#when you buy it they try to tell you it means something or it’s from somewhere special

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [9] - Tranquility

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your patience! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Simple days can be calming.

Word Count: 2853

CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was very fun.

“I mean to repeat, I do have a hammer at home,” you said, leaning your elbows on the cart as you pushed it slowly and Logan raised his brows.

“Just a hammer?”

“Yeah, I wanted to put up that framed picture of me and Theo so Jamie brought it and then forgot it.”

“Exactly why we’re here.”

Home Depot wasn’t really your favorite place to shop in, you couldn’t even remember when the last time you had been there was. Needless to say, you felt a bit overwhelmed as you looked at the aisles with many tools and construction products, but Logan seemed right at home there, and the simple act of going shopping together -whether it was at a store you were familiar with or not- made you feel all warm inside.

Who knew the aftermath of breaking your bed would be fun as well?

Logan grabbed a pack of what seemed like tiny pieces of metal to put it in the cart, and you looked around, then gasped.

“Let’s get these, they look prettier!”

“Screw anchors?”

You tilted your head.

“Well if you feel that strongly about them…”

“No I mean— that’s what they’re called.”

“They’re yellow, I like yellow!” you said, grabbing the pack off the hook to hold it up and Logan chuckled.

“Sweetheart, if we’re going to use them on your bed, they need to be metal. Your bed frame is metal.”

You looked down at the pack. “Oh, these look plastic.”

“Mm hm, they are plastic.”

“Well, where do people use these?”

“On drywall, mostly,” he said. “When you’re hanging—hold on, did Jamie just put a screw into the wall for those frames you mentioned?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat and took the pack from you to put it into the cart as well.

“Yay!”

“Anything else you want from here?”

You looked over at the shelf, then shook your head and Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to himself as you both went into another aisle.

“So wait, you need to put stuff into the wall to put stuff into the wall?”

“Mm hm.”

“Why?”

“Well, otherwise the screw can slip out of the wall when you hang something,” he said. “Anchors make sure whatever is on the wall doesn’t fall on anyone. It’s the same logic with anchoring furniture.”

“None of my furniture is anchored.”

“Babe, you have a mirror in your living room.”

“I just leaned it to the wall,” you pointed out and Logan heaved a sigh, then gently guided you into another aisle.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a drill?”

“Good guess—Logan, we’re not buying a drill!”

He went closer to one of the shelves to grab one to check it. “Why not?”

“I’m not gonna use it.”

“I’m gonna use it, I don’t want that mirror to fall on you.”

“It’s on the other side of the room.”

“Accidents happen,” he said. “That thing needs to be anchored along with God knows what. Every home needs a drill.”

You scrunched up your face, leaning back to the shelf.

“Debatable,” you said. “Every home needs a medicine cabinet. A drill is just something people in home makeover shows use.”

“What are makeover shows?”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God, you’ve never watched those? We’re so watching those, I need your commentary.”

Logan turned the drill in his hand and you bit inside your cheek, trying to fight the urge to jump on him in the aisle of Home Depot. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus and crossed your arms.

“Not that one,” you said and Logan turned his gaze to you.

“Why not?”

“We should get that one,” you pointed at the other drill on the shelf and Logan bit back a smile.

“Babe, that one is 12 volts. This one is 18.”

“Volt isn’t everything,” you said as if you knew what you were talking about and Logan pulled his brows together.

“It is kind of important in a drill—”

“Yeah but Logan, that’s orange,” you said and grabbed the pack of yellow plastic anchors out of the cart to hold it up. “See? They’ll match if we get this one!”

Logan stared at you as if he was trying to find the right words to disagree with you but you pulled your brows together before putting the pack next to the drill so that he could see it better.

“Same shade!” you insisted as you pressed your finger on the drill, looking up at him and the corners of his lips twitched, that fond light shining in his eyes before he nodded slowly, then put the drill in his hand into the shelf to grab the one you were pointing at.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get the matching drill then.”

                                                 *

At first you had been worried about being too much of a bother when Logan said he’d be fixing your bedframe but now, sitting on the couch eating the snacks you got on your way back home, you couldn’t help but notice Logan looked very comfortable and happy to be helping you out. Right after you got back home, he fixed your bedframe but apparently having a drill and a toolbox within his vicinity had awakened something in him that he was now working on what could be “fixed” in your living room.

You could’ve sworn his face had lit up like a Christmas tree when you mentioned you had shelves somewhere that you had been procrastinating on putting up.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” you asked as you popped a piece of chocolate in your mouth and he shook his head, holding the shelf against the wall to draw on where he’d put it up.

“No need princess.”

“I could help, I have some experience in it,” you pointed out. “Not very pleasant experience but experience nonetheless.”

“How’s that?”

“Um, when I was a child, whenever something broke in our house my dad would want to fix it himself,” you said. “And he’d ask me to hold the flashlight and but then scold me for pointing it at the wrong place.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.”

He looked at you over his shoulder before grabbing the drill and turned it on, making you grimace at the loud noise. He drilled two holes in the wall, then grabbed the plastic anchors and the hammer to nail them in.

You’d had a wet dream like this.

“How did you learn how to do all this?�� you asked him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve been around for some time. You pick up hobbies.”

“And that’s your hobby?”

“I like fixing things,” he said. “And building stuff.”

You sat up straighter, your whole attention on him.

“Okay, so I can add it to the list of things I know about you,” you said with a bright smile. “I’m quite proud of myself you know, growing that list isn’t the easiest thing in the world.”

Logan shot you a small grin. “Subtle.”

“Hey I’m just warning you beforehand,” you said, holding your hands up. “You won’t even see me coming and before you know, you’re opening up to me.”

“Oh is that what’s gonna happen?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m too stubborn to quit.”

Logan’s smile was calm before he took a deep breath, then started working on the shelf again.

“It’s just…” he murmured. “A long story, you know? Too much to tell.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly. “I’ve got time. And until then, you can listen to me talk about absolute nonsense.”

“I like doing that, in case it escaped your notice.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest and you took a deep breath, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“So yeah, I apparently held the flashlight wrong. And there was also that one time—I’m just not the best at fixing things, there was that one time Julie tried to teach me how to change a tire but I ended up convincing her to go get mimosas instead. She’s really good at all that, I swear she and IKEA manuals have something going on that the rest of us human kind cannot understand, she built my wardrobe and I honestly just provided her with cookies—oh my God, Logan!” you said with a gasp. “Do you want cookies?”

A fond smile curled his lips as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“No seriously, I know you liked the chocolate chip ones but I’ve been dying to try this new recipe, it has mint chocolate—do you like mint chocolate? I hope you’re not one of those people who say mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste because I am a ride or die mint chocolate lover, but I think I can also make—”

You were cut off when he strode to you to lean down and kiss you, cutting you off before you let out a giggle.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling back to look at you better. “I’d love some.”

You beamed up at him and stole another kiss from him.

“So yes to the mint chocolate cookies then?”

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, that loving look in his eye making your heart skip a happy beat.

“Sure thing sweetheart,” he said. “Yes to the mint chocolate cookies.”

                                                        *

The more time you spent with Logan, the giddier you felt. You knew that you were supposed to keep yourself in check and play it cool considering everything between you two was very new, but it felt as if since you two had got together, you hadn’t been able to stop smiling.

Or it could’ve been just mind-blowing sex.

Either or.

“I’m not really much of a TV person.”

“And I respect that, but not having seen Titanic is simply just not acceptable,” you said as you poured the popcorn into the bowl and made your way to the couch. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you to his lap, making you let out a squeal as you straddled him with a giggle.

“You’re not distracting me this time,” you told him, pecking him on the lips before getting off his lap to sit beside him, still holding the popcorn bowl tight. You grabbed the remote to start the movie while Logan frowned at the screen as if it had personally offended him.

“I mean I heard about it,” he said. “It’s romance, right?”

“The best romance in the history of humankind.”

Logan pulled his brows together.

“So low expectations, got it,” he said. “The title suggests it’s not gonna end well?”

“Listen, they may have only known each other for four days—”

“Four days?!”

“Yeah but it was true love,” you said in a solemn manner, nodding your head and Logan’s frown deepened.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

“That’s totally how it works,” you said. “It’s like opposites attract wrapped in star-crossed lovers wrapped in a tragic love story. I watched it for like 50 times, it’s my comfort movie. I always cry at the end.”

“Your comfort movie is a movie that makes you cry?”

“Yeah,” you said and grabbed at his arm when turned to look at the screen. “Look, that’s Jack! That’s who Rose falls in love with—wait, Logan, I have a question.”

“Hm?”

“So you were around when Titanic happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember it?”

“I remember the news of it, yeah,” he said. “Everyone was shocked by it.”

You took a deep breath to ask him another question but your doorbell rang. You turned your head and stood up but Logan was faster than you, so he walked to the door to open it and as soon as he did, Julie’s voice reached you.

“Holy shit you’re tall.”

“Julie?” you asked as you approached the door and Logan stepped aside. “Hi!”

“Hey, sorry I didn’t…” she motioned at Logan. “It’s just that I texted you and you didn’t answer, and I was on my way here anyway because who just got out of a terrible argument with her ex dickhead of a boyfriend and needed some distraction?”

“Jesus, that asshole again?” you asked and she nodded.

“Yep.”

“Come in!” you said and Julie shook her head.

“No no, I really don’t wanna interrupt your sexy time.”

Logan tilted his head while you shot her a lighthearted glare.

“Come in,” you insisted, pulling her by the arm before closing the door. “We’re watching Titanic. Logan, this is Julie, my best friend. Jules, this is Logan—” you paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.

Boyfriend was a big title and you hadn’t really talked about it before, and you actually didn’t know where Logan stood on this whole thing so you decided to play it safe.

“I told you about him,” you ended up saying and Logan extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Julie said, shaking his hand. “You really are a good looking dude, and I was so right about the lumberjack vibes.”

Logan blinked a couple of times as if he didn’t know how to answer. “…Thanks?”

“No problem.”

“I’m pouring you wine,” you said, making your way to the kitchen with Julie following you, and Logan lingered in the hallway for a moment before going back to the living room.

“Are you sure it’s cool I’m crashing your date?”

You took out a wine glass before pouring some wine in it.

“I’ll be offended if you ask me that again,” you told her and she hugged you, making you smile and press a kiss on her cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to like, buy a baseball bat and threaten him?”

“Nah I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back to take the glass from you. “It’s just fucking frustrating.”

