a hug. Over YN's shoulder, Kelly shared a dark look with Max, tightening her hold on YN. A silent form of communication between them. Nothing would ever touch their YN. Ever.

[ferg0s]

how writing about your favorite Blue Lock boy who can't deny how good his s/o looks in the Blue Lock spandex suit?

BAROU BAROU BAROU 🗣️🦅‼️ not so much s/o but trust me I have a vision…

I haven’t seen PNGlock season 2 😞 so mb for some inconsistencies

If you asked Ego which he liked better, woman’s soccer or men’s soccer, he would say which ever could win a gold medal. He was like a goblin, craving for the shiny smooth surface of a gold medal to glide across his fingers - and he would do whatever it would take to get it. When he had proposed the idea onto the board, they had laughed it off. But he didn’t understand why? Having a woman’s team meant that they had double the chance. More versatility. He didnt want to put his eggs in one basket. Besides he wanted Japan to be the best in the world - in every aspect of the sport.

Pink lock. That’s what the boys at Bluelock started to call the sister program. Even though it was literally just named blue lock. Thats until the practice match. Pink lock was started to look like pain lock the way they were making the boys run across the field. What the boys didn’t know was that the they had to fight harder, the threat of underperforming and having the whole program shut down was looming over them. An extra stress to add to the stress they already had of being kicked out. Their performances not only reflected them but everyone. Misogyny is the name of the blade that mercilessly cuts off the wings of angels.

Though there was one person that seemed to get on Barous nerve. Some girl who kept popping out of no where to block his shots, steal the ball and all in all make it impossible for him to have more then 3 seconds with the ball. He didn’t know her name, just the crazed look in her eyes as she would run past him. Number 67. Fuck her, he thought.

~

You didn’t know how tired you were until you got back to the dorms they had set up for you. The showers had a long line, and it seemed like everyone was taking Atleast a minimum of 30 minutes. The facility hadn’t given you the spandex suits they had given to the boys - the board said they didn’t have the Budget for it. Que another wingless angel. And it seemed like you wouldn’t get them for a while.

The practice test was more a presentation by ego to show the board to her more funding, which it had. After ego threatened to close the men program, the board rolled over and gave into his demands. But the official uniforms would have to wait. It took a while to make them with the same physicality monitoring sensors. Until then, you were stuck wearing frumpy soccer gear. The knee long shorts and over sized shirts. What you had assumed were the initial clothes for the men.

You seemed to pick up on the man who has been eyeing you with nothing but hatred pretty quickly. Having being divided into duos , of course you got stuck with him. It was temporary, ego said, to grow both players abilities, he said. While the other duos flirted and exchanged numbers, you and Barou did nothing but fight. The self proclaimed king didn’t like someone telling him what to do. Especially someone as annoying as you.

“-are you allergic to passing the fucking ball?” You ask as you walk up to him. “Not my fault you can’t keep up-“ he replied back. The other boys started to assume he didn’t swing that way based on how much the two of you fought, Barou seeming to resent the idea of even being on the same planet at you. But in reality, it was just two hard strong stubborn people clashing. Two unstoppable forces trying to merge into one, while also actively trying to avoid it.

You use the helm of your shirt to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It has been 20 minutes and you hadn’t even scored once against the hologram goalie. You look over at your partner, who was equally as tired as you. Both of you had been fighting for the ball rather than trying to figure out how to get past the goalie and score. You needed a minimum of 10 to leave and have dinner. And you were starving, and stuck at 0.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He asked, walking up to you. “The strategy is simple, hand me the ball and-“ “go fuck yourself princess-“ you spat back.

Barou didn’t need to come and taunt you after every missed goal. He didn’t need to walk up to you every time and stand way to close to when he was having another verbal altercation with you. But he couldnt help it. He liked the colour of your eyes :)

Yes. Barou had a crush.

On you.

Barou grew up with sisters so it wasn’t like he hasn’t been around women, but he still acted like it. His way of flirting with teasing and insulting, like an elementary school kid. As much as he bragged about being a womanizing bastard to the other guys in the locker room, he would rather eat cement than talk to a pretty girl alone. Which is why he figured insulting was a good alternative.

Even in the frumpy uniform, hair a mess and sweat covering your face, Barou saw you as someone akin to a model. You had a sort of fire in your eyes that drew him in, like a moth to a flame. Ego had made the duos based on compatible personalities, and you were just as stubborn, goal oriented and hot headed as him. If you had stuck around for longer instead of walking away in a huff to drink some water, you would notice how he seemed to zone out when you were yelling at him.

Out of everyone, you and Barou had the worst score. Leaving you one of the teams near the bottom.

It seemed to get worse when the spandex uniforms came. Landing the two of you at the bottom. He spent more time staring at you more than he did the ball. It should be a sin to look so good, he thought. His eyes would linger longer as you bent over to pick up the water bottle, drinking up the sight of you laying on the ground having from exhaustion. Or in the training room doing squats. It was entirely his fault that you two were at the bottom, which meant more verbal abuse from you. He tried his best to look into your eyes, wondering what specific colour they were on the colour wheel, hoping his years of discipline would stop his eyes from going down further.

It wasn’t until one day when you finally managed to score a point, in under 20 minutes with him, that you finally had a positive attitude towards him. In the midst of your joy, near tears for finally being able to cooperate enough to score 1 goal, you hugged him.

Shortly after that you somehow skyrocket to top 3. You didn’t know why he had Suddenly done a 180.

But Barou thanks who ever decided to put you in that stupid spandex uniform.

__________

kinda burnt out in the end 😞 Mbmb. Bit off more than I could chew

[concreteangel92]

Do you write angst? Could you write something? You decide 😊

The One Who Never Was

Noah Sebastian x female reader

Warnings: Noah being a complete and utter fuck boy, talks of sex but nothing detailed, breakups, playing with someone’s feelings, gaslighting, love bombing, mental and emotional abuse, depression, co-dependency, unhealthy relationships, fwb, situationship, no happy ending in this story, drinking, self destructive behaviour, let me know if I’ve missed something!

Noah is not a nice person in this fic, if that is going to bother you then please don’t read. I did also picture long haired Noah when I was writing this.

I hope you all enjoy (if that’s the right word for a story like this ahaha) and I’m hoping to get back into my writing this week as I’m not back at work until Saturday (if I’m well enough) and this is the first time in about 6 weeks that I’ve been able to rest and do nothing so I’ll try and be productive with it

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @Ima1986 (never lets me tag you properly for some reason?)

“Hey fancy meeting up today? Feels like it’s been ages”

You nervously sat there waiting for Noah’s response, in your mind already knowing the answer.

You and Noah had been in this ‘situationship’ for a year now, you’d started off as just friends and then one night, it had all changed.

You’d not long been out of a bad relationship when Noah first text you and asked if you wanted to hang out, you knew what he wanted and at first you thought it was a good idea, help you move on from the last dickhead that you’d been with.

“Best way to get over a man is to get under one”

So you went.

After that night, Noah then wanted to date you, he’d asked to take you out for a meal but you’d politely declined as you wanted to stay single longer so you could heal but you spoke about being friends with benefits with him instead, something he was completely up for. Looking back, you had no idea of everything that was about to happen.

•••••

You were sitting on Noah’s sofa, a film was on in the background and Noah was cooking you both dinner.

“What do you think of this?”

Noah had walked back into the living room with his hand under a spoon, you wrapped your lips around it to taste his home made sauce for the chicken he was cooking.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! Since when did you cook?”

He gave you a big smile and a cheeky wink as he replied “I’ve always loved cooking, it’s even better when I have someone to cook for”

You’d both be curled up on the sofa, eating his amazing food before you’d spend the rest of the night together in his bed.

Noah had this power of making you blush with every word he said, he always made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

“You’re like no woman I’ve ever been with”

He’d text you first always, told you how he felt about you and that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Oh shut up!”

“I’m serious, I don’t know how I’ve got so lucky to be with someone as gorgeous as you”

The fact he’d accepted the friends with benefits over an actual date made you feel he would wait for you, that he completely understood that you needed time.

And let’s talk about the sex. The sex was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, he was such a pleasure dom, making sure you were completely satisfied again and again and again.

No man has ever made you feel the things that he did, he was willing to do everything with you.

“Whatever you want to to try, I’m down for it, even the weird shit”

“Weird shit? 😂”

“Any kinks you might not have tried because others think they are weird, I’ll do it all for you”

Noah always held you until you feel asleep, you fighting it, not wanting the night to end.

“Shhh, I’m here”

His fingers would gently caress your cheek while your eyes became heavy, feeling so warm and content in his arms

You’d wish you had longer, knowing that by morning, you’d both be going about your day and then never knowing when you’d see him again due to your schedules.

At some point, during the long into night deep chats, the dinner dates, the small details that Noah always remembered and done, you fell for him.

••••••

“Sorry I can’t today, busy in the studio”

That was it, it was so cold and blunt, there was no warmth in his messages anymore. Not that your heart allowed you to fully see it.

You felt the tears prick at the corner of your eyes as your heart became heavy and you felt the sinking feeling in your gut.

All of your friends have told you to leave him, that he’s making his feelings clear but every time you have tried to pull away, Noah always had the right words to say or a good excuse for his actions.

So you stayed.

And here you were, a shell of the person you used to be, when you first started this with Noah, you had such a spark in your eyes and you felt so happy.

Now, happiness with him was like a drug, he was like a drug. You knew he was bad for you, you knew he was killing you. But you couldn’t stop.

You stared at the screen, almost like your will alone could change the words. You scrolled up and saw it was much the same.

“Hey you about today?” “Sorry I’m working today”

“Fancy some dinner later?” “Maybe. I’ll text you in a bit”

Unless he messaged you…

“Hey baby, you free today? I miss you”

“Yeah I’m free, what do you fancy?”