“Screw him, he’s an idiot,” you told her as you held her other hand and you both went into the living room.

“Hey man, sorry about the interruption,” Julie told him, flinging herself on the armchair and Logan shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. No interruption other than me trying to figure out how these two people will have the ‘greatest love story’ in four days.”

“It is true love!” you said, smacking the back of your hand into your palm to emphasize each word and Logan chuckled.

“Yeah alright, sorry. True love.”

“Weren’t you around when this happened?” Julie asked, motioning at the screen and you grinned.

“We share one braincell,” you told her and Julie crossed her arms, looking at Logan.

“Did you meet Thomas Edison?”

Logan looked almost confused. “Uh, no?”

“Good, he was an asshole. Did you meet Victor Hugo?”

Logan paused for a moment, then turned to look at you. “Are you guys all secretly French?”

“No, we just watched Les Miserables one hundred times,” you answered while Julie sighed.

“A masterpiece, if you will.”

“Better than this whole true love in four days thing?” Logan asked, motioning at the screen and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Careful there buddy, you’re on thin ice.”

Logan shot you a grin, making you smile back before you turned to Julie.

“Seriously, what happened with that jerk?”

“Oh you know, the usual drill. He called me drunk, started with begging and then that whole thing turned into him listing every single bad thing about me.”

“He was the one who cheated on you.”

“Yeah and you’d think he’d remember that.”

Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him.

“I can beat him up if you want,” he said in such a matter-of-fact tone that it made you look up at him in confusion. Julie let out a small laugh.

“You, I like you,” she said, pointing at him before she looked at you. “I approve.”

“Aw thank you.”

“That being said,” she said. “Logan, you seem like a really nice guy but make no mistake, if you upset her in any way, I’ll get the biggest magnet I can find and point it at you so that I can pull that metal skeleton of yours out of your body.”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening and Logan’s smile widened as if he was merely amused. “Don’t listen to her. She’s nice to me and terrible to everyone else.”

Julie blew you a kiss and Logan nodded his head.

“Noted,” he told Julie and Julie grinned at him.

“See? You and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You heaved a sigh, then grabbed the bowl to hold it out for Julie to take some popcorn. She grabbed a handful, then leaned back to watch the movie while you leaned your head on Logan’s chest, trying to pay attention to the movie. Logan nuzzled into your hair and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making your stomach do a happy flip and you felt a smile warm your face before you bit on your lip, then turned your gaze to the screen again.

[kinardsevan]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

i don't know that i'm satisfied with how this ends, but the stills got me thinking more about the idea of Maddie being the one who tells Buck that he needs to call Tommy, and then I was already working on a coffee date recreation, so have this:

-

Maddie looks at the loaves of bread spread out on the counter and then back up at her brother, tilting her head to the side. 

“Evan. I thought you said you were doing okay,” she states, leaning up at against the counter next to her husband. 

“I am,” he insists. 

“So why are there four loaves of bread on the counter,” Chimney asks, confused. “That seems like you’re overloading your schedule to occupy your time.” 

“I’m not,” Evan counters, looking back and forth between them. They both stare back at him skeptically. 

“Dude, come on,” Chimney insists. “I know that sweater you had on the other night was one of Tommy’s. Between that, the lack of shaving, and now the abundance of food-..”

“I’m dealing,” Evan insists. Maddie sighs, looking over at her husband. He raises his hands and picks up his wine glass before glancing between them. 

“I’m gonna go see what’s on the sports channel,” he states before walking out of the room and into the living room. Maddie moves closer to Evan, rounding the counter. 

“I’m fine,” he repeats, but when Maddie looks up at him with that face—the one that tells him she isn’t buying the shit he’s selling—he sighs and shakes is head. “I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? It’s not like we were together that long.” 

“Six months,” Maddie states. 

Evan nods. “Yeah, and? I mean I was with Taylor for longer. She actually moved in here.” 

Maddie stares at him for a moment and then furrows her brow at him. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” Evan insists. “It doesn’t mean anything when Tommy doesn’t think I’d stay with him anyway.” 

“No, no, it clearly means something,” Maddie counters. “I’m not letting you drop it that easily. Talk to me. Tell me what actually happened.” 

Evan huffs, leaning against the counter. 

“We were talking about Abby, and I was telling him how that relationship had been transformative for me, at least until I met him, a-and then I told him that I wanted him to move in with me.” 

“Okay,” Maddie replies, processing his words. “And you told him you love him, right?” 

Evan stares at her as though she’s gone Blue Screen on him and she bobs her head forward, gaping at him slightly. 

“Evan.” She comments. “You told him how you feel, right?” 

“I- I thought- I mean we-..” 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t fake that I’m not paying attention this long,” Chimney states as he crosses back into the kitchen. “You asked Tommy to move in with you without telling him how you feel about him?” 

“I told him I admire him,” Evan argues. 

Maddie inhales a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to remain composed as she returns to Chimney’s side. “What exactly did you say to him?” 

Evan gulps, but then proceeds to explain to both Maddie and Chimney was he said, trying his best not to paraphrase. By the time he’s finished, Maddie and Chimney are looking at each other, both of their jaws slack. 

After a moment, Chimney turns back toward his glass of wine and picks it up and takes a long sip from it. 

“Yeah, I think I might’ve broken up with you too,” Chimney states when he sets the glass back down. 

“What the hell,” Evan counters, waving a hand out at him. 

“Look, Buck, you ran over him like the proverbial steam roller. And I’m sorry, but from the way it sounds, it comes across as being told that you want to live with him because he’s great at being gay and that makes you feel good,” Maddie explains. 

“Not to mention the Brandon of it all,” Chimney mutters, lifting his drink to take another sip. He raises an eyebrow when both Buckley siblings turn toward him. 

“The who?” “Huh?” 

Chimney takes a deep breath, mouthing an ‘oh’ before setting his glass back down. “This is why I’m not allowed to know things,” he mutters. He shakes his head. “Brandon was this kid Tommy dated around the time he was leaving the 118.” 

“I thought he wasn’t out yet,” Evan interjects. 

“He wasn’t,” Chimney answers with a nod. “But Brandon was this kid out of another house, one of the ones Tommy had looked at transferring to, I think. Anyway, you could tell after Gerrard and Sal were gone that he was loosening up and becoming more comfortable with himself, and even though he wasn’t quite there yet, he was getting there.” 

“So?” Evan asks. 

“So, three months into it, he tells me over beers that the guy wants to move in together, make all these plans for the future, is talking about buying a house. The whole nine yards. But Brandon was just coming out of a divorce, with a woman. Sold Tommy the moon, and T went for it. Gave up the place he was in, moved in with this guy into his apartment that he also was sharing with his two kids part-time.” 

Evan gulps, because he can see the writing on the wall. 

“See, Brandon hadn’t been with other men before. And they lasted about three months longer before Tommy found out that he was seeing other people. He alternated between mine and Sal’s couch for a month after that until he got the place he’s in now.” 

“He was in love with him,” Evan surmises in a rasp. 

“He thought he’d found the person he was supposed to be with,” Chimney says with a nod. “And when I tell you it took him years to get over that-..” 

“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath, leaning more against the island. 

Maddie waits a moment, glancing back and forth between her brother and her husband before she finally speaks up again. 

“So to be clear, I understand why Tommy panicked and took off, but why would you skip over actually telling him how you feel,” she asks. “I mean you have to get that that’s important. It probably would’ve made a massive difference in the conversation.” 

Evan inhales a deep breath and shakes his head, looking down at the counter. 

“Oh,” Maddie states. “You’re scared too.” 

He looks back up at her, his expression somber. “I mean people leave me. A-and that’s exactly what he did.” 

“Buck,” she coaxes, rounding the counter again. She runs her hand up his back as her other hand curls around the inside of his bicep. “You can’t be mad at him for being scared if you can’t also be honest about how you’re feeling.” 

He glances up at her, and his eyes are so sad that it makes her want to go into her mothering role and order him to call Tommy. 

“What if he won’t listen to me,” he rasps. She leans against his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. 

“I mean, I’ve never heard you even mention wanting to marry someone else,” she replies softly. “That’s gotta be worth something, right?” 

Evan stares down at the counter again. 

“You should call him,” Chimney interjects, when they look back up at him, he’s taking another sip of his wine. Maddie just chuckles at him before squeezing Evan’s arm and nodding. She leans up and kisses his cheek. 

“Call him.” 

. . . 

Evan pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he settles into the cafe chair. He’s not entirely sure Tommy will show, even though the other man had texted he would. He can’t help but feel the weight that’s been making it’s home in his chest just a little heavier right now. A week ago, they were celebrating six months from that first kiss, and somehow he’s finding himself sitting at a different café, but still, six months from the day that he’d asked Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding. 

So much is different now, though. He didn’t have to guess Tommy’s coffee order because he knows it by heart. There’s a box in his car filled with belongings that he really doesn’t want to give back, but if this discussion doesn’t go in the right direction, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. 

Still, he can’t stop thinking about the guy on the crane from the day before, and how after they’d gotten him off to the hospital, all Evan could think about was how his people had banded around him in the aftermath. His team had kept him alive, and then they’d remained vigilant at his side while he healed. He’d had people show up in his corner every step of the way. It’s not lost on him now that Tommy has faced a life primarily without that same feeling, and that unlike him, Tommy didn’t find a forged family at work. Plus, then there’s the information he learned about the ex-boyfriend, and all of it has him seeing Tommy in an entirely different lens. 

“Hey.” Tommy’s voice is raspier, sadder than the last time he heard it as he comes around the corner of the building. Evan still perks up at the sight of him, although he’s more subdued than the last time they met up like this. 

“Hey,” he replies softly, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.” 

Tommy nods, and there’s a rush of pain in Evan’s chest at the lack of of course. 

“I got you a coffee,” he adds, gesturing towards it on the table. Tommy pulls his chair out and sits down. 

“Thanks,” he says, though there’s no mirth in his tone like there was that first time.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Evan states nervously as Tommy takes a sip of the drink. There’s the slightest twitch around his mouth—one the younger man has come to recognize as Tommy thinking that it tastes right. He’s very particular on his flavor and cream-to-sugar ratio, so knowing he’s still getting right gives Evan a flush of pride. “The last time we met like this, I said there was a lot of that we didn’t know about each other.” 

“Practically everything,” Tommy parrots so softly, it barely has any vocal tone in it. Evan nods. 