“You 😏”

“Cheeky haha no seriously, what do you want to do?”

“Come to mine and hang out?”

You knew every time that it would lead to sex, you prayed it would, so you never said no to him.

You convinced yourself that he loved you as much as you loved him. Over the last year, you’d never felt anything like it before.

The only way you could describe it was that whenever you were with him, your soul felt at home. It didn’t matter what you were doing, you could be doing nothing and you were so contented to be around him.

You were always laughing together, you fitted together physically and just overall seemed like each other’s perfect partner.

You saw him for who he was, not this big rock star. You knew the rumours about him but you saw another side to him, a side he wouldn’t let many see. You knew he loved you deep down. Noah just struggled to show it because of his past.

You knew you shouldn’t make excuses for him, what’s the age old saying?

If a man truly wants to be with you then they won’t let a single thing come in between you.

And Noah gave you excuses most of the time, would take hours to reply and then blame it on work. You knew that wasn’t always true but you just accepted the behaviour because you’d fallen in love with him.

You’d fallen in love with the man who made you laugh until your belly hurt, who looked at you like you were the only other person in existence. Noah had recently said that he loved you back for the first time.

••••••

2 weeks ago, the last time you saw him in person.

You’d gone out for a few drinks with your friends and knew Noah was out already so you gave him the invite, not actually expecting him to show up in all honesty.

So when you arrived at the bar so see Noah stood there with your favourite drink next to his, your heart swelled within your chest.

The smile he gave you matched your own, his hug was so warm and for a moment, you felt like the whole world had stopped.

You sat down with your friends, both next to each other and clearly not paying attention to anything else around you other than each other.

In the words that your friend text you later….“A bomb could have gone off in that bar and neither of you two would have known, you couldn’t take your eyes off each other”

You both laughed and chatted all night, it only when you were outside getting some air that you decided to be honest.

“I love you Noah, I know you won’t say it back because you’re scared but I love you”

Noah stood and stared at you for a moment before he smiled and brushed your hair behind your ear.

“I love you too, always have”

The feeling in that moment was indescribable, the man you truly believed you were meant to be with had finally said those words back. He had finally admitted his true feelings.

The rest of the night you felt like you were walking on a cloud, you knew now that everything was going to be ok. All the heartache and loneliness before Noah had lead you up to this moment. To know it was all worth it.

You couldn’t stop smiling all night, even after he’d said that he needed to go, you gave him a big kiss and a hug and said that you couldn’t wait to see him again and finally start dating properly and have a relationship.

For Noah to ghost for you about a week, every message you sent was left unread, all the phone calls ignored.

Every time you felt your heart shatter, how could he do this? Surely not after he’d admitted he loved you? Who can do that?

Your friends were adamant that he was playing you and that you needed to block him.

You sat and cried your heart out, you drank your pain away and tried to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle, you’d do anything to numb the pain that you were feeling.

The feeling of having your whole future ripped away after just being given to you was soul destroying. You have hardly slept, hardly eaten. The weight was falling off your body as the days had turned into weeks.

It was only a few days ago that you’d finally had a response from him.

“Sorry been so busy with work, hope you’re ok”

But when you tried to arrange to see him, you got all the excuses once again. The never ending story of this game of cat and mouse.

You’d even confronted him about his behaviour.

“How could you tell me that you loved me to then ghost me? Who does that?”

“I wasn’t lying to you, I honestly have been busy, I can’t just drop everything for you”

You knew it was wrong, but you still wanted him, you craved him.

••••••

Sipping on the vodka in your glass was the only comfort for you at this moment. You’d text your best friend but of course just had the same old reply.

“Just block him, he’s made his feelings clear, he’s making a complete fool out of you”

You decided enough was enough, you’d walk over to his and see him in person, you couldn’t take this uncertainty anymore.

Walking to Noah’s was almost like a dream, but not the good kind, the feeling of dread was making you feel sick with every step, especially by the time you were outside his front door.

Taking a deep breath, you rung the doorbell, every nerve in your body on edge in preparation for the confrontation you knew was coming.

After a moment, you heard the sound of footsteps before the door swung open to reveal Noah’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?”

You were sure you looked awful, dark circles around your puffy eyes, hair a mess.

“I needed to speak to you, can I please come in?”

Noah looked annoyed but stepped aside so you could enter.

“I haven’t got long, I’m going out soon”

Your chest became tighter at his words, the excuses already starting.

“Then just be honest with me Noah. What the fuck am I to you?”

He looked slightly shocked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re my friend y/n, I care a lot for you, you know that”

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

“Do I? You told me you loved me and then ghosted me! No one is this fucking busy Noah! I’m tired of the games, I want you to be honest with me!”

The tears had already started, leaving a warm trail down your cheeks as you spoke.

Noah seemed to look anywhere but you, not able to meet your eyes as he answered.

“We have already been through this, I’ve just been busy”

“So you keep saying. May I remind you Noah that you originally chased me! You were the one who wanted to date, you were the one texting me and doing everything you could to make me fall for you! And now what? You just can’t be bothered anymore and don’t have the balls to tell me? You scared you’ll lose your booty call if you do?”

The last year was finally catching up with you, all the games and played feelings were coming to the surface, something you could clearly see was bothering Noah.

“Or are you too scared to actually commit because you’re frightened of getting hurt?”

“Are you for real? I’m not scared of anything!”

“Then why?!”

Noah throw his hands up in frustration and paced around.

“Because I don’t want to be with you! It’s that simple! You’re not the only girl I can have or have had! You’re a joke, you’re treating me like I’m your fucking boyfriend and I’m not, we were never dating!”

You stood in shock, how could he say that, although you never had an actual label, you’d been a couple in every way but the title and he knew that, he even wanted the two of you to be ‘exclusive to each other’.

But now it was starting to make sense, why he wouldn’t take it further.

“So you made me feel like I was the only woman for you, why? You told me that you loved me, said you wanted to be with me. Fucking hell, we even sat and told each other about all the dark shit in our pasts! You once said to me that I was the one person you never wanted to hurt!”

Noah’s face had become hard, a sign that he was shutting down from the conversation.

“And I didn’t. I’m not your boyfriend, I never have been and never will be. You’re making this all up in your head and you’re acting crazy. I’d like you to leave right now”

Your body was shaking and the tears wouldn’t stop falling as you stared at him. Your voice came out as barely a whisper.

“Where’s my Noah gone? My Noah would never have done any of this?”

Instead of answering, Noah simply opened the door, void of all emotion on his face. You stood in complete disbelief before you admitted defeat, your pride had already been shattered and you couldn’t take anymore.

You ran out of the door and kept running down his driveway. You collapsed at the corner of his road, the tears never stopping as your crying pulled your breath from your lungs.

You pulled out your phone and found Noah’s chat, the sinking feeling you had was confirmed when you’d tried to call but realised you’d been blocked.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it, your Noah, the man who made you feel so special and loved could never do this. Where was he?

•••••

The days turned into weeks, turned into months and the heartache never stopped.

Noah had ripped out your heart and broken you as a person. Your friend’s were always concerned for your mental state as you tried to navigate a life without him without any closure.

You didn’t see him again, unless it was online, but you knew he was just fine. Every time you saw his photo, he looked so happy and care free, he was living his dream, the band was starting to go viral and you knew this was only the beginning.

The rumours of who he was dating of course started to spread, each one like a knife to your heart.

You never got the closure your mind needed, you had to move on with no answers. Trying to piece yourself back together.

It was the hardest break up you’d ever gone through, and although others may say “well you weren’t actually together”

That was worse, he was the man you had completely fallen in love with, who never truly loved you back but made you feel like he did.

Noah was the one who never was.

[starlight-archer]

dbda fic request- the boys meet death after becoming the lost and founds freelancers and find out they're her favorite coworkers even if they're just now meeting 💕 thank you!

Hi! I love this idea, it's so sweet and I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy what I came up with for it!

Charles and Edwin have been officially sanctioned as an extension of the Lost and Found Department for around six months. Things had been going well, they were on top of cases, Crystal had been helping Niko with the paperwork for the Night Nurse whenever she wasn't needed on cases.

It was good.

As it so happened, they had just successfully finished up another case. Getting the ghost of a particularly dextrous and determined octopus out of the London Aquarium. In the end, it had been fairly happy to be taken to the end of the Thames that fed into the ocean. They had managed to help the ghost of the aquarium worker who brought the case to them move on while they were at it.

Everyone happy. Job officially jobbed.

"That one felt good, didn't it, mate?" Charles grinned as he looked to the side, at Edwin, hands triumphantly placed on his hips.

"It certainly was rewarding, I must agree." Edwin replied, his own small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Though admittedly I could have done without the octopus trying to eat my notebook."

The highly put upon way that he said those words had Charles breaking into a short but full-bodied laugh as he clapped Edwin on the shoulder.

"Bloody hell, I don't think I'll ever forget that look on your face." Charles wheezed and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Please. There is no need for such theatrics." Edwin rolled his eyes, all in good humour. "It was worth it in the end."

Charles took a breath and straightened up, still smiling broadly as he looked out at the edge of the river. "Always is, isn't it?"

"Right you are. I would not change this for anything."

"Me neither."

They stood together for a while, side by side. The sun was setting just over the horizon, though it would soon disappear beyond a line of flats and skyscrapers. There was a tinge of orange and pink melting into the pale blue that peeked out from between clouds.

The wind gently moved the branches of the few potted trees that grew from between grey paving slabs.

Briefly, they both thought about the past, about life and about afterlife, about how a breeze like that once felt against their skin. What would it be like now, to close their eyes and lean into the wind and feel it in their hair?

It didn't really matter in the end.

Nothing beat the feeling of freedom that came from simply being as they were, side by side, solving cases, helping people. They had Crystal and Niko, and the Night Nurse, maybe even more people than that if they went outside of the agency. Most importantly though, they had each other. They always would.

They were about to consider heading away to look for a mirror to get back to the agency, when something made them pause. A presence seemed to appear behind them under the weighted sound of swooping wings.

A warmth spread over them, like the sun warming their backs through layers of clothing.

Perhaps there could have been a spike of anxiety when they both realised in quick succession, that the presence was of Death herself; Death Of The Endless.

"Good evening, Detectives." she greeted, voice warm and comforting.

Slowly, they both turned to greet her in turn.

"It is, rather." Edwin agreed, much more calmly than he would have ever anticipated himself capable of under such circumstances.

"Can we help you?" Charles asked, a little nervous, a little in awe.

"You have been helping me a great deal already." she smiled with more kindness than either of them had seen from a stranger in either of their lifetimes.

But then, she wasn't really a stranger, was she? No. She was more like an old friend, if either of them truly thought about it.

"Actually, that's part of why I'm here." she continued. "Your probationary period is over. It was more of a formality than anything, but I thought it'd be nice to come and tell you myself," she smiled, obviously just having come from gathering their Aquarium worker. "Congratulations and welcome to the Afterlife Department."

"...probationary period?" Edwin echoed in mild confusion. He hadn't been aware of any such thing.

"As I said, detective. Just a formality. I've been watching the two of you for a very long time. I admire you, actually."

"Hang on a tick. You... admire us?" Charles frowned a bit, in confusion. He had never expected their first conversation with Death to go quite in this direction.

"How could I not?" she replied. "You two are my favourites. You help lost souls, solve cases that no one else can solve. So many of those people would have wondered forever if not for your help. I couldn't be prouder to have you officially on board."

"So... You will not force us to move on? You won't be separating us?" Edwin questioned, undeniably afraid of the answer.

"Of course not." she almost laughed. "Much of the afterlife is left a mystery even for Afterlife employees, and so I can't say much, but I don't think either of you would consider anything but this, to be an ideal eternity." she gave them both a look that told them she knew it to be true, with absolute certainty.

"I..." Edwin had a burning question, but he wasn't sure he could ask it.

She understood him anyway.

"You're not going back to Hell, Edwin. You never should have been there in the first place. Besides, I think you've more than earned the afterlife you deserve." It was the one that he already had.

Edwin could have wept with the relief (and truthfully, so could Charles).

"Mate!" Charles exclaimed. "That's brills! That means you and me can stay together, yeah? Carry on doing what we do best." he beamed so brightly and with so much joy that it was almost like looking at the sun.

And how could Edwin not match his enthusiasm? He beamed right back, like the moon reflecting that same light.

Neither of the boys could quite put their finger on what compelled them to hug Death in that moment. Perhaps it had been the relief, or the joy, or the safety of it. Perhaps it was all of those things.

And, perhaps they had always been embracing death, from the moment they stepped into each other's lives.

This time though, Death embraced them back, and it felt like home. It felt like protection.

It was that devotion and love that endeared them so much to Death. She couldn't help but root for them to succeed. They understood better than most, that death was a part of life, just as much as the living.

They really were her favourite coworkers.

[mynicosensesaretingling]

hiii ! I saw your post about the elections , i hope you’ll be okay over there even with those results ! Could i request a oneshot or some HC about brocedes with a reader who’s really burnout and struggling through med school ? If writing about the brocedes together is a no-no for you, just lewis or max would be just as fine ! take care ! 👋 from France

thank you for your request and the warmest greetings back to you! 💓

Here are your HCs, I hope you enjoy them:

-Nico immediately notices when you’re feeling off. His sharp attention to detail extends beyond the track, and he’s always quick to check in with you. He’ll sit you down with a cup of tea and listen to you vent, making sure you feel heard.

-If everything becomes too much to you, he gladly takes on the role of the planner, trying to organize a “study schedule” for you , complete with color-coded breaks. He’s determined to help you balance work and rest. He swears by his "methodical approach" and keeps saying, "Efficiency is the key to success!" like it’s his personal mantra. Knowing full well that burnout is something you can’t push through. He even plans study breaks filled with distractions to get you out of your head.

-If he’s not with you, expect him to send you motivational messages at random times. “Just one more chapter, you’ve got this! 💪” and “The finish line is in sight! Proud of you.” He’s very big on helping you visualize success.

-Lewis has been through the highs and lows of intense pressure, so he’s always dropping little nuggets of wisdom about mental strength and perseverance, making it his mission to remind you to not be so hard on yourself.

-When he finds out you’re overworking yourself, he’ll say things like, “You wouldn’t want me to race an F1 car at full speed every day without maintenance, right? So why are you doing that to yourself?”

-Expect Lewis to show up with (vegan) treats or comfort food, gently reminding you that self-care is just as important as studying.

-Despite their rivalry on the track, Nico and Lewis put all of that aside to create a support system for you. They understand what it means to be under immense pressure, so they tag-team in making sure you don’t fall too deep into a burnout.

-They most likely just push their way into your apartment with such ease, like this wasn’t the first time they’d interrupted your study sessions.

-Nico is more practical, offering to help you with organization and structure, while Lewis is all about positive energy and mental health. Together, they provide a well-rounded support system, making sure you feel supported both mentally and physically.

-They’d likely throw in some playful banter between them just to make you smile. “Don’t let Nico make you study too hard; remember who won the most races,” Lewis might say, with Nico replying, “You can’t meditate your way through med school, Lewis. Trust me, the best way to succeed is with a plan.” Lewis, shoots him a cheeky grin,“Yeah? How’d your plan go in 2016? Oh right, you retired after one win.” Throwing a pen at Lewis, Nico laughs. “I’m still a world champion. And unlike you, I don’t make people meditate through stressful situations.”

-They plan a "med school pit stop" day, where they whisk you away for an entire day of fun and relaxation. Whether it’s a day trip to a spa, a race day, or just chilling at home with movies and food, they make sure you’re not thinking about school for at least a few hours.

[katerinaaqu]

Oh boy I am certainly honored! Actually that is a genius way to save it! Hahahahaha!

For real! I think so too! The more I do these stuff the more convinced I am to that! The more I analyze the more gems I discover! Like an endless diamond mine! For real I wonder indeed how on earth is it so brilliant and how contemporary at the same time! This timeless classic!

Hahahaha don't wanna sound salty and say that I am glad because hey that would make me waaaaaay too of a meanie-Odysseus hahaha but I am gonna say I am glad that my analysis makes you make some comparison between the modern ideas and the original material that inspired them. My friend you truly have said it better than what I could ever say! You are absolutely right. I feel like what many modern versions lack is that Odysseus was not going only about Penelope this and Telemachus that, which was already a big part of his goals, but it was about his men as well. His goal was not to return home to his wife. It was for ALL of them to return home to their wives and families. That's why he left no man behind; Lotus Eaters, Polyphemus, Circe etc. every time he had the chance to do something he would do it. He never tried to claw himself out of a situation. He always tried to do it so that he could save his men! That was definitely a trope that missed and couldn't put my finger on but you are so right my friend! THAT is exactly what was missing! (for now I have the drafts that I posted here I am afraid! If you ever get interested ^_^)

I am really honored that it had you thinking! For real and Odysseus as I mentioned in some other parts of conversations and analysis is NOT unaffected by his humiliations and misadventures! For starters he is aware of every detail thus trying to hide his identity from the Phaeaces or lie for his identity to the girl of Ithaca (Athena in disguise). He was also ashamed of women for a while. He didn't let Nausicaa's servants to bathe him and requested that he should bathe himself. His reaction against his nurse could also be low-key trauma. He warns her not to betray him otherwise he wouldn't spare her. Was the threat really necessary? I doubt it. But after spending 7 years abused by a goddess and even more years out there at wars and survival battles Odysseus became even more secretive, even more suspicious.

I agree. Even from before. In fact there were many people who claimed that this whole "monster" saga would be fitting for him during his thought of taking Troy by trickery; his guilt speaking for it I believe it was also @aaronofithaca05 who suggested it at some point when we used to discuss about it more, so that I will not claim the credit for that idea. In generl yes I think this whole "turning into a monster" is a very blunt transfer of the Odyssey. Odysseus never lost his moral compass. It is just his moral compass was not the same as a modern human to begin with. Hehehe I am very happy that you feel that because to me that was the beauty of the Odyssey to begin with; he was a man fighting against the elements, against all odds, torn apart by the sea and the storms but still insisting to go home. Gosh my friend I am gonna cry! You are so right on that! Yes no matter what he did, tried hard, prayed and tried to correct his mistake and yet there is no guarantee that he will get what he wants and he doesn't; his men die, he is left alone. Arguably his ultimate goal to return was of course fulfilled after so much effort but the price was great; despite his best efforts his men are gone and he lost 10 years more of his life in the process Hahaha "more edgy" sounds a perfect description here hahahaha and oh gosh "when younger" makes us feel old! Hahahahahaha! But yes as I said to another post reply of mine; the beauty of the Odyssey for me is that Odysseus could be any one of us; anyone who struggles to survive and achieve a goal and also to learn along the way.

So yes to repeat one more time yes I think so too "Monster" is a very strong song, not gonna lie, and it could fit perfectly on Odysseus but not in that context. Odysseus might as well consider himself a monster for what he did to Troy or that he is more than capable of doing things that others wouldn't but yeah the way it was played as if it was some transformation from Jekyll to Hyde somehow doesn't do it for me. Odysseus could have had a mental breakdown and accusing himself for being a monster sounds more like it and even then that would be dangerous theme to play around but much more suitable. In fact as I have written in several analysis Odysseus was definitely violent many times over but never did I think "monstrous" when I read the Odyssey. So the theme should probably revolve around a turmoil through his heart rather than an actual "transformation" song.

Not at all! You always make brilliant points!