“Except, I do know things about you now,” Evan counters. “I know- I know that you don’t like to be awake before seven AM if you’re not on shift. I know that you think the perfect setting for the thermostat is always sixty-six, no matter what time of year it is. I know that you take three creamers and the tiniest dash of cinnamon in your coffee.” 

“Buck-..” 

“Let me finish,” Evan counters, cringing at the way that name sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. He takes a deep breath and looks around them before continuing. “I know your mom died when you were six, and your dad blamed you for it. I know you spent the next eleven years trying to do anything you could to keep him appeased and a target off your back, including stuffing down who you are so far down that it took you over a decade to crawl back out of that toxic mindset. And I know that all of that left you with scars, even though you don’t talk about them. I know-…I know that you would rather run because it’s easier to protect yourself than sign up for the possibility of getting hurt again.” Evan pauses and gulps as Tommy stares at him, looking very uncomfortable. 

“So I need to apologize,” he says with a breath. 

Tommy furrows his brow at him, baffled by the statement. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“Yes, Tommy, I do,” Evan counters, this time more insistent than he had been on that first coffee date.“I  threw a lot at you that night. I- I know that I told you I wanted to move in together, and that I was talking about a future without any practicality behind it because I just lept with both feet like I always do.” 

“I didn’t call things off because of your impulsivity,” Tommy counters. “I did it because-..” 

“Because you’ve been down that road before,” Evan finishes for him. “And it ended badly. I know that about you, too. And, the way I sounded that night…it wasn’t what I should’ve said.” 

“Okay?” Tommy acquiesces. 

Evan takes another breath and leans forward in his seat, gesturing at the space between them. “You said that when I asked you to move in with me, that I was still figuring myself out, and that everything was still new and exciting for me. And the thing is, you’re right, and you’re wrong. You’re right that things are new and exciting, but not because they’re with a man; it’s because they’re with you. And six months ago when I told you that I didn’t know what I was ready for, that was true, but now I do. It’s not about being ready for something different, Tommy, it’s about being ready for something different with you. S-so when I say I lept with both feet the other night without thinking, I missed a step in there.” 

Tommy stares at him apprehensively, giving him the space to continue. Evan sits up a little straighter. 

“I got so caught up in the process of commenting on the ways things have changed and all that you’ve done to get yourself to where you are now that I never stopped to consider how it would sound coming out of my mouth. A-and part of that was because I thought if I just convinced you to stay with me, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if you decided that I was too much.” 

Tommy leans back in his seat, eyes widening slightly at Evan’s words. 

“I um, I know about Brandon,” he states. “And on the subject of exes, I never told you about Taylor, or how Lucy played into of how things ended with her.” He inhales a breath and then proceeds to explain Lucy’s time at the 118, their shared kiss, and how he’d been living with Taylor at the time. “And the thing is, when I moved in with her and told her I loved her, it was from a selfish place, o-of wanting to keep her around because people just kept leaving, and I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.” 

Tommy lets out a soft sigh and leans forward. “Evan.” 

Evan shakes his head. “No. Don’t- it’s not- I’m not saying all of that because I’m chasing after you to keep you from leaving. I- I mean I am, but not like that. I mean to say that, I trapped Taylor, however unintentionally, with the idea that if she was with me, that I could make it work. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t keep trying to make the pieces fit, and we split up.” 

Tommy nods. 

“But this isn’t that,” Evan continues. “This has never been that. I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you day and night. B-because I see a future with you, and because nothing has ever felt as right as this has felt. And I understand that maybe- no, it was moving too fast. And that I skipped right over the part where I should’ve told you that I want to be with you not because it feels good or because I think you being gay makes me better at being bisexual, or anything like that. I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.” 

Tommy takes a deep breath at his statement. 

“I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not there, a-and I don’t expect you to move in with me. That was an impulsive decision. But I’m not in a place where I’m ready to give up on this,” he states. “I love you enough that I’m willing to go at your pace this time.” 

Tommy stares at him for a beat, quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Am I sure that I love you?” Evan counters. “That I’m pretty positive on.” 

The response forces a small smile onto Tommy’s face. After a breath, he gives a small nod. 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah?” Evan asks him. 

Tommy gulps and nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Because I love you, too.” 

Evan grins at him, at this time, it’s Tommy who reaches across the table and grabs his hand, squeezing it. 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Maybanks sister

part 4, chapter 1- let’s do this shit!

summary: after el dorado, your lives are finally getting back to normal. However, someone’s still missing from your life. After a long week, a run in with that someone is the last thing you needed.

a/n: ahhh! Finally some rafe and reader moments lol. they’re a bit in a pining but not talking stage right now. They’re gonna get to talk soon, don’t worry.

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“-98.5%… gold.”

“And that translates to?”

“This is money. A whole lot of money.”

With a smile on his face and everyone else cheering, John B leaned over the table to shake the man’s hand.

You guys went straight to the gas station, with the nearest atm machine being inside.

“Moment of truth.” John B murmured, all of you crowding around the atm.

“Pin is 0-0-0-0… enter.” John B said, entering his pin into the machine.

“You’re kidding.” Sarah had to suppress a laugh.

“Tell me that’s a temporary pin.” You snorted, John B turning to look at you now.

“I thought nobody could guess-“

“You need to change that immediately, dude.” You told him with a loud laugh.

“I’m sorry-“ he turned his head back to the machine when it started to make noise, signaling it was ready.

“Here it comes.”

As soon as the paper came out, JJ reached for it before him and John B fought over it. “That’s me, that’s me,” he said, “let me read it!”

“It’s not even the money, it’s just the receipt!”

You rolled your eyes at the boys, John B winning in the end, opening and pulling it open.

“Okay, okay,” John B said, reading it. “Our joint account balance…”

“Mhm..”

He took a pause, before Cleo told him to get on with it, everyone impatient.

“Our joint account balance is… one point one million… seventy two thousand, five hundred and forty nine dollars.”

“You said mil?”

“Million?” You and pope asked at the same time.

“Um…” John B said, everyone processing just how much money that was.

“That’ll do it!”

He nodded in agreement, everyone cheering and celebrating, being unable to even comprehend just how much that was.

“Holy shit…” you spoke, you laughing to yourself, Sarah laughing with you.

“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen on a piece of paper.” Pope said, you smiling and talking to Cleo.

JJ went over to the cooler, taking a beer out and downing it. Kiara glanced over at him, noticing his distance from everyone.

She walked over to him, “You can smile, you know.” She told him, leaning against the cooler.

He sighed, staring at her.

“Look, this doesn’t mean we’re kooks. Just means we have a little money now.”

“Okay, okay, wait, wait, wait, wait… hear me out. Really truck with yellow LEDS to replace the Twinkie for now.”

“That is by far one of the dumbest ideas I’ve heard from you.” You told your brother, rolling your eyes at him.

“I’m not getting rid of the Twinkie.” John B shook his head.

“But with solar panels… maybe. If it’s in the budget.” Kiara suggested, tilting her head to the side.

“And a bigger boat.”

“Guys, hold on. Hold on. It’s… it’s not like we can all go off and buy houses or anything. I mean split between all of us, that’s about 167,507 dollars. Minus what we owe barracuda Mike.”

“Let him try and come take this. I’ll mess him up.”

“I’ll mess him up for my damn leg.” You agreed.

“I’m just gonna say it. I don’t wanna piss off the drug dealer.”

“Listen, if we divide this up, we’re all gonna blow it.” Pope said, everyone turning their heads to Jj the moment he said that.

“Wow, okay. Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“It’s kind of obvious.” You retorted.

“-But maybe if we pool our money together, we can create something with actual economies of scale.”

“Like what?” Kiara asked him.

“You remember the island.”

“Duh.”

“Of course.” Kiara shrugged.

“I mean, it was our own island, and we built everything from basically nothing, right?”

“It was perfect.” Kiara said.

“The best life.” Cleo nodded.

“That whole island just to ourselves. All of us together.”

“It was nice..” you nodded in agreement with them all.

“I think we can have that again. Right here. I mean, Y/n’s and JJ’s property is going up for auction, right? So let’s buy it back. I mean, look around. A lot of land. Deep water access…” he motioned to the water behind him. “unless any of you are planning on going back to school, we’re gonna need a place to work, a place to stay and live. I think we can have both of those things here.”

“Well, it’s a nice idea, but I mean, we’d have to get the land first.” You told pope, he nodded.

“Then we could build like, a.. surf shop. And then maybe we can make our own dock.”

“This place does need a dock.” You nodded, smiling at the image.

“Ooh, what about like a bait and tackle shop?” John B suggested.

“Yeah,”

“Exactly. And… and who knows these waters better than us?”

“Nobody.” You replied.

“JJ, y/n, you guys can get a new boat and run a fishing charter. We can all live and sleep in the house-“

“Just a small warning, if this works, I am not picking up after you little shits.” You told them all, specifically staring right at Jj.

“Hey! Why are you looking at me? I’m not the one who-“

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around him and ruffling his hair like you would do when you were kids.

“Because we all know how messy you are.”

“I’m not messy-“

“You most definitely are, yeah.” Sarah retorted, him huffing and shoving you off of him while the rest of you laughed.

Before the auction, you went up to Jj, pulling him to the side.

“What?” He asked you, glancing at his friends in front of you all.

“Hey, I know how you’re feeling about the house and shit, but please, don’t do some stupid shit?”

“Don’t worry, sis. We’ll get the house back easy.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, jay.”

“I’m not gonna… do some stupid shit, alright? Trust me. I got this.” He held his hand up.

You sighed, he did not have this.

“Here’s the plan. We go up in one-dollar increments, all right? It’s gonna take a while, but we’re gonna need to save every cent we have for construction.”

“Popes on point, JJ. Got it?”

JJ let a hum, although he hesitated.

“Don’t change the plan.” Pope stared at the pair of you and your brother, you looking offended.

“Hey, don’t look at me, look at this idiot.” You poked your finger into JJs head, him rolling his eyes at you.

Everyone turned to the auctioneer, him pointing to the picture of your dad’s property.

Honestly, you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if you didn’t get the house. You grew up in that house, and while you may have a lot of bad memories in those walls, you loved it the same. It was like you could still hear the laughter of you and JJ as kids echoing off the walls.

It was a part of you at this point.

And you knew Jj felt the same way, you could tell it in his eyes.

“-The foreclosure sale of 14 Roger’s point road. Now, this is the old Maybank place.”

“You know, uh, the cuts gonna be figure 8 in a few years. You walk away now, you won’t have to scurry off with your tail between your legs… and I’ll, uh, give you a little taste on the back end.” he spoke to you lowly, you staring at the man in disbelief.