Hmm that is actually a very interesting point and I agree. Despite the fact that it was clear as day that whoever lived in that cave was not human (huge cave and tools and bed etc) Odysseus did want to give them the benefit of doubt. Perhaps his instict was already tngling that a monsterous creature lived there but he wanted to give the element of doubt some space; he wanted to take a gamble and not judge directly. And honestly the misadventure of the Lotus Eaters kinda proved to him that Xenia can come from different places (Odysseus admits the Lotus Eaters were peaceful and did not wish them harm it was just the fruit that was harmful to them) and as I mentioned to another Analysis of mine, he also spoke on Polyphemus's pain as well as his emotional side when he describes what he said to his favorite sheep:

Oh! Calypso is actually another good example. Arguably one could say that yes he had no choice. What could he do? Hold a grudge to a goddess? But yes he did try to see it from her point of view. He tried to sincerely talk to her. He even was brutally honest with her. He said that she has nothing to be jealous of his wife that she was much prettier and younger than her and yet his desire to go to his wife was deeper. He reconsiles with her and later despite the fact he often refers to him as his jailer he still tries to talk tenderly on the fact that she saved his life. I myself believe so indeed! Which is what I partially try to convey to my retelling as well:

"So I think it's a good moment of self reflection for him, it shows that he is not in search for enemies but he just wants to go home." DUDE!!! YOU SUMMERIZED BETTER THAN WHAT I COULD EVER HAVE SAID!!!!!!

Undoubtedly. Odyssey and many other myths like that teach us "never to mess up with the gods". The gods are to be respected and they dectate the lives of mortals but also the fact that blasphemy (hubris) brings punishment (nemesis). Hahahaha lol don't remind me please! Hahahahahahahaha!

Indeed I thought so too! It does seem to reflect to that aspect and honestly a great part of the epic cycle involves Odysseus do things that others wouldn't. I so agree! Which is what I tried to convey to my story "Guilt" because honestly Odysseus thought he could bring quick results so that the war would be over. Arguably if he knew about the prophecy that he would return home in 20 years he might as well hope he could make the prophecy shorter. He himself new he as playing dirty and he thought he could take it but ironically that comes to bite him later for at Scheria he cries out of pure guilt when he is reminded of Troy.

In one way it would fit indeed if we talked about the turmoil in his soul. That HE considers HIMSELF the monster for the decisions he makes. And as people said before me there is a differene between ruthlessness and cruelty. Odysseus was often ruthless but at least in Homer he was never cruel. It could be interesting hearing him speak of himself being a monster without making the cruel actions of the latest. His ruthlessness can be seen in many occasions such as the hanging of maidens (which yes I made a retelling about! Hahahaha)

Basically he performed a ruthless judgement on them but didn't prolong their torment. Sure there is a thin line between ruthlessness and cruelty but still Odysseus doesn't seem to cross it very often yet alone in Homer. So yes the song could absolutely work in homeric poems if it was more like Odysseus's self-critisism than actual reality

Hahahahaha don't apologize you brought up so many amazing points! And you are right the song had potential! Like most of the songs in the musical had! Hahahaha like I said not sure if I will make it a reality but for now I only write the small things around. Maybe one day I will generate them to an actual book!

Hahahaha I feel ya dear! If only indeed! Hahahaha I wouldn't mind a non-musical but I understand. Musicals are really fun and technically speaking Odyssey was also sung! If only I could do an experiment and try to create the Odyssey in the original tongue and into a play with songs and all! Hahahaha unfortunately do not have the knowledge or skill! Hahahaha but who knows!

(Not at all! I understand definitely how you mean it and like I said I am really open to discuss like this! No need to apologize at all! DUDE! I love the long reblogs!!! No worries at all! As you see I live for them!!!!)

Why didn't Odysseus's crew stage a mutiny against him in the Odyssey? (An analysis based on Homer's Odyssey)

It has been a while since the last time I did some Odyssey Analysis and here is an interesting question that goes on in this. A very valid question actually.

During the arduous trip in the Odyssey, the Cephallinians suffered greater loss than anything they suffered at the 10 year war at Troy. They lost almost all ships and all men were dying. They were reduced to a ship of a crew with less than 40 people and they didn't seem to get much hope. So of course one could ask; what was holding them back and didn't fight back against Odysseus apart from the indirect mutiny they did when he turned his eyes away from him to pray? Why their only mutiny was to disobey his orders and slay the cattle of Helios Hyperion? Surely more than 30 men could do plenty of damage to one man right? Why didn't they? And why is it important for the story?

So while thinking about it I came down with some possible explanations as to why that happened;

Odysseus was beloved to the gods

Regardless of their terrible situations, Odysseus probably still had the fame of someone beloved to the gods. He used to be directly communicating with Athena and was under her protection. Despite the fact that he was cursed by a god, there could be some sort of a thought running to their minds; what if we harm him and the gods strike us for it? What if there will be consequences for directly wishing harm to one who was blessed to be appreciated by gods? It could possibly be a risk that they didn't want to take. And it makes sense given how much Odysseus interracted even with minor gods during the trip (for example Aeolus or Circe). Quite frankly they might as well have wished that at some point Odysseus would appeal to yet another god for help.

Odysseus was beloved to his subjects

If you look at my other analysis here You can remember how beloved leader Odysseus was even to subjects such as slaves who in theory would have no real reason to be loyal to him. Odysseus seemed always to be a just and beloved leader and his men on the ship were not an exception. Regardless of whether they had lost faith hin him in his capability to bring him home or if they doubted his judgement, they couldn't get past the emotional connection; Odysseus had protected them during the war to the point of suffering the least possible losses, during the trip he was going to extreme measures to protect them (even the cruel misadventure in which Odysseus cut the rope from his ship to save the last ship from the Laestrygonians might as well have spoken volumes to the men that were saved). It would be hard for them to completely ignore that even in the face of mistrust. Somehow it would also be them thinking that they "owe him" till that part.

Odysseus was hiding stuff from them that could be important

Ironically the very source of their mistrust was protecting Odysseus. Odysseus didn't share with them the nature of the sack of Aeolus even if he seemed pretty clear that they couldn't touch it (and that led to their first tragedies). Later he hid the information that they would have to go through the Sirens till the very last moment where he warned them about it. Later he hid completely the information that they would go through Skylla and Charybdis. His men could think "How many more things did this man know on their way home and hid it from them?" if they captured or killed him in a mutiny how were they sure there weren't more dangers ahead that Odysseus was hiding from them and could either be informed the last moment or not at all? What guarantee did they have that Odysseus didn't know even MORE about their course? They had none. So ironically the very reason they began to mistrust him in the first place became the reason Odysseus was safe from their rage.

No one wanted to take responsibility at time of crisis!

Last and definitely not least comes for me the most important reason of all at least story-wise that shows how excellent writer Homer is into writing human nature. His men didn't stage a mutiny because no matter how displeased they were with his decisions, literally NO ONE wants to have the same responsibility to take decisions in time of crisis! Honestly, how many times do common folk feel themselves find a scapegoat usually to the face of their leaders when things go south? (and for good reason that is given that they are the ones with the responsibility to take decisions). When something goes wrong we blame the leader, the government or someone that has come forth and not only takes the decisions but also is responsible for the blame as well.

During their arduous trip Odysseus took some of the most painful decisions they could imagine in order to save what he could; he advised them to leave the Cicones and they didn't which led to their first tragedy; he tried to correct his mistake by appeasing the god Aeolus, he took the decision to sacrifice his ships in order to save the one he could knowing full well that they would never be able to fight against the Laestrygonians. He knew the 11 ships were lost cause so he acted fast cutting the ropes of his own ship and sailing away, making sure to save what he could even if that meant to the terrible loss. He traveled to the underworld even though he was alive, he chose Skylla over Charybdis knowing that the sacrifice would be too great but still not as great as to lose them all.

Regardless of their emotions at that moment; they put themselves in his shoes and realize that none of them would take the burden of leadership and take those decisions for them. Odysseus with his nerves of steel managed to save them so far even if they had so many losses and undoubtedly they realized that in his shoes they would never be able to act so efficiently and so fast. And knowing their own reactions against him; blaming him for the losses, they realize that none of them would have the guts to take not only the painful decisions but also the blame and hate that follows them. Odysseus was lifting on his shoulder as much hate and anger as very few others; not only his previous experiences at war and his actions but now his decisions of the trip. I have no doubt that even in their anger the men admired how he could carry it all.

Conlcusions:

Homer is a master of words and plot. I have no doubt that if he thought it served the plot he would have mentioned his men staging a full on mutiny against Odysseus or in one way I am almost certain he thought of the possibility being quite doable given as I said above that Odysseys was one man and the others were over 30. However knowing how great he is in protraying human emotions to his writing I think his choice of plot was deliberate.

Not only was Odysseus someone that could erupt not only controversy but also superstition given his close relationship with gods before, his leadership was always admirable regardless of the results (knowing his prudent nature and how plenty of his orders that were disobeyed ended up in a tragedy and let's face it Odysseus was also a brilliant fighter. I doubt anyone would easily take the first step to fight him one on one either!) and above all he was one of the best when it came on taking some really difficult decisions, carrying on his back not only the personal guilt he felt while taking them but also the anger of others and their retalliation. And in an amazingly human writing Homer speaks on times of crisis. When people do not wish to take responsibility at times of Crisis because they know full well that their decisions rarely ever would be painless!

Therefore they couldn't retalliate against him; they didn't want the responsibility of leadership or the blame for the losses. They didn't want to stand against authority directly either. So they took the indirect mutiny decision; when authority is not present they disobey or they break their will when the force of authority.

Could we perhaps one more time appeal to the usual theory of "unreliable storyteller" and speak on how Odysseus doesn't want to mention a mutiny in his story to Phaeakes because he doesn't want to appear as weak leader in their eyes?