“You’re gonna be dead before that happens.” You told the man, annoyed at what he had just said.

He stared at you with raised eyebrows through his glasses.

“Hey, Dale, was it?” JJ pushed you to the side, standing in front of the man now.

“That’s correct.”

“It’s not happening, hoss.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s play ball.”

You stared at Pope, already knowing what would go down.

“150 bid, bidder with 200, I’ve got 200…”

…

“I’ve got 775,000 bid,”

“This is way over our price range.” Pope told John B.

“Will you make him stop, please?” Sarah asked him:

“Get him out of here.”

John B went over to JJ, who you’ve already attempted to stop multiple times.

“Hey, please, it’s too much.”

“Just let me handle this. I’ve got it.. dude, I’ve got it!” He fought John b off of him, “775,010, right here, sir.” Jj shouted.

“775,010 to the gentleman in red.”

“Oh my god!” Pope groaned.

You sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance. Your brother was dumb to be paying that much, but you knew, deep down, you knew why he did. No one else would understand, but you would.

“That’s too rich for my blood, Rog.” Zeasy spoke, John B and Jj staring at each other.

“775,010 bidder, looking for 8…”

The auctioneer continued on, “going once, going twice, sold right here to the gentleman in red. Congratulations.”

Everyone in the group groaned, Jj turning back to Zeasy, holding his hand out.

“The most expensive property in the cut, and it’s not worth it.” He chuckled.

“Well, it is to us, sir. Now, if you can scurry off to your side of the island, and stay there, that’d be appreciated.” He waved his hand, wrapping his arms around John B.

“I get shit done. We got it. That’s all that matters. Whoo! All right.”

“What an idiot.” You murmured to yourself.

“33% above market value. Wildly overpaid. Thats like all the money.” Pope told John b, before walking past him.

You stared at JJ, him looking back at you.

“What?” He asked, you shaking your head at him.

“Well, would you like to do the honors or should I?” You asked your brother, both of you standing in front of the caution taped door.

He shrugged, his hands going to the ends and beginning to rip it off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I christen thee Poguelandia 2.0.” He spoke, holding the ripped up caution tape in both hands before throwing it.

You stared at him, ripping off the remaining tape.

“Let’s turn this piece of shit into our home.” You told him with a small smile.

“Let’s do it.”

He smiled back, both of you doing your usual handshake, before he opened the door and saluted to the rest of the group.

“We’re home, y’all.”

Construction on the house was the hard part of it all, everything you guys had bought and used had been as cheap as possible, even using old wood from your dad’s old shed.

And finally, after months of construction, you all felt like you had finally perfected it. JJ had his own charter, everything had been feeling normal. Better than normal.

JJ put the sign down at the dock, a proud smile on his face as he stared at everything you all had accomplished.

“Think we’re about done.” You told John B, both of you nodding and smiling, doing a handshake of your own.

“Hey, guys!” JJ called from down the dock, his hat in his hands. “I think we did it.”

“Hell yeah we did!” You shouted back.

“We’re in business baby! Wow!” He shouted, you and John B laughing at his antics. “Oh my gosh, this feels good!” He pumped his fist in the air, and this was the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him.

Everyone watched with a smile on their faces, watching him cheer on and celebrate.

“That boys mad.” Cleo laughed, you nodding in agreement.

He got on the boat, “Captain Maybank at your service! Now that has a ring to it! Nothing can stop a pogue. Nothing!”

All of you laughed, watching him jump off and onto the dock.

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout!”

“Yeah!” John B shouted.

“Is he okay?” Sarah laughed, Kiara watching him with a smile on her face.

“Yeah. Yeah. He just never really had a home. He’s happy.”

You listened to the girls conversation, finding yourself smiling at it.

He began to dance, talking wildly to himself.

“Slow down, you’re killing ‘em!”

“Twinkle toes, all right!”

Kiara laughed, walking down to the dock, “having fun?” She asked him.

“A little bit.”

“Yeah?”

“What?” He asked, her staring at him with a wide smile on her face.

“I love you.”

He got closer to her, both of their lips crashing into each others.

You whistled at them, John B howling while Sarah laughed.

“We did it.” JJ pressed his forehead against hers, her arms wrapped around his body.

“We did. Somehow.”

“But we did it. We did it!”

That day was one that you swore you’d never forget, seeing him happy like that, that was all you wanted in your life.

Yet, intertwined with the moments of joy, there was a bittersweet ache in your heart. Thoughts of him, of Rafe, drifted through your mind.

It’s been almost two years, and you were still in love with him.

You couldn't shake the memories, the way his laughter would echo in your ears, the warmth of his presence that seemed to haunt your every thought.

A sense of longing wrapped around you, refusing to let go, painting your happiness with unfulfilled desire.

It was as if you could still imagine him looking at you, a small but soft smile on his face.

You knew he wouldn’t want to talk to you, he probably wouldn’t want to even see you.

He probably hated you now, you thought. After you told him about his dad, maybe he didn’t want to see you at all.

Unfortunately, a large thunderstorm the night before had knocked out the power, causing the live bait to pass away, everything ruined.

“What’s the damage, pope?” JJ asked him, pope sighing.

“Fuse box is busted. Without the live bait, the fishermen won’t come, and there goes half of our business right there. We have enough profit to cover it, but barely, just barely. All right?”

Pope walked over to a jar, pulling it down from the cabinet it was in. “This is it.” He pulled out a smaller jar of gold. “The last of our AU.”

“Uh, what?”

“What?”

“English, please.” You snickered.

“Gold. It’s the periodic symbol for gold.” He told you all, as if it was obvious.

“Why not just say gold?” You asked him

“Because it doesn’t matter, all right? This is all of our savings, and it’s a no-go. This is for property taxes. So,” he set the jar of gold on the table, “we’re gonna have to tighten up…”

“Which means no more 600 dollars in gas chasing tarpon up the gulf.”

“Pope, that’s our job-“ JJ started.

“Yeah!” you agreed.

“We were chasing a bait board-“

“No more 200 dollars in heirloom tomato seeds.” Pope continued, pointing at Kiara.

Everyone began to talk over each other, arguing over it.

“What about my imported peppers?”

“Peppers gotta go too, baby.”

“We need to run the charters!

“It’s not the tomato’s fault!”

“No, hey, guys! If the business starts failing, the sharks start circling. All right?” Everyone stopped arguing.

“And we don’t even know if your dad is coming back.”

“He’s got balls if he shows his damn face around here.” You glared at Pope.

“And it’s not even his anymore.” JJ chimed in, hitting his hand against the table he was leaning on.

“It doesn’t matter. What’s he gonna think when he sees all this?”

“He’s not gonna see it.” You spat, Pope sighed, ignoring your comment before continuing.

“Listen, if we want to save this place, we skinny up until the business gets afloat again. Okay?” Pope said, leaving the shack.

JJ glanced at the gold that Pope had left on the table, an idea popping up in his mind.

The enduro. A dumbass bike race where people place their bets on, mostly kook kids who have nothing better to do with it. It was also where your brother went to try his luck each year.

“What a fantastic day we got for racing today. You guys ready to burn some gas?”

People cheered, raising their cups and watching as everyone started practicing, their bikes throwing sand on the viewers.

“The race is kicking off soon, so make sure you get your bets in. And then wave your flag, you know what I’m saying?”

JJ stood there, gas being pumped into his bike. He glanced over to the bike next to him, where Topper sat with a smug face, nodding at JJ. Jj shook his head, turning away from the boy.

John B walked over to JJ, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go baby! How we feeling today, champ?”

“Like I got this whole shot.”

“Yeah? Yeah?”

“I’m gonna win it this year. I know I am.”

“Yeah, you are.”

JJ turned to look at Cleo, “Cleo, how we doing, girl?”

“Everything’s all good, man.”

“Great.”

“The girl, out.”

“All right.” He raised his hand up, both of their hands meeting as they did a handshake.

“Hey! Bring it home, little boy.” She smiled at him.

“You know I will.”

John B smiled at him, grabbing his face. “You got this. All right?”

“I know.”

“Yeah, good luck.” John B said, beginning to walk away before JJ called his name.

“Hey, hold on one sec. Hold on.”

John B turned around, Jj walking up to him again.

“Where’d you park your bike?”

“Right there. Why?” He pointed, jj staring at him, hesitating.

“Gotta tell you something before we start.”

“Oh boy, JJ, what’s going on?”

“No, it’s really not that bad.” JJ replied, although John B did not believe him.

“Go on, then. Tell me, what’s up?”

“Like, literally you’re gonna be thanking me after. Okay? So… you know, I… I bet on me. To win.”

John B turned his head, pursing his lips together.

“I know, I know, funds are tight right now, but I feel good this year. So, I put in a bet on myself. Dude, the odds are like, seven to one!” He smiled, “with me on this thing, that’s like three to one.”

“Hold on, okay.”

“It’s free money.”

“Where did you get some extra money?”

“That’s what I’ve got to tell you. Um…” jj cleared his throat, “so, I went into the kitty and bet the last nug…. Now, before you say anything, I just gotta tell you-“

John B scoffed, backing away from JJ.

“Dude, listen, I got this, man.”

John B held his finger out, “JJ, JJ, just stop.” He walked over to JJ again, looking at him in disbelief. “Jj, are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious.”

“That was our last 20 grand. That was supposed to go to property taxes for poguelandia.”

“Bro, I know! Okay? I know. I know you’re about to hit me now. I can sense it.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Save it. Gotta commit at this point. I got it. You know I do. But it wouldn’t hurt to have a little backup on this one. You know what I’m saying?”

“You want me to ride?”

“Just cover me. All right? Just like old times in the backyard. You and me? We school these fools, and we save the farm. You know we can do this. Easy.”

Your heart dropped when your eyes spotted the familiar bike, along with those damn blue eyes. His eyes met yours for a moment, and it felt as if time stopped, as if everyone else was gone in that moment.

“Oh my fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, Pope raising an eyebrow at you, following your gaze.

Rafe stood there, a faint frown creasing his brow when he caught sight of you. A tight knot formed in his throat. He longed to close the distance between you two, to feel the warmth of your embrace or press his lips against yours again—anything to bridge th silence that had stretched between them.

It had been a year and a half since everything, yet his heart remained tethered to you. The weight of his lingering affection tormented him, and hehted how helpless he was.