We could but in my opinion this doesn't seem likely. Odysseus is already humiliated; shipwrecked and a beggar in their house. He mentioned how it was ellegedly his fault that the whole domino of reactions began when he mentions how he was yelling to Polyphemus being blasphemus that not even Poseidon could put him back together if he had killed him (which let's face it is too much given that gods had no probelm resurrecting some dead before). He had already mentioned his men not listening to him and disobedience was already a heavy thing. He didn't hide most of the unpleasant experiences during the trip so why miss the opportunity of shifting the blame to his men, saying that they stage a mutiny against him thus himself being unable to react instead of stating that he fell asleep during the prayer? To show that his men fear him so they do not dare to face him? Perhaps but it seems unlikely given the whole story in which Odysseus doesn't hide his bad sides from them.

What do you guys think? Let me know to your comments and reblogs below! ^_^

[drunkinyourbenz]

ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU

☆ SYNOPSIS: your parents' excitment about the election results left you with a pit of dread in your stomach. luckliy for you, you had billie, who helped you through it all.

☆ RELATIONSHIP: billie eilish x fem!reader

☆ WARNINGS: angst, comfort, politics, right wing family, implied homophobic family, long distance relationship (during tour)

☆ REQUESTED? yes, anon

☆ NOTE: hi my loves, i saw this request and just had to write it right away (literally wrote it in half an hour lmao) for anyone needing comfort as well as the anon who requested this, i hope you're doing okay. i'm not from america, but i'm also deeply dissapointed about the election results, and i feel for all of you who are there. i hope i did this request justice, i don't have a family who's like super against my views so i hope this is okay <3 anyone with family celebrating like the readers is in this story, please imagine me giving you the biggest hug rn, i hope you're coping okay. my dms are always open if you want to talk about anything at all, i love you all, please stay safe <33

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2k words

you and billie had been dating for a while now, and she made you happier than anyone ever had before. she was your other half, and without her you would feel incomplete. you weren’t on tour with her, much to both of your disappointments. but you’d had personal things that took up your time at the start of tour, so the plan was that you’d join her once she came on tour to your city, and you’d join her for the rest of tour. despite not being on tour with her, your mind always drifted back to her, she had a permanent residence in your heart. 

so naturally, on election night, you sat in your room thinking about her. you wanted nothing more than to be held by her in this moment, you’d slipped away from dinner as soon as you could, but you could still hear your family’s excited chatter coming from downstairs. the fact that they were happy about the way it was going, the way they wanted a future that was so drastically different from the one you had in your mind… it stung. your parents genuinely wanted a future that you weren’t sure whether you had a place in, and you didn’t really know what to do with that information.

you were trying to stay off social media, to stay away from the news, because you knew it wouldn’t help you—you couldn’t change a thing. but every few minutes, you’d end up switching back to the tab on your laptop with the live updates, feeling a sense of dread settling in your stomach. you couldn’t quite comprehend how so many more people had voted for him, the man who made you genuinely fear for your future. 

so finally, you texted billie. you needed her comfort, even though it would just be her voice over a call. you needed her. 

can i call you??

billie replied not long after, her text simple. 

bils: ofc baby

her contact calling you came up on your screen before you could even move to call her, and you automatically accepted the face time. her face popped up on your phone after a moment, and as well as the tiredness from tour you’d been seeing so much of lately, she looked just as crestfallen as you. the two of you shared the same opinions on this, and you knew how much billie cared about it. 

just as the call loaded properly, you heard a loud cheer from downstairs, and you couldn’t stop the grimace that appeared on your face. billie’s lips curved down in a soft, sympathetic frown, “oh, baby.” 

a sigh left your lips, the sound somewhat defeated, “i just… i don’t know how they want that. it feels like they want a future that i’m not safe in–” billie cut you off with an understanding sigh, she knew that if she let you keep talking, you’d simply spiral. she knew what you meant, you felt a rift between you and your parents, you felt unsure of what that meant for your relationship with them. billie herself had never experienced it, with her own family being supportive and sharing her views, but she had always been good at comforting you. 

“i’m so sorry, baby. you know that me and my family have always got you, no matter what, yeah? we’ve got your back, we’re always here for you. all of us.” 

your lips curled into a soft pout, her words lessening the sadness you were feeling. “i love your family.”

she smiled softly at you, “and we love you. always.” 

you cracked a small smile at her words, the disappointment behind your eyes still very much evident, but you felt an overwhelming feeling of love for the people in your life. even if your blood-related family didn’t understand, you had your chosen family. that small fact that you had your people, who agreed with you on these things, it helped to soften the blow of your parents wanting the country to go down such a different path than you did. only slightly, but it helped. you felt the pain dull slightly. 

the two of you stayed on the phone for a while, billie distracting you from your parents downstairs by telling you about the tour so far. obviously, she was also upset about everything going on, but she knew you needed this support and that was more important than talking about it. she just wanted you to feel okay. you could feel the emotions hanging around both of you even through the phone, but you appreciated that she wasn’t mentioning them right now. you’d have plenty of time to talk about the election later, once you didn’t feel so despairing about the future. 

after about half an hour of the two of you just talking, you decided to ask her something. 

“bils?” 

“hmm?” she hummed, looking up as if she could sense the importance of what you were about to say even through one word. 

“do you… do you think i could join you on tour a bit earlier than planned? i just don’t know if i can stay in this house for any longer, it’s just–”

“of course.” 

her instant, firm reply cut off your rambling and you sighed in relief, “thank you–”

“don’t thank me, darling. i just want you to feel safe.” she paused, thinking, “you could join us on the minnesota dates, if you want. there’s two days there, so it gives you more time to get here. i can book you a flight–” 

you smiled at her considerate words, the way she was taking everything into account. oh, how you loved her. “that sounds perfect. and don’t book first class this time, jesus. i can put up with an economy flight, i’m used to them. plus,  i get to see you at the end of it.” 

she smiled warmly, “mm, you do. and then i’m wrapping you up in a massive hug and never letting you go, because i love you.” 

you giggled softly at her words, “i think i’m looking forward to seeing maggie more, actually.” 

billie rolled her eyes fondly, her mother just adored you. “i don’t blame you.” 

the two of you talked into the night, and were still on the call when you woke up. you weren’t aware that you’d fallen asleep, and you probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for her soothing voice.

it was now the early hours of the morning, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains you’d forgotten to shut. the house had gone silent by now, your parents finally asleep, and you felt a tiny bit of peace just laying there in the silence. you looked at the screen for a moment, simply admiring her pretty sleeping face, the way her eyelashes fluttered slightly and her chest rose and fell with each breath. this time in a few days, you’d be in her arms again. 

you let out a soft sigh. the country may be falling apart by the seams, but you had billie. you had her, so you’d be okay. 

[sunkifye]

brozoned

pairing— bsf nishimura riki x fem reader

genre— fluff, high school au

synopsis— riki’s crush can’t seem to stop calling him “bro”

warnings— teasing, probably grammatical errors

word count— 621

author’s note— pulled this bad boy outta my drafts

“ok class, looks like we’re done early. just stay in your seats and wait for the bell to ring before leaving!” your math teacher ordered while erasing the board.

“just a few more minutes until lunch,” you said as you began to answer a question on your math homework.

“finally, I’m starving” riki complained while watching you. you sat at the desk next to him, working diligently on the homework your teacher had just assigned.

“we just spent 40 minutes straight doing math problems, why are you doing even more math?” riki asked, somewhat disgusted.

“so I have less homework to do later,” you stated simply, picking up your calculator and punching in some numbers.

“I feel like you’re always doing homework,” riki replied.

“bro what?? I don’t think so,” you shrugged while writing down a number.

“oh really? then what else do you do?” riki asked.

“uhmm… well…” you started, beginning to lose focus on your homework.

“see? you don’t do anything else but study, you’re so boringgg,” riki said, rolling his eyes.

“me? boring? yeah right!” you scoffed, permanently shifting your attention away from your homework and now to riki.

“this is why you don’t have a boyfriend,” riki teased, which only made you more annoyed.

“excuse me?! I’ll have you know that I could easily get a boyfriend if I wanted one!” you defended yourself which only made riki laugh.

“what’s so funny?! you’re single too, idiot!” you snapped, making riki go silent.

“I don’t even think you have a crush on anyone because you’re such an anti-romantic,” you rolled your eyes before going back to working on your homework. but now riki was completely silent and the sudden silence was slowly killing you on the inside.

“you don’t have a crush on anyone…right?” you asked, looking back up at riki. he looked away, which made you go “ooooh” in a curious tone.

“so you dooo have a crush? tell me who it is!!” you insisted but riki shook his head no.

“tell me! tell me! tell meeee!” you begged, poking his shoulder.

“it doesn’t really matter. I don’t think I have a good chance with her anyways,” riki stated, hoping that you would stop bugging him.

“what do you mean ‘you don’t have a good chance?’” you asked, even more intrigued than before.

“well…” riki sighed, accepting his fate. he knew he had to tell you or else you wouldn’t stop annoying him.

“she keeps brozoning me…” riki admitted, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“brozoning you?” you asked.

“yeah, like she’s always calling me ‘bro.’ so I don’t think she likes me,” riki explained, which made you furrow your eyebrows.

“brooo that doesn’t even matter though,” you replied, trying to reassure riki.

however, riki just went silent again as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

whilst sitting in silence, the realization finally clicked in your brain, causing you to widen your eyes.

“oh,” you muttered, making riki slightly nod his head.

“yeah,” riki said under his breath, avoiding your gaze.

“well in that case… I think you have a pretty good chance with her,” you said whilst smiling, catching riki completely off guard.

before either of you could say anything else, the bell rang and your classmates began to rush out of the classroom. riki watched you put your folders and notebook into your backpack. with a small smile plastered across your face, you swung your bag over your shoulder and scurried out of the classroom. snapping back into reality, riki quickly shoved his belongings into his backpack, swung it over his shoulder, and ran out of the room after you.