He could see the tears begin to well up in your eyes, even from afar.

Topper was the one to snap him out of his daze, and Pope was the one to snap him out of yours.

Topper hit his shoulder, Rafe finally taking a breath when his eyes left yours.

“Dude, I told you, forget about her.”

“What? I wasn’t looking at her, dude.” Rafe lied, looking over at you, only to find you looking away again.

“Was he not here last year?” Pope asked you, you finally taking your eyes off of him.

“Yeah, he- he was, but I mean-it doesn’t matter, I gotta go. I can’t be here for this shit.” You held your hands up, your heart beat picking up and your palms beginning to get clammy.

“Just ignore him.“ Pope shrugged, you sighing, holding the back of your hands to your eyes, pressing on them.

You then realized, that he used to do the same thing. You put your hands down, glancing at Pope before speaking and turning around

“I’ll- I’ll be back.” You murmured, stumbling away from the crowd, leaning against a shed, taking deep breaths while trying to think about anything else.

“Shit, I need a drink.” You told yourself, taking one last deep breath before standing up and walking over to the nearest cooler, stealing a drink and downing the entire can in one go, before grabbing another.

You sighed when you walked up to Pope and Cleo, your eyes avoiding Rafe and instead looking at your brother and John B.

“Let’s do this shit, Jay!”

Taglist

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah @calmoistorm @ethanthequeefqueen @theoraekenslover @just-levyy @hallecarey1

[derealizationns]

"am i your wallpaper...?"

characters - ryomen sukuna x gn reader

synopsis - sukuna starts feeling unknown, scary emotions when he sees your lock screen wallpaper.

genre - fluff

warnings - sukuna might be a bit ooc, bc its so hard for me to write him...😭

from prompt special request (prompt #10) <3

"get off me, you insolent human." sukuna grumbled the moment that you threw yourself on his lap, whining about your exhausting day.

despite his harsh words, you still stayed in your place on the couch. you knew that man very well, and it wasn’t difficult to notice his smirk (though he tried really hard to hide it). that’s how you ended up with your head on his thighs, playing with the material of his shirt. in the meantime, sukuna was showing the not-so-obvious side of him—he was gently brushing his hand through your hair. even though he shows himself as an intimidating and fearful man, your lover has a soft spot for you. some people that are close with you could even say that you have him “wrapped around your finger," and that wouldn’t be a lie. right now, you’re just relaxing while the pink-haired man scrolls through his phone. he suddenly looks up at you when you start shifting and lift yourself from him.

“where are you going? i did not permit you to leave my side.” he complained, confused by your actions.

you rolled your eyes at his clinginess.

“i’m going to the bathroom; stop acting like you’ll die if i leave your sight, kuna,”you sigh with a smile. he was so cute.

you get up from the sofa and start heading towards the restroom. the moment you were away, sukuna’s smile widened. It was a brief while when he could show that he’s truly pleased by your closeness. suddenly, the king of curses hears something vibrating on the couch. he looks around in search for the source of the noise. that’s when he notices your phone lighting up. he squints his eyes, looking towards the device.

“no, that cannot be right.” your partner mumbles to himself, seeing the picture on your lock screen.

it looked like the one that you took after your last date, when you both were lying in bed. he can swear he’s seeing things, because why would you have this picture there? what was the purpose? sukuna’s chest is full of weird feelings; he’s shure he never felt before. why is he happy? Is that... the thing humans call “excitement”? ... no, that’s wrong. after all, he is the most powerful of all curses; he does not feel those trivial things, right? all of a sudden, he’s thrown out of his thoughts by quiet steps from the bathroom. your lover immediantly switches his attention from your phone to you. as soon as you see sukuna, you can tell that something is bothering him. you already know that he won’t tell you whats wrong, so you decide to bring it up yourself.

“hey, what’s got you so annoyed? you look like you just ate a lemon.” you try to start carefully and a bit playfully, but sukuna does not buy it.

“you, human. what were you thinking when you did that, huh?! i demand an answer.” pink-haired man ordered.

now you were seriously confused. you got him annoyed? but weren’t you just explaining to him that it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom, not a whole ass journey across the world? now you’re getting mad.

“the hell you’re talking about idiot?" you bark at him.

sukuna’s mouth opens but closes a second later.

“come on, spit it out already; you got something to say, then go on.” you force him to explain himself. your partner takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, like he’s bracing himself for an impact.

“am i your wallpaper...?” he almost whispers.

when you hear him, you almost choke on your saliva. what?! he acts all annoyed and everything because you have him on your lock screen?

“wha-...kuna, is that why you looked so dissatisfied earlier? i mean, i can change it if you want,  but...”

“did I say I want you to change it?” he asks loudly.

now he looks at you like you offended him. this man is truly a confusing one.

“no, but...” you try to continue, but he doesn’t let you.

“so be quiet. can’t listen to your rambling” sukuna cuts you off. you can’t help but start giggling. your man’s face is all red from embarrassment. he—ryomen sukuna, the king of curses—is blushing because his partner has him on their wallpaper. you jump back at the couch beside him, taking his face in your hands and squeezing his cheeks. his eyes widen at your action.

“you...how dare you... insolent human, you have the audacity...” he stutters, and you laugh more at him.

“you’re so cute, kuna… so incredibly adorable.” you teased and placed a soft kiss on his lips. when you pulled away, the curse man still had pink cheeks, but additionally a smile on his face.

“i like that picture.” he whispers. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

hi, hello, it’s me again! this is my first work from that prompt special request 🤍 i tried really hard to write sukuna as much in-character as i can, but it’s reallt hard for me to do it correctly 🥹 feel free to leave reviews! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

and thank you for reading this ~

[romana-after-dark]

Little Tease

Dark!Logan x Fem!reader

Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Logan is trying to train you, but you keep teasing him. It's not his fault, really.

Warnings: Dub con but reader is secrtly into it. logan in a position of authority but to be clear, this is NOT student reader, or teenager reader at the school. This is a short fic so we're not getting into a backtory but that is NOT what this is.

Based on this ask.

More apoligetic non con? Read this series!

Divider by @coolcatsgraphics

1000 follower fundraiser game!

You were doing this on purpose.

Itty bitty shorts. Tight sports bra. Just you and him on the sparing matt and fuck, you looked delicious as sweaty and heaving.

Logan was the gym teacher, but that's not why he was here with you. He didn't spar with students, especially not while shirtless. Students had appropriate gym uniforms. Student's didn't dress like whores tempting him to pounce.

But you were. You wanted him. He saw it in the way you smirked at him when he looked at your tits. He felt it in the way you wiggled your butt when he took you down. He smelled it. Ohhhh he smelled it. The wetness between your legs whenever you and him tousled.

The premise of the rendezvous began innocently enough. You were a mutant, but not one with any powers that could protect you. You weren't like Jean, Remy, Hank, or him.... instead, you were empathic, able to make people feel what you felt and vice versa. This was something that put a target on your back, but you had no ability to protect yourself.

So, you asked Logan to help you, to train you in at least basic self defense so that those who would hurt you for being a mutant wouldn't have an easy time, and you didn't have to simply depend on the protection of others.

and it was torcher. How was he expected tp go about him day after feel your skin, your body under him, your sweet smell... he left rock hard every day.

Until today, when he flipped you around and swept your leg, he landed on top of you. he didn't get up.

"Alright Logan." you chuckle and grunt, attempting to get up but his 300 pounds kept your sweaty face pressed to the mat. "You made you point."

"This is why you gotta watch your legs, pumpkin. I been tell'n you, you're not steady."

"I knoooooow" You can't help but groan. "But can you get your fat ass up? Crushing me here."

Logan's face nuzzled your neck, the hair of his sideburns tickling you. "that's not fat, and you fucking know it. That's the skeleton, you know what that means?"

you huff your answer. "That you're gonna suffocate me under here?"

"It means I can protect you, pumpkin." Logan feels your whole body still underneath him. "Don't need to worry 'bout a thing, not with me around..." He trails his fingers down your sides, feeling the lightweight workout material separating you from him.

Once again, you try to push him off, but all the push ups he makes you do are no match for his heavy weight. "Logan. I think you got the wrong idea-" But he cuts you off with a deep kiss t those sweet lips of yours, sucking n your tongue and biting on your lips even as you squirm under him. Your movements only served to stimulate his cock in the loose grey gym shorts.

When he pulls away, a string of spit connects him to you for another moment still. "No wrong idea, baby." Logan draws up his claws just a little, juuust enough that when he slides his knuckles over the crack of your ass, your pathetic, half-see through leggings shred underneath him.

"Logan! Stop!" Your voice cracks as you slap at the blue matt. "Get the fuck off me! I'm tellin Scott!"

"I'm TeLlInG ScOtT!" Logan mocks you, freeing his acing cock and sliding the uncut tip over you wet little slit. He knew you'd be wet, he could mell it on you, but this was something else. "No, you're not pumpkin. Know why? Because the second Jean looks into your m- oooh fuck- when she looks into that pretty little head of yours, she's gonna feel it. Right here." He slides a hand between you and the sticky matt, feeling your stomach right where his tip pokes you. "She's gonna feel how you felt right here, the warmth in your tummy when you watch me warm up, the way it flips when i touch you and, and the way it's clenching right now, ready to come on my cock after only a few strokes.

You whimper, know logically, realistically, Scott wouldn't question you like that, that jean wouldn't tell him any arousal you felt, that the fact you were telling him to stop would be enough for Scott...But a part of you pictured him doubting you, laughing at you even. you couldn't take it.

Instead, you try to appeal to Loga's decency. Even as your stomach swirled and tightened. "Logan, I was just teasing, I didn't mean-"

"But you did, pumpkin." Logan railed into you, one hand pressed between shoulder blades you keep you down, the other squeezing and pulling and touching your body. "You wanted it, you wanted me and you were just to scared to ask. Don't worry," He huffs, hot breath against your ear. "I got you."

He fucked into your core with a fervor you've never felt, a desire for you that was palpable in the air. He was hot, and you did want him... but not like this. "Logan..." You stop moving, stop squirming, stop fighting and lay down. When he sucks kiss to your neck, you can't help it anymore and cum on his cock stretching you open.

"Good girl..." Logan groans, your tightness pushing him over the edge. He bred your sweet pussy full of his cum, pumping you so full that as he continued to pound into you, the white slick platters out from around his member.

When it was over, he continued to lay on top of you, holding you close to him with hi nose familiarizing himself with the scent of your hair. Delicious.

"Logan..." You whimper underneath him. "Just let me go... I'm not gonna tell Scott, or- or anyone. Just please get off me."

"I'm sorry, pumpkin..." He licked a stripe up the side of your face. "not even Scott could keep me away from you now. You're mind." Logan sits up, resting back on his haunches and undoes his jacket. With surprisingly gentle hands, Logan pulls you up and wraps the sweatshirt around your waist to cover the hole he riped in your leggings and underwear. "I'm not gonna stop doing this."

****************************

thanks guys!!!! I've been cracking down on school so not as much time to write :(((

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @madamerubrum @journal3sposts @tomhockstetter7-111 @and-claudia @yeaiamme2 @xoxabs88xox @hornystan @mortuary-reads @hereforthehitsbaby y @alexisdotnett @kemi707 @spookysquids @zaggprincess2 @freythecrazyfae @esperanza229 @chocolatequeenbasement

[renhanaschewtoy]

Coworkers

FINALLY. I'm so sorry it took so long. All the chaos and junk really got the better of me. I hope y'all like this, I really tried. I can't wait to write more. Strade's Favorite Bartender will be next! 💚 NSFW MDNI

You’d always had a certain fondness for Lawrence you supposed. He was always the quiet guy at work, hesitant to ever really speak or have attention be directed his way. 

And it wasn’t like you’d bulldozed into his life either. 

It had started small, really. He was stronger than he looked and often you both shared shifts. You’d asked him a few times if he could help you move some things, speed up the task and he’d always given a little nod and followed you to do so. 

You wanted to bridge that gap, you bought some tea you kept in your locker, offering it to Lawrence on breaks. At first he just stared at you for a long moment before slowly giving a nod of his head, crystalline eyes directed anywhere but you. And then grabbing the sandwiches or other items from the corner Mart you saw him buy from time to time. You simply wanted Lawrence to feel appreciated in the warehouse. That you were grateful he helped you.

And it turned into routine after a little while.

Sharing breaks, eating together in the silence that was the wee hours of morning before the sun broke. Settled in the stale smelling break room or outside on the bench in the parking lot, side by side. You usually did most of the talking but from time to time, it was exciting to hear Lawrence talk. When he'd mention his plants, the most recent time he went on a trek through the park or on a hike, better was when he’d actually give you his opinion. Even if it was differing. If it weren’t for the occasional stutter or stammer, you’d reckon to say he’d have a rich voice. Dulcet to you, if you dare say so.

You gave him your number, just in case you switched shifts at work or something came up of course! Though that didn’t stop you from sending the occasional message asking how he was doing, or if you shared a shift a “have a good night! Oops, I mean morning!” sort of text. You wanted to endear yourself to Lawrence.

And you had.

You wormed your way under his skin and into his heart like vines of twisting ivy, you made it hard for Lawrence to breathe around you sometimes. The saccharine scent about you that was so alien, so absolutely opposite of damp rot and soil he’d become accustomed to. You were the fragrant bulbs of flowers he tried to nurture and fight the impulse to cut. You were soft, you were succulent in a way Lawrence didn’t understand like the occasional ones he had spotted around his apartment. Visions of you swam in his head at night in his bed, in the fog of his shower. Emboldened by the haze of burnt hash of a blunt that was discarded on the ashtray nearby. Lawrence wondered how you would feel…from the inside. How different you would feel from his hand. Water or lotion made do in a pinch when he’d fist himself to completion, more often than not he would grow frustrated after the clarity hit him.

“huff…huff…nngh…f-fuck…(Name)...” Water cascades down Lawrence’s pale body, head bowed with one hand braced against the cool tile wile the other hand stroked his weeping cock. You brushed up against him on more than one occasion today, he felt the soft warmth of your skin through your clothes, caught a peek of skin when you’d reach up high, Lawrence swore…goddamn it, he could hear the blood in your veins. Your hand brushed against his when you handed him a paper cup of some herbal tea you’d been so proud to prattle about hoping he’d like it. And he’d die before telling you that it was actually too sweet for his taste. But maybe that was you and your influence on the moment. Too sweet. His breathing grew ragged as his glacier eyes screwed shut, trying a slight twist of his wrist as Lawrence fisted his cock; reliving the encounters behind his eyelids.

The warm flush of your cheeks, he wondered how much blood could reach the apples of them…the plush look of your lips that always curled into a little grin, what might they look like swollen from his own pressed to them or his teeth sinking into them? Would your heart hammer in your chest? Or would it be slow and calm? Would you let him touch you? Actually touch you? To crawl inside of you and feel your warmth from the inside, to break your ribs and truly be in your embrace until you were cold and still like he often felt. A grunt passed Lawrence’s lips as he grappled with the thoughts– did he want that? No…no, he didn’t think he did. Lawrence wanted to savor you if he was ever presented the opportunity. You’d feel different. You were different. His mind rewound and pulled forward like a video on a loop, searching for just the thing to focus on. That breathless face you made after exerting yourself, the way your breathing drew a little rough and you tried to chuckle through, the way your (color) eyes would look up at him so gratefully in a way only you ever looked at him.

“Hhngh…haah…(N-Name)...” Lawrence choked your name from his throat as a shudder ripped down his spine, hips jerking erratically in a rhythm that grew sloppy before pearly, viscous cum splurted forward, coating his hand and dropping into the water to disappear down the drain. The smell of stale, foggy air and eucalyptus as the evidence of his mild perversion disappeared from sight. Maybe that’s why it was always easier in the shower. His panting eventually subsided into just one heavy sigh, the heaviness left him and again the frustration followed.

It wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t you.

Maybe Lawrence was getting greedy. Not that he could ever act on it. It always made him seize up worse when you were just looking at him with those eyes of yours. So patient for whatever he may say or do. It was maddening that he let it get this far. That you somehow had sunk so deeply into him instead that keeping you was now a regular rotation in his fantasy. That fire fed and fanned by content he consumed on the internet. But there was always just a slight pause on maybe trying such on you. Maybe. Exhaling through his nose, Lawrence turns off the water and steps out of the shower. His brow is deep set in thought as he lazily towels off his pallid skin and blonde hair that falls over his shoulders limply still damp.

Dressing for bed, Lawrence dares to glance at his phone- he never gets notifications. Not really. Just from you. And today must be one of those nights that the stars just align, one message from you.

(Name): “Hey!! I have some news tomorrow!”

Lawrence’s brows furrow and lips press in a thin line, he’s not sure how to reply. If he should. But he wants to.

Lawrence: Okay.

Like most or any social interaction- not his best work. Not that you cared. It never stopped you at all or caught you off. Most might find him brusque and socially awkward, which wasn’t untrue. Lawrence doesn’t linger on the thoughts of what it could possibly be, it could be anything with you; infinitely more optimistic than himself. You found the silver linings in most things, took joy in the small victories or whathaveyou. Something he would possibly find overwhelming or even annoying but you seemed to broach him a way just so that it never…felt that way. Lawrence didn’t want to keep you at an arms length like he had the first handful of shifts where he’d nearly tried to avoid you. And now he craved you. You were sunlight, warm and necessary. You were nourishment Lawrence didn’t believe he needed. He was starved in ways that didn’t make sense.

Tugging on old, worn sweatpants, Lawrence crawls into his bed and tries to settle in and stares at the ceiling for a while before his breathing lulls into sleep. 

The next day, the next shift. Stars litter the sky and the moon hangs along them. The streets are mostly dead, the silent stillness of the parking lot of the warehouse is usually comforting but there’s an odd looming sense regarding your news and Lawrence doesn’t know why. Why his stomach turns and twists so strangely when he sees you eagerly wave him over as he pushes the heavy door open after a swipe from his employee badge.

“Hey, Law!” you greet, warmly as ever- you were probably the only one who forced themself to adapt to the lifestyle of working this shift and still function. Or function better than most of the other workers here. Granted it made sense to Lawrence, it was what he preferred though it never showed.

Lawrence gives a low hum of acknowledgement you had grown accustomed to as you met him halfway to walk to the lockers together. “You…mentioned you had news…?” After spinning the dial on his lock, those piercing baby blues turned to you, seeming to perk up at his voice addressing you.

You bite your lip in that way that makes him wish he could be one of your teeth. To feel the plush skin under pressure. Lawrence blinks before turning his focus back to your eyes. “Yeah! Yeah, I finally got a grown up job, heh…” You run a hand through your (length) (color) (type) hair, your grin faltering to something almost akin to nervousness or anxiety. Because all Lawrence can do is stare at you with a blank, unreadable expression. The silence hangs over heavy as you scuff your shoe on the floor.

“... you're quitting…?” It feels like he's choking it out but if he did, you didn't seem to notice. And he's grateful for it.

“Well, yeah, I mean…I gave my two weeks. It's just…I can't work here forever. It doesn't pay enough and I'm not exactly cut out for it long term.” You admit with a little bob of your head, glancing around the warehouse stacked with pallets and equipment. And it was true if Lawrence was being honest, you weren't as strong to continue this sort of labor for long without it doing something to your musculature or God forbid your beautiful bones. It was bad enough when you bruised.

“...oh.” There's an odd sort of thrum in his chest he can't discern, a tension that settles tight in too many places for his liking. Your sharp eyes seem to snap to him at the monosyllabic reply and soften. That look. Not of pity, just soft.

“But we can still text! Or meet up on off days! I'd like to check out that trail sometime, if you'd be down?” You're quick, so quick, to offer him the modicum of comfort. That you somehow, some way, want to be around him even when no longer coworkers. You were so odd. But it wasn't unwelcome. “But uh…I was gonna throw a little party. At my place with people from our shift. If you wanted to come.”

Lawrence raises a brow at that, it isn't a “no” (it would be for anyone else)but it's more of that confusion. He didn't do parties. He didn't do other people. Crowded spaces. Not without some sort of necessity or incentive tied to it. His pause seems to make you fidget. “I know it's not your thing, so don't feel you have to or anything. But it would really nice to have you there.” You uplilt your word with that hopeful tone.

He shifts on his feet, his eyes unable to hold your gaze. Honestly? He doesn't want to. He really doesn't want to. Lawrence shifts on his feet a little as if still chewing all of the information over. He didn't like any of it. Most of all your leaving. Your absence would be felt so deeply. Lawrence felt like had something, had someone, even on the humdrum shifts you shared. Be it normalcy, warmth, Lawrence didn't know. But he wasn't about to let it go. Let you go. He couldnt. You might be vines constricting around him, but Lawrence could be all the thistles, barbs, and thorns in the world of it kept you ensnared to him.