I guess you could say riki was no longer in the “brozone.”

[hannamoon143]

Heather-Conan Gray

Lee Minho with "Heather" from Conan Gray for the fall series

genre: angst, hurt/no comfort

Warnings: crying, unrequited Love,

Wordcount: 866 w

Fall series masterlist

a/n: soo i love the song heather, and @coichii also reccomended for me to write it so yesss, tell me how yall like it. Reblogs and comments r appreciated! have a cozy fall!<333

You were staring at minho’s sweater in your closet, the smell of his cologne and his cats that always snuggled into his sweaters, long vanished. He asked for it a multiple times, but you always said you didn’t know where it was, until he forgot about it. Just like he did with you.

Everything went down after the third of december. You hoped one day you could forget and move on.

                                              ____

The 3rd december: It was cold outside and you were only wearing a thin shirt. Minho and you were meeting in the park at your usual spot, with hot coffees and the latest gossip. When you were shivering he noticed, and he slipped his sweater off, giving it to you. That time, it gave you a warm, fuzzy feeling. Putting it on, you inhaled minho’s unique, comforting scent. „It fits you better than me anyways, smartass.“ He said. You couldn’t stop smiling then, as you continued telling him a story that happened to you lately. But  suddenly when you were looking up at him, you stopped mid sentence. He seemed to not be listening anymore, his eyes looking somewhere in the distance. When he didn’t even notice that you had stopped talking, you followed his eyes and then you saw her. A beautiful, tall girl, with long wavy hair and a doll face. You looked at minho again. He wasn’t just looking at her, he was… mesmerized.

Suddenly the girl turned to the both of you, and she gave you a small wave, combined with a smile, pretty like the stars. Well the smile was probably more meant for him. Minho blushed deeply and turned away, starting to walk. You just followed him along, looking to the floor. You both didn’t talk, him on cloud nine, and you more like on the floor.  You knew that minho wasn’t feeling the same as you did, but probably you always still had a little hope. But to see him mesmerized by another girl, in a way he never was with you, stung deeply in your heart.

Then minho went home, leaving you alone with the sinking feeling of sadness. When you got home that day, you took his sweater off, throwing it into a corner of your room.

                                                    ___

After that, minho seemed to grow more distant. He often didn’t reply to your texts, and you wouldn’t meet up at all anymore. At some point you gave up on trying to reach out. He probably wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it hurt. Your best friend growing so distant to you. And not only your best friend….your love.

 You felt stupid for wondering why you grew distant, when one day you were walking to the convience store, and you saw him talking to the pretty girl wich’s name was heather how you found out. You stopped walking, just standing there and watching him. You had seen the girl around the town before, and from what you knew she was a literal angel. She was unbelievable kind, so pretty, you couldn’t even describe it, and something in her personality seemed to just fascinate minho. You were ashamed for wishing she wasn’t here, or anywhere in this world at all. You were thrown out of your thoughts when suddenly a shiver wrecked her body, and minho laughed. He took of his sweater, just like with you before, and gently slipped it over her head. They were both laughing, minho seemingly not even a bit cold in his short sleeved shirt. Hesitantly he laid an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. He blushed and looked away, while heather smiled and laid her head on minho’s shoulder.

But you couldn’t bare this anymore. He was never like this with you. You had never seen him so tender and shy ever before to be honest.

The warmth that seemed to embrace them wasn’t reaching you though. With every move, they did, every laughter they shared, you only got colder. For a second you were glad that minho had only eyes for her, so he didn’t notice a tear slipping down your cheek. He didn’t notice you at all. You cried yourself to sleep that night. Lonely, pained sobs echoeing through your cold, epmty room.

                                                        ___

Eventually minho asked you to hangout sometime after weeks of radiosilence. You got excited, and agreed. You wished you had just said no, after. The whole time he was rambling about how pretty and smart heather was, and about her cute habits, and how he wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend. When you heard that your breath hitched. You knew sooner or later this would come, but to hear it from minho’s lips was making it real. You faked a smile and told him what a great idea that was.

You were frustrated with yourself, for not telling him of your feelings sooner. Would it have changed anything? Maybe not, but at least you would have assurance.

                                                     ___

All of that didn’t matter now. Nothing did, as you were sitting on the floor in your room, staring at minho’s sweater. Cold, lonely and feeling forgotten. Oh, how bad you wished you were heather.

taglist: @lina-linny @onementally-unstabel-kid @darqlys @0omillo0

[sweetiesicheng]

the8 - fire escape

word count : 581

happy birthday to cutie minghao ~

-

"seungkwan, open up," you repeat as you knock on your friend's window, "seungkwan, don't text me an emergency text and not have the window open."

"whoever you are! i'm calling the cops!" you suddenly hear from behind the window you're knocking on.

you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "is that not 327?" you loudly ask.

then, the curtains open, revealing a guy who holds his phone in one hand. you can see the emergency phone call screen on.

"this is 306. 327 is on the other side of the building," the guy says to you. he puts his phone down and opens the window. "you didn't realize you're on the wrong side of the building?" he asks.

"it's too dark out. the lamps barely work on this street," you reply to him. "sorry about that. i'll leave," you say and start moving to go back down the fire escape.

the guy watches you for a second before speaking again, "wait." you look at the guy. he fully opens the window and gestures you to come inside. "come through here. it'd be stupid for you to go out and around again," he says to you.

"you don't even know me," you say to him, lifting your foot up from the ladder step below.

"considering i heard you calling for your friend, i highly thought you're trying to steal or hurt me," he says. "just this once."

"thanks," you say to him and walk over to his window. you climb inside to the guy's apartment. you take your shoes off as soon as you hit the ground and hold them with one hand. "nice place," you compliment as you look around the apartment.

"thanks," the guy responds. "uh, front door is right there," he says, pointing out the door to you.

"oh, thank you," you say to him. both of you walk to the front door.

you put your shoes on while the guy unlocks and opens his front door.

"sorry to bother you," you say to him. "have a good one," you say to him.

"yea, you too," the guy replies.

you leave the guy's apartment and start walking down the hallway. you look at the numbers on the doors and signage, checking that you’re going in the right direction.

finally, you make it to your friend's apartment and knock on the door. after a few seconds, the door opens.

"oh, y/n, there you are," seungkwan says. "why'd you come this way? i had the window open for you," he asks, a bit confused since you almost always use the fire escape.

"i'll explain in two seconds. let me grab something from here. i'll pay you back," you say to him and run into his apartment.

"what?"

you hurry into the kitchen and find a small bag of treats in a bag. you tear a piece of paper off of a notepad and write down a quick apology note before taping the note to the bag.

while seungkwan watches you and sits down at the counter, you hurry out of his apartment.

"be right back!"

you hurry down the hallway and make it back to the guy's apartment. you leave the bag of treats on the ground by his door and hurry back to seungkwan's apartment again.

once you're back in seungkwan's apartment, you close the front door. "long story short, i climbed up the wrong fire escape," you explain to seungkwan, "but the guy was kind of cute..."

"you what?!"

[repotting]

people who don't normally read sci fi have such bad taste in sci fi 😭

[crossbackpoke-check]

re your notes on the mack post: oh. my. gosh and also 100% AGREED 😵‍💫

(he and will are both ******* those old men lbr)

- @bondedpairs

sometimes i have brief moments of introspection in which i wonder whether or not there are things better left in my drafts and usually i say fuck it we ball and then we DO ball and i love y’all for that. would you still love me if i whip out my footnotes and references

FOOTNOTES:

*somewhere in there is an aside about mack having to think about joe stroking somebody ELSE’s dick on the bench and having a panic about it.

**i DO see the will smith mackelini celebrini ?!;&/‘os everyone has been posting. that is the devil talking as in i cannot become invested or else it will ruin me. f1vegas you are NOT forgiven for putting ‘the tk/pat parking garage vibes of it’ in front of my eyes like my! god! i do NOT WANT TO KNOW THE NARRATIVE (too compelling i think. too much to get into with the bc(?)/bu rivalry and zeev buium was there and there’s another shark too somewhere??. i can’t care about a fish a MACKEREL you guys and will smith is not allowed to be my sharks bicycle because the team whoré borde already exists!!) where i was trying to go is sometimes you both fuck the same old man and he’s like. losers. get a polycule. and they end up together (obviously to me jumbo is in an ???? with patty and burnsie)

ABBV. REFERENCES:

ro’s other post where mack says to “ask smitty about [hunting cougars]” (src: holyjost)

ko’s transcript of fun facts from the interview that made me too endeared. girl nobody made you take advertising courses?? change your major

aforementioned f1vegas post. this is by tags alone because after reading that i was not capable of watching the video

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[emocheol]

seventeen when you call them by their name

instead of a pet name

a/n: i forgot how long writing 13 different scenarios takes T-T

seungcheol

after a long day of practice cheol entered your shared apartment late at night.

even though he was trying to be quiet you still heard the click of the front door and his fumbling around in the entryway. so you decided to get up and greet him.

“seungcheol?” you asked sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you walked out of your bedroom.

he was so taken aback by his name that he didn't even reply for a good 30 seconds.

“i'm sorry for being home late,” he frowned, “don't be mad.” he whined softly, thinking you were upset with him. why else would you use his full name?

you looked at him quizzically and slotted yourself in his arms, he seemed to relax significantly at your touch.

“i'm not mad, what makes you think that?” you questioned, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“you called me seungcheol,” he pouted, “what happened to baby?” his pout intensified, his lip jutting out further.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, “i’m sorry, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the pet name, “i didn't know you liked it that much,” you cooed, putting your hands on his cheeks and smushing his face.

“don't tease me,” he grumbled, pretending to be upset, which just elicited another laugh from your end.

“fine, fine,” you said with your hands raised, mocking a surrender, “let's go to bed, baby, you've had a long day,” you suggested, pecking his lips and taking his hand to lead him to the bedroom.

jeonghan

you had been basking in jeonghan's company all day. it was a rare off-day for the idol and you spent every second possible with your boyfriend.

you were currently in one of your lulls of conversation, just sitting in comfortable silence on two different ends the couch while you both scrolled on your phones.

you saw a funny video while scrolling and knew your boyfriend would love it so you looked over at him and called his name.

“hey, jeonghan? look at this video,” you giggled, holding your phone screen in his direction.

but your boyfriend didn't pay you any mind. thinking he didn't hear you, you called for him a little louder.

“jeonghan? hello?” you scooted closer to him on the couch when you went unanswered again.

you poked his cheek and turned his head to make him look at you when he still didn’t answer.

“hello?” you questioned, noticing his nonchalant expression.

“oh? were you talking to me?”he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“yes? i said your name twice!” you whined, knowing he heard you but he was clearly ignoring you.

“no, you said ‘jeonghan,’” he said, making air quotes with his fingers, "and that's not my name," he pouted finally, showing a side of him that you didn't often see.

you realized what he was talking about and tried to hide a grin at his demeanor, “aww, i'm sorry, let me try again,” you cooed, going back to your previous side of the couch to reset.

“hannie... my angel, my sweetheart, my precious?” you tried, “come look at this video,” you laughed, his attention already on you as you listed your names for him.

“of course, my love,” he smiled, getting up from his spot and cuddling up to your side, “look at how easy that was,” he whispered, plucking your phone from your hands and watching the video that you had pulled up.

he pulled you into his arms and nuzzled his cheek against your head, scrolling and looking at more videos with you. “you're crazy,” you said with a laugh, pressing a kiss against his cheek, but you wouldn't want it any other way.

joshua

“joshua?” you called out from the kitchen while you were making dinner. he had been playing video games in the living room ever since his practice was over.

hearing his full name from you made his ears perk up and he quickly shut off his game, rushing to the kitchen.

“love?” he asked softly, putting his hand on your shoulder, already thinking he had upset you he didn't want to anger you further. “is everything okay?” he asked tentatively, testing the waters.

“huh? yeah, joshua, everything's fine can you just-”you said as you stirred the pot on the stove, not looking up at him while you were focused on perfecting the food.

but, when he heard his full name again and the classic 'everything's fine' line he quickly jumped to conclusions and deduced that everything was not fine.

he cut you off before you could finish talking and immediately went into apologizing.

“i’m sorry, love, i don't know what i did to make you upset but i'll fix it, okay?” he said with a weary smile, still with his hand on your shoulder, “was i on the game for too long? did you want me to help you cook? was i too loud?” he rambled, facepalming as he thought he had messed something up and made you mad.

as he rambled you slowly started to look over at him, his words confusing you to no end.

“why would i be upset?” you asked, looking at him as if he was crazy, which he was.

“what?” he questioned back, “you called me joshua and you haven't looked at me and you said everything was ‘fine’, that's like textbook upset partner.” he said, as if it was totally obvious.

you blinked at him a few times before you burst out laughing, “god, babe, you're hilarious!” you exclaimed, slapping his shoulder as you laughed. now it was joshua's turn to be confused since he was positive that you were upset.

“you’re not upset?” he questioned, you shook your head as your answer while you were still doubled over laughing, “why did you call me over then?” he asked.

you pointed to the glass jar on the counter next to you after you had composed yourself, “i was going to ask you to open that jar, dummy,” you teased.

joshua blew out a breath and quickly opened the jar with ease, “that's... it?” he questioned.

“yeah, that's it, you can go play your game some more,” you smiled, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“but you called me joshua...” he grumbled, you never called him joshua!

“which is your name, if i’m not mistaken,” you pointed out, pinching his cheek. he swatted at your hand and groaned.

he opened his mouth to start complaining more before you quickly stopped him. “okay, okay, i’m sorry babe, you can go play your game again.”

joshua gave you a firm nod, as if he was finally satisfied with your name for him. “okay. let me know if you need anything.” he grinned, kissing your head and then strolling back to the living room.

“you’re a child,” you whispered to yourself, continuing dinner with a smile on your face.

“but you love me!” he called back, somehow hearing you. well, he’s not wrong.

jun

‘thanks, junhui!’

that was the text that you had sent your boyfriend after he told you he bought you a book from the town he was currently in on tour.

he loved gift giving and he knew you loved books so he scoured every bookshop in the town to find the perfect book for you. he excitedly sent you a picture of the book he bought and that was your reply to it.

it made his head spin with reasons of why you could be mad at him.

calling him ‘jun’ was already a rarity in your relationship, but ‘junhui’? he wasn’t sure you’d ever called him that.

‘are you mad at me?’ he texted back, getting straight to the point.

you took nearly 10 minutes to reply, 10 agonizing minutes for jun.

‘not at all, i’ll see you when you get home’ was your response.

now this reply made him absolutely spiral, good thing he was returning home today. but because of your replies to him he made a few extra stops before hopping on the plane.

when you finally arrived back home from work you opened the door and was met with your sheepish looking boyfriend and what looked like a mountain of books behind him.

“babe! what are you doing here? and what is with all the books?” you exclaimed, jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.

jun was taken aback by your reaction, his mind stuck on the thought that you were mad at him. “i thought you were upset with the book i got you… so i kind of bought as many as i could fit in my luggage to make up for it,” he said, his cheeks slowly turning red when he realized you really weren’t mad at him.

you pulled your head back and gave him a look, “what made you think i was mad?” you asked, pulling away and starting to pick up the different books that were piling up on your coffee table.

“you called me junhui…” he whispered, saying it out loud made him feel stupid, it was just a name, his name in fact.

“are you saying that you bought me a hundred books because i called you by your first name?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

he nodded his head sheepishly.

“you are too cute!” you exclaimed, giving him another tight hug, “for the record, i’d tell you if i was mad at you,” you made sure to clarify.

“okay…” he said softly, looking at the absurd amount of books, “should i return all of these now, or-” he began to speak before you cut him off.

“absolutely not,” you said quickly, snatching a book and sitting on the couch beginning to read.

jun slowly made his way next to you and laid his head in your lap, getting comfy while you read aloud to him.

hoshi

“honey?” you called out in your apartment, waiting for hoshi to reply to you. you needed help folding the laundry and hoshi was always eager to help you do whatever you needed.

you heard a distant, “give me a minute!” come from your shared bedroom where your boyfriend was no doubt playing video games again.

you rolled your eyes at his response and started folding the laundry on your own, giving him a few minutes before calling for him again. “honey? i need your help out here,” you called again, waiting to hear his footsteps.

but instead you got another, “just a sec!” which made you pull out the big guns. hoshi hated you calling him by his name, he said he sounded like you were scolding him. but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“kwon soonyoung! i said i need your help!” you called out even louder than before, knowing that would get him.

once his name left your mouth you heard fumbling coming from the room and the door opening quickly, his feet slapped against the floor as he ran over to you.

he already had the expression of a kicked puppy, “i told you not to call me that!” he pouted, standing in front of you.

you gave him a look and pointed at the spot on the couch next to you, “sit,” you said simply. of course, he followed with no question.

“‘m sorry!” he whined when you wouldn’t talk to him, “i was doing really well! you know how hard that game is, and we were winning!” he tried to explain, sloppily folding clothes next to you as he rambled.

“soonyoung?” you said, cutting him off with his name again.

“what,” he said with a frown.

“just fold the damn laundry,” you said with a sigh, grabbing the clothes that he had folded and redoing it properly.

“you’re scary when you’re mad…” he whispered, starting to fold every item of clothing meticulously so you didn’t have anything to be upset with.

he spent the rest of the day giving you his undivided attention and trying to make up for making you upset.

when you finally called him ‘honey’ at the end of the night his face lit up and you forgot why you were even mad with him in the first place.

wonwoo

you were out shopping with wonwoo when something caught your eye from the window of a store. you tugged on your boyfriends coat sleeve.

“wonwoo-” you started, but you were quickly cut off.

“try again.” he said simply, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“wonwoo?” you questioned, tugging his arm again and making him stop walking.

“try again.” he repeated, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pretending to scroll on it.

“wonwoo, what are you-” he cut you off once again with a look.

“one more time, sweetheart,” he said, pointing you in the right direction. this made it click in your head and you just scoffed.

“babe?” you tried, finally his attention turned towards you and he showed off his award winning smile.

“yes, sweetheart? what do you need?” he asked, his voice sweet as honey.

“you're impossible,” you laughed, “i want to go into that store,” you pointed at the clothing store next to where you were stopped.

“then let's go,” he grinned, pulling your hand and leading you into the store, “you know if you call me by my name people might not think we're together,” he said as if it was an obvious fact.

“we're literally holding hands and wearing matching outfits,” you pointed out, which just earned a shrug from your boyfriend as he started grabbing different pieces of clothing that he thought would look good on you.

sure, he was a subtle guy, but he wanted everyone to know that you were his.

woozi

“jihoon, i'm home,” you called out into the apartment. you had a meeting that lasted much longer than usual and it was already dark out when you returned.

your boyfriend had been home all day and by the smell of fresh food you could tell that he had been cooking.

you slipped off your shoes in the entry way and tossed your bag on the couch before slipping into the kitchen and coming up behind your boyfriend. you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder while he stirred the pot in front of him.

“jihoon?” he questioned, scrunching up his face at the mention of his full name. he didn't hate when you said his name, you just never did. “what're you calling me that for?” he asked directly, not assuming anything.

“i realized i don't call you by name, do you not like it?”you asked, lifting your head up and looking over at him, your arms still around him.

“i don't mind, i'm just used to baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “or babe,” another kiss, “love, sweetheart, honey, my one and only,” he listed, pressing a kiss to your face in between each pet name.

you couldn't help but smile at the affection you were receiving from your boyfriend, you pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return and let him resume his cooking while you watched from a seat at the island.