Sometimes the stars just aligned like that.

“But, like I said- I know it's not…”

“I'll come.”

You blink up at Lawrence, surprise stark on your face for just a moment at his definitive tone. It lingers before your lips curl into a toothy grin making his heart thud against his ribs. “Yeah? That's great. Really great.” You pull out your phone and tap on it few times before a buzzing comes from his pocket. “That's my address, it starts at seven but y'know…it's a party so show up whenever.” You shrug casually.

Lawrence glances to the side, racking his brain for a moment, thinking of what next, of what to do when he gets there- nevermind that it's days away. “Alright! Well, let's go kick this shift in the teeth!” You chime, clapping your hands together and wandering off to whatever task you were assigned and Lawrence slowly trailing after you.

×××

Relationships were complicated. People were complicated. Well…living people were complicated anyway. For the briefest moment Lawrence thinks back to his family, people that meant little to him in the grand scheme of things but whether he liked it or not was part of his building blocks. At least a little.Which brought a vague memory of a muffled voice from childhood, “We can’t go to a dinner party empty handed.” A few hours before Lawrence decided he would make his appearance, he stopped at the liquor store on the corner to bring a bottle of…fuck. What did you even like?? All you drank when you were together was whatever was at the vending machines, the convenience store, or tea. Lawrence stood near the door of the shop- bottles lined all over the shelves and walls. Advertisements of several brand plastered all over in bright colors or neons.

Augh.

Eventually Lawrence meanders over to the wine section, staring at the bottles blankly, drifting from label to label. White wine? Red wine? If you would even drink it. Dry? Semi? Sweet? It was alcohol for fuck’s sake, why did it have to be so complicated. With a shake of his head, frustration beginning to simmer in the pit of his stomach, Lawrence swipes a bottle of sweet red with a delicate looking label adorned in little gilded flowers. Maybe even if you didn’t like it, you would think it’s pretty. Or maybe you’d think he was weird, like most other people– no…no, that wasn’t true. It was you. None of his antisocial tendencies seemed to deter you or bother you, opposite; you’d been nothing but accommodating and patient with Lawrence.

Keeping his head down, Lawrence shoves a few bills at the unbothered clerk who bothers to spare him a second glance before he begins the trek to where your apartment is supposed to be. Gingerly stepping through the building, Lawrence lingers in the hallway probably a beat longer than necessary before rapping his knuckles against the door. His palms are sweaty as he cradles the bottle of wine and waits…and waits…he can hear the thrum of bass through the door, music playing paired with a few voices…by the sound of it, not to many people (thankfully) or so he hoped. Just as he debated leaving and tossing away any hopeful ideations, the door is abruptly pulled open to reveal you. In more casual clothes. A warm flush blooms beautifully over your cheeks that has his breath hitch ever so slightly.

“Law! Oh man, I was beginning to worry you weren’t gonna show up!” You lilt, posture so much more relaxed and…oh. Lawrence spies the red plastic cup in your hand, of course. It was a party. People drank. He brought a bottle that he’d almost forgotten about seeing you the way you were. The drunk blush on your cheeks looked ever so enticing. “C’mon, c’mon in!” You usher him in warmly and he can take in your apartment. Posters decorate the walls, well loved furniture, a small cozy kitchen…that same sweetened perfume that was so uniquely you seemed to seep into the very walls. Lawrence shuffles inside, keeping his eyes down, only sparing glances to the other coworkers mingling around your place. Some chatting, some playing video games you had set up on your television, others bobbing a little to the music.

Lawrence’s hands tighten around the bottle before looking up to you and awkwardly thrusting it towards you. “I…I didn’t know what to bring…If I should bring anything.” He admits, biting the inside of his cheek as you blink and accept it, looking it over.

“Huh? That’s real sweet of you, thanks Law! Wine, huh? Fancy. I’ve never really tried it.” You inspect it, but keep it carefully tucked in the crook of your arm, though before Lawrence can feel embarrassed about his actions you give a mischievous grin. “You’ll have to come over again and maybe try it with me, huh? Can’t drink alone.” You chime warmly before disappearing only briefly to tuck it safely in the kitchen so nobody thinks to open it. Something for just the two of you…it ignites a spark of hope that he allows himself to buoy on for comfort now that he’s vastly out of his element. You poke your head out of the kitchen, “You want something to drink? I can mix you something or uh…I’ve got water, soda, juice…” Lawrence takes the opportunity to follow you and the variety of beverages and snacks. 

Opting for water, Lawrence takes up post along one of your walls, simply watching you and everyone else. Time ticks on as his hands worry the label of the water bottle to shreds. The music feels too loud, he can feel the bass in his bones. Nobody but you really wants to talk to him, he’s spared a nod of acknowledgement or a brief greeting but nothing more- if anything people seem surprised to see him here at all. Lawrence swallows thickly and glances to the clock and moves to stand up and you seemingly appear out of nowhere. Your eyes seem to trace over his features, lingering on his face for a beat before you do that wonderful thing you do. Soften up. Relax. “Hey...I know this isn’t really your scene. It can probably be a lot huh? Here…my room is quieter, you can chill there for a bit maybe? Kinda decompress? I really…hah…I really don’t want you to go yet…if that’s okay?” The alcohol has you emboldened, your lips a little looser, your thoughts more apt to slip between them.

And a strange warmth is surging through his veins, he feels it in his own cheeks, feels his fingers twitch slightly before Lawrence finds himself nodding. Your hand slips in his smoothly, gently- and he’s tempted to flinch but instead he squeezes, carefully. True to your words, your room is notably quieter than the living room, the length of hallway giving a decent berth. You settle on your bed with a dramatic sigh and Lawrence almost shyly sits beside you, hands in his lap. “...I’m glad you came.” You admit as you fall onto your back on your duvet and tilt your head to look up at him. “Is it greedy I wanted to keep you a little longer? Just to myself?”

It’s not greedy.

You’re not greedy.

You’re perfect.

Lawrence swallows thickly, your words reverberating in his skull, echoing his same thoughts. You wanted what he wanted. He could only hope anyway but you said what he was thinking aloud. You made it real. You were real. “N-No..No I don’t think that about you.” Lawrence manages to mutter out and it makes that smile grow wider on your lips. Your hand reaches for his again, delicately, as your fingers trace his knuckles. 

“We could hangout more often, y’know. I meant it when I said I still wanted to see you even after I’m outta there.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Nobody’s ever wanted to hang out around him, much less. Well beside that one friend he made online who seemed down to maybe talk in person. But they weren’t you. Nobody compared to you. The silence hangs for a moment but in the soft lighting of your room, your eyes roam over his face again before you push yourself to sit up again, shuffling a little closer to him that Lawrence can feel the warmth of your body next to his. “...is it okay if I…” You dip your head slightly, lashes fluttering to make a point of looking down at his lips before meeting his gaze again. Just barely, Lawrence shakes his head before you give a breathy little chuckle and press your lips to his, a hand raising to cradle his jawline. The light stubble there is felt against the soft, smooth skin of your palm. Your lips are plush and sweetened by whatever alcohol you’d been drinking before, slightly sticky and sweet that Lawrence savors before clumsily kissing you back. Pushing back against you perhaps with an eagerness you hadn’t anticipated that draws a soft sound from your throat. Lawrence swallows down your groan, wanting more, feel you more, taste you more, feel all that livelihood that seems to emanate from you.

The kiss grows, heat building as your arms string around his neck and hands tangle in his blonde hair as it falls messily from its elastic. Lawrence leans, arms circling around your waist, a soft grunt muffled against your lips as he dares to deepen the kiss, tongue tracing your lower lip before being granted. Being able to explore inside of your mouth before pressing you down into the mattress. He can feel every breath you take, the expanding and compression of your chest, the way your heart thrums against your chest- Lawrence swears he can hear your heartbeat. Or maybe it’s his own pounding in his hears. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is more. More. 

And you seem of the same mind. Your hands drift down to his hoodie, moving to push it off his shoulders and Lawrence awkwardly shrugs out of it, loathe to part from your lips even to breathe. With you on your back, his hands take the opportunity to roam, albeit shakily. Taking in every curve, noting the muscle and fat on your body- soft under his larger hands and so very warm. Lawrence could get lost in you endlessly. He wanted to. Parting only for a moment, his breathing ragged, you seem to waste no time as you greedily take in air while yanking your shirt up and over your head and reaching for the buttons of his plaid shirt. It isn’t long between the two of you, clumsy hands- some from alcohol and others from lack of real heated experience, before clothes are strewn over your floor and you and Lawrence are a tangle of limbs on your bed. His body cages you in, body anchored to you as he savors each sensation, each beautiful sound he’s able to pull from your lips, feeling the way your body moves and the way it works against his own. Lawrence reminds himself to be affectionate, what he was taught affection is supposed to look like through media consumption anyway, though with you it’s easier. It’s so lovely to kiss along your neck, feel you gasp and shudder, to feel your pulse flutter under his lips. “...feels…fuck…so good…” he groans lowly against your skin.

Lawrence can almost picture the expression on your face as you give a chime of laughter and dare to roll your hips against his own, feeling his erection straining against the cotton of his boxers in a very obvious tent. “It can feel better…I can make you feel better…” You croon softly and that’s the snap that breaks him. Pulling away so abruptly you look up at him owlishly, he shoves his boxers down his pale thighs, impulse and need overriding most if not all thought in this moment. The desperation that burned through Lawrence to feel you from the inside.You lift your hips accordingly as he paws at your underwear before they slip down your legs and carelessly discarded with everything else. Bare before each other, there’s the briefest moment between the way the two of you have been interlocked, drinking the other one in. Before Lawrence’s hands grip the meat of your hips and tugs you closer with a strength you usually thought was reserved for the warehouse, not that you minded. The feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, you certainly wouldn’t mind a little bruising if not more come morning.

“Just…Just stay still…Just let me…” He pants, his eyes clouded and glazed over, transfixed as he mumbles almost to himself and you arch your back just so to give him a better angle as one hand releases you to line his aching cock up to your sweet entrance.First he notches the bulbous head in and groans, chest heaving with every breath as you bite your lip with a soft whine- spurning him on, urging him to just push. And so he does, inch by inch, Lawrence spears you on his length and his eyes threaten to roll back into his skull. You feel divine; tight, wet, impossibly warm around him as you clench like a vice that his his hips already stutter the first time within you. Sweat already begins to bead his forehead as Lawrence’s jaw clenches- as tempting as it is, he couldn’t bear the embarrassment if he came undone within you so quickly. 

You keen below him, hushed little murmur of, “Please…fuck, Law…need you, please.” While resting your hands on his shoulders with a little squeeze, you don’t mean to rush him, really you don’t- but you’d wanted this, thought about this, more times than you cared to count. And with a little liquid courage in your veins, you finally fucking had it. Had him.

And surely, he begins to rock his hips. The push and pull between you growing as Lawrence begins to rut within you, rhythm building and pressure mounting as you buck your hips in kind, pushing him deeper until his cockhead nudged against that delicious spot within you that made your lashes flutter and moans spill from your lips. Ordinarily, Lawrence wasn’t one for much noise- but the music muffled anything beyond your door and these sounds were for him and him alone. Shouldering your legs over his shoulders, Lawrence picks up his pace and his hips snap against you, heavy balls wetly slapping against your ass that has you squeak until you relax some in his grip. It leaves you helpless, putty as he fucks you into the mattress with reckless abandon now- your headboard knocking against the wall with each brutal thrust as he moans and grunts above you. While the sight of your is ever enticing, something Lawrence wants to burn into the folds of his brain, the need to feel close to you wins as he hunches over, nearly folding you in two. Hands bracing on the bed as he buries his face in the crux of your neck and shoulder as he kisses along the skin, breathing hotly into your ear as he continues to pump his cock into you. “...close…so…need to feel you…so warm…so fucking good…” Lawrence babbles to you, drunk on the euphoria as he feels pleasure coil hot in his stomach, on the brink.

So close.

So close.

So close.

“L-Law…’m not…a-ah, oh fuck…!” You gasp and choke on your words as you’re pinned below him, bliss drawn over your flushed features as your brain struggles to send words to your mouth, “...’m not gonna last...just like that, like that…!” You encourage as he surges with renewed vigor. Lawrence wants, no, needs to feel you come undone around. What you feel like when overcome with pleasure, what you look like, all of it. He grits his teeth before finding better use for his mouth, latching onto your throat to suckle a deep mottled mark into your skin that has you nearly scream into the room before he claps a hand over your lips to muffle it as he feels you contract around him. Convulsing, throbbing, spasming all around him in a way that Lawrence shuddering as his engorged cock finally empties itself within you, the excess forming a creamy ring around the base of his shaft and dripping down the plush swell of your ass onto the duvet. Ragged huffs fan over the hickey now left into your skin as Lawrence gives a few more languid, shallow strokes to enjoy the lingering feeling of you tightly wrapped around him as you try to catch your breath with a few low sounds of complacency. Sated, Lawrence almost begrudgingly lowers your legs carefully and his piercing eyes look up at you- trying to gage if you might be disappointed or upset, but instead is met with a bleary, satisfied smile and a breathy chuckle.

“...fuck, Law. I knew you had in you.” You mutter playfully before resting your arm over your sweaty forehead and Lawrence can feel his lips quirk ever so slightly. Something akin to pride settling in him slightly, but he remains knelt between your legs as a silence settles over the pair of you and you raise your arm to peek at him. Wordlessly, you pat shift and shuffle, peeling back the blankets and patting the spot next to you.

“But…your party…?”

“I’m pretty sure people heard and I’m pretty sure they didn’t. What’re they gonna do? Rob me? I don’t have shit.” You chuckle, though Lawrence seems to give pause and glance to the door. His reluctance seems to sober you some as you sit up slightly. “Uh…unless you wanted to go.” You try to keep your tone steady not to betray the tinge of hurt that creeps in all the same.

“No…! No, that’s not what I want…uhm…” Lawrence awkwardly scoots off your bed and grabs his boxers to tug on padding to your door and opening it a crack, peeking and listening for any other life in your apartment. The music had since stopped and it was still silence.With the knowledge your apartment is now empty, Lawrence locks your door for you before returning into bed and you just smile. The simplest thing, as if this was normal. Maybe it was, Lawrence sure as fuck didn’t know what that was, but this was nice. This was beautiful. You were beautiful.

Slowly, he moves to the other side of the bed and slides in beside you. Lawrence has not slept next to another person, honestly it was never something he thought he would like but it feels like it’s both what you want and what is expected. And frankly- it could be worse. “...Can I…?” He shuffles under the blankets, swathed in your detergent and perfume, his frame shifts over yours and his head presses to your chest where he can hear the steady beat of your heart. The intrusive thought rings in through his head that he could have it, have that piece of you forever. Sealing this moment forever between the two of you...but he pushes it to the back of his head. No, another part of him didn’t want that- as tempting as it may be. If he took that part of you, this wouldn’t be possible. And Lawrence wanted this, whatever this may be, and more of it. More of you. Sex. Intimacy. The touch and warmth of another living being. It was odd, it was still something Lawrence was trying to make sense of. A way that this could remain but you might still be wholly his. All his. Only his.

Lawrence’s reverie is broken only by your arms encircling him and hugging him close to you, one hand carding through his hair to keep his head pressed to your chest as you hum in contentment. “Night, Law.” You mutter with an affectionate kiss to his head as you reach an arm out to turn off your lamp and succumb to sleep. Lawrence lingered awake a while longer, his nocturnal nature something he was grateful for as he relished in the soft breaths while you slept, how your heart slows, the sweet silence as he curls around your body and eventually, an hour or so after observing you, Lawrence sleeps as well.

Eventually sunlight dapples through your blinds, making Lawrence crinkle his nose slightly- he wasn’t accustomed to this. Not that he slept poorly necessarily, but it would take a day or so to get his circadian rhythm back. But it hadn’t been a waste as you groggily rouse beside him with a sleepy smile. “...Hey.” You greet warmly, throat still raspy from sleep as you push some of his bangs from his face. “You sleep okay?” Lawrence nods slowly, drinking in this vulnerable vision of you as you yawn and roll to look at him on your pillow. “You want breakfast or something?” You offer up with that languid smile and something akin to adoration lingering in your eyes, the afterglow looked all the more prepossessing on you. “I have some of that tea still that I brought you a few days ago.”

He pushes up to sit and chews his lip for a moment. Maybe a part of Lawrence had hoped. Had known. “Uh…actually I, uh…I brought some tea for you. I can make us some.” He replies slowly, shifting his gaze to look at you, testing your reaction, if you would find it odd that he brought something besides the wine.

“Aw! Yeah, I’d love that.” You grin and sit up as well, moving to tug fresh underwear on and a large shirt, “You know where the kitchen is, the kettle is on the stove. I’m just gonna freshen up quick.” And with that you disappear into the bathroom while Lawrence prepares you his own specialty brew. 

[sugdenlovesdingle]

A different first meeting AU inspired by Blink182 - The Rock Show because I think Tommy is a rocker (no pun intended)

I'll post to AO3 when I've had some sleep.

🎵 fell in love with the boy at the rock show🎵

---

It wasn't his usual hang out, but after his break up with Natalia, Buck was desperate to surround himself with as much life as possible.

Some hole in the wall bar advertising live music, outside the 118's jurisdiction, seemed the perfect place to do it.

And also to forget he was currently the only single member of the 118 A shift.

The music was decent, the drinks not too expensive, and he liked the general vibe in the place. Even if he didn't recognise the majority of the songs the band was playing.

"Haven't seen you here before." someone said in his ear and he turned around.

The guy was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut diamonds.

"Oh uh... yeah... I mean... no, you haven't. I just wanted a change of scenery, I guess."

"Yeah? And how is that working out for you?" the guy asked, sitting down on the barstool next to Buck.

"Not too bad." he replied. "I think I like it here."

"That's good to hear. It would be a shame if we'd never see you again." the guy smiled and Buck was almost mesmerised by the way his eyes crinkled when he did. "Do you want another?" he nodded at the almost empty glass in front of him.

"Sure."

The guy got up and rounded the bar, grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge.

"Is this your bar or something?"

"It might as well be with the amount of time he spends here." a woman of around their age said, as she walked back behind the bar carrying a serving tray with empty glasses.

"I keep telling you Gina, you should let me buy into this place. Tommy and Gina. Living on a prayer."

"Why does your name get to go first if its my bar?" the woman asked, hand on her hip.

"Because that's how the song goes. Take it up with Jon if you don't like it." he told her and laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

"Get back to your side of the bar, you menace."

The guy, Tommy apparently, laughed again and went back to his seat next to Buck.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"He wishes! I'm a catch!" Gina said while preparing a cocktail.

"Sure you are. If I was into women I would have made a move on you years ago." Tommy told her, looking at Buck from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction.

"If I was into men, I might have appreciated that."

"She loves me really." Tommy told Buck. "Has done since we were kids."

"He was the new kid in the neighbourhood and my mother made me go say hi and play with him. Haven't been able to get rid of him since." Gina commented, and walked away with the cocktail.

Tommy laughed and took a swig of his beer.

"So now you know my name and how my best friend was forced to befriend me... but I don't know anything about you... yet."

"Well... what do you want to know?" Buck asked, trying to tear his eyes away from Tommy's lips when he took another swig.

"Everything." Tommy replied. "But let's start with your name."

"I'm B- my name's Evan." Buck told him, holding out his hand.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at the stumble but didn't mention it.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

They talked for a while. Laughing about everything and nothing, with Tommy getting mock offended when Buck admitted he didn't know the song Tommy insisted was one of his favourites and not many of the others either.

"Hey I spent most of my twenties travelling!" Buck laughed, defending himself. He liked talking to Tommy. He was fun and friendly, and definitely easy on the eye.

Objectively speaking of course. He'd always been able to appreciate a hot guy when he saw one. Just like he'd look at hot women. It meant nothing.

"And you didn't listen to music on your travels?" Tommy asked incredulously.

"I did... but I didn't pay much attention to it I guess" Buck shrugged, taking a swing of his drink. He hadn't really kept track of how many he'd had but he was starting to feel the buzz. "My sister's..." he shook his head trying to think of a word to describe Chim's relation to him and Maddie. "My brother in law..." He settled on. "He's this movie buff and he's always rolling his eyes at me when I don't get his references."

"Not a movie guy either?"

"Not really. I get distracted. I prefer documentaries. I like learning new things." Buck explained and took a good look at Tommy, taking in the amused look on his face. "Let me guess... you're a movie buff too?"

"I like the escapism, sue me." Tommy replied. "But I'm happy to teach you all about the classics. I've been told I'm a good teacher." He