“but you're okay with jihoon?” you asked, wanting to make sure.

“i’m okay with you calling me jihoon,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at you, “but don't use it too much.” he said, giving you a pointed look.

he wouldn't say it out loud but he loved the sweet pet names you gave him, even the ridiculous ones.

minghao

“what did i do?” was the first words your boyfriend uttered when he walked into your shared home.

you looked up from your spot on the couch and tilted your head at him. “what do you mean?” you questioned, not understanding him.

“i mean, i can tell you're mad so i give you permission to yell at me, just tell me what i did first.” minghao said, bracing himself for whatever you would say to him. by no means did you fight often but whenever you got angry at him he would take it.

“i’m not mad at you,” you said, opening your arms, waiting for your boyfriend to join you on the couch. when he didn't come over you deadpanned, “well now i'm mad that you're not cuddling me.” you joked, waiting for him to come over.

he slowly walked over to you and pulled you against his chest, giving you a cautious look.

“then what was up with that text?” he questioned, pulling out his phone, “you said, and i quote, just wait until you get home, minghao,” he recited, “when have you ever called me by my first name?” he said like it was obvious.

“oh! i made your favorite dessert!” you said with a happy smile, pointing to the kitchen where his treat was freshly made and waiting on the counter.

his face went soft at your happy mood and he gave you a short kiss, “thanks, love,“ he said softly, “but your text did not make it sound like that.” he chuckled.

“oh right, i didn't want to give anything away so i called you minghao, was that too mean?” you asked, hoping you didn't make him worry.

he sighed with a smile and shook his head, “just a bit,” he said honestly, “you never call me minghao,” he pouted, half jokingly but also half seriously.

“i’m sorry, love,” you said, kissing his cheek, “i won't scare you like that again,” you teased, jumping up from the couch and pulling him up with you.

“come eat! i made it all for you,” you said with a smile, leading him to the kitchen and plating his dessert with a smile.

mingyu

mingyu had a cold. and when mingyu got sick he got dramatic. he was currently cuddled up in bed while you took care of him.

you would take his temperature, give him medicine, cook him some soup, and keep him as comfortable as possible while you worked from home.

“mingyu, do you want some soup?” you asked softly, pushing his hair off of his forehead and feeling for a temperature.

his eyes shot open and his lip jutted out. “mingyu?” he questioned softly, “why are you calling me mingyu?” his voice wobbled a bit. but can you blame him? he’s a sensitive man.

“because that’s your name, baby, you don’t like it?” you asked, holding his hand, your voice softened at your boyfriend.

he shook his head at your question, he was always ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘gyu’.

“sorry, baby,” you cooed, “but do you want any soup?” you asked again, hoping it would fix his mood.

“don’t want soup, i want a kiss,” he said with a little mischievous smile, then puckering his lips.

you rolled your eyes, he knew you couldn’t say no to him, especially since he was sick and was on the verge of tears after you called him his first name. “you’re such a baby,” you groaned, “if i get sick it’s your fault,” you reminded him.

“then it’ll be my turn to take care of you,” he said as if it was obvious, leaning up a bit and catching your lips with his.

sure, mingyu was a big baby. but he was your big baby.

dk

dk had been stuck in practice all day while you had a free day. so, being the loving and doting partner that you were you decided to make your boyfriend some dinner. which also included making dinner for his 12 bandmates, but you didn’t mind. you were like a big family.

you were let into the building and made your way to their practice room, hands full of bags carrying multiple different containers full of food.

the boys were all sitting around the room during a break and you popped your head inside, leaving the bags in the hallway.

a few people looked over at you when you opened the door, but every head snapped your way when you opened your mouth.

“seokmin?” you asked, which caused some murmurs among the group.

dk couldn’t remember the last time he was called that name.

‘you better fix whatever you did wrong’ ‘why is she mad at you?’ ‘what did you do?’ different members began to ask all at once to your boyfriend, sending him into even deeper of a panic.

he jumped to his feet and made his way over to you. you didn’t look mad at him, but now he was worried. he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you into the hallway and closed the door to the practice room behind you.

“is everything okay? did i leave something on at home? did i forget to take out the trash?” he asked seriously, thinking of what he could’ve possibly done to elicit you calling him his first name.

you gave him a look in response, furrowing your eyebrows at his rambling. “no… i made you guys food,” you explained, pointing to all the bags on the floor by the two of you, “was just asking you to help me bring it in.”

“huh?” your boyfriend questioned, looking at the bags and then back up to you. “why’d you call me seokmin, then? i haven’t heard that name in ages!” he whined, tugging at your hand.

“oh? i texted jeonghan and told him i was coming over, he told me to call you seokmin,” you laughed, not thinking that he was going to take it that much to heart.

dk sighed and grabbed the bags, pecking your cheek, “thank you for dinner,” he said softly, opening the door to go back into the practice room with you trailing behind him.

his members all looked over and started laughing, apparently they were in on it too.

“you guys suck!” he groaned, “i’m keeping all this food to myself now,” he said childishly, hoarding all the bags by the two of you and trying to keep everyone else away.

eventually he caved and you all ate together, everyone thanking you and still poking fun at your boyfriend.

seungkwan

“seungkwan,” you tried to get your boyfriends attention, standing across the kitchen island from him.

his eyes left his phone and found yours, narrowing in the process. he didn’t say anything so you frowned.

“seungkwan?” he continued to stare at you and you grew slightly agitated since he was seemingly ignoring you.

“can you reply?” you asked with an attitude, crossing your arms.

“i’m just waiting for you to get it right,” he said, mirroring your body language and the amount of sass.

his words only confused you more. “get what right? you’re crazy,” you mumbled, basically having a staring contest with him.

seungkwan just scoffed and rolled his eyes, “my name! i’m waiting for you to get my name right,” he said as if it was obvious. “i am not ‘seungkwan’ to you.” he explained, putting his name in quotations with his fingers.

“are you waiting for me to call you sweetie?” you asked finally, a smile slowly starting to spread on your face. your boyfriend may be a little sassy but he was truly a sweetheart.

“maybe,” he replied simply, his arms still crossed as he waited.

you hummed at his response and then made your way around the island to hug him. “alright, sweetie, i was just going to ask where you wanted to eat tonight,” you grinned, pressing a few sweet kisses on his cheek.

his attitude instantly melted away at the pet name and he pulled you closer to him, “wherever you want, angel,” he replied simply.

it was that easy.

vernon

vernon isn't phased by much. but he does get a little salty when you use his first name on him. he says it sounds too much like a mother scolding him. so, of course, you tease him with it sometimes.

“hansol! can you come to the living room?” you called out in your home, not sure which room he was in.

soon you heard his footsteps and he walked into the room with a scrunched up face.

“yes, darling?” he exaggerated his pet name for you, hoping you'd get the hint.

you spun around in a circle and posed, showing off your new outfit to your boyfriend.

“what do you think? you like my new outfit?” you asked with a blinding smile, posing in a few different ways as your boyfriend watched.

“i think it looks lovely, babe,” he exaggerated again.

“thank you, hansol,” you replied with a sweet smile.

“you look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he tried again.

“thank you, hansol,” you repeated, trying to keep your laugh at bay.

“positively perfect, my love.”

“i appreciate it, hansol.”

“absolutely stunning, angel.”

“you’re too kind, hansol.”

“that’s it, i’m ignoring you for the rest of the day.” he finally said after surveying you for a few minutes. he turned on his heel and walked back to your shared bedroom.

“no!” you called after him, “i’m just joking,” you said in between laughs as you walked fast behind him to catch up.

he shrugged his shoulders and sat back down at his desk, continuing his previous task before you had called him to the living room.

“don’t be sulky now, i was teasing,” you pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders and turning his chair to face you.

“it’s fine, y/n,” he said with a grin, now using your own name back as revenge.

“hey! you can’t call me that!” you whined in response.

“watch me.” he smirked, flicking your forehead gently.

oh how the tables have turned.

dino

this man rarely hears his name from anyone. it’s always ‘dino’ from his friends and ‘honey’ from you.

so when you started calling for ‘chan’ while you were asleep it made his heart break.

‘who is chan?’ he thought to himself, you couldn’t be cheating on him with another guy. right? you wouldn’t do that, he knows you.

but still, once the thought got placed into his head (by no one but himself) he couldn’t help but shake it.

the next morning he was nervous, he didn’t know how to confront you, or what he would do if his suspicions were correct. so while you were making breakfast for the two of you he mustered up the courage to go into the kitchen and talk to you.

“good morning, honey,” you said with a cheery smile, noticing him right away as he made his way next to you. you caught his lips with a quick peck but noticed that he seemed a little tense. “something wrong?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

dino just wrung his hands together and frowned. “do you have something to tell me?” he asked softly, already feeling on the verge of tears as he looked down at his feet, not making eye contact with you.

“no? what’s this about?” you asked, turning the heat down on the stove so you could give him more of your attention.

“i just,” he started, “well um…” he tried again, “i heard you talking in your sleep and you were calling out for some guy named ‘chan’ and i know wouldn’t cheat on me or anything but who is chan?” his words spilled out of him and he was talking a mile a minute while you looked at him, your eyes widening.

he was bracing himself for the answer to his question, ready for the worst.

“honey…” you said gently, taking both of his hands in yours and making him look at you, “you are chan.” you explained, trying to hide your smile since he was clearly so distraught.

“huh?” he asked, not understanding what you were getting at.

“honey, your name is lee chan,” you reminded him.

you could see the gears shifting in his head before his cheeks immediately heated up. he snatched his hands from yours and slapped his face. he was chan. and he couldn’t feel any stupider.

he was so used to being honey that he forgot his literal name.

“forget this happened…” he mumbled, walking away as you stifled your laughs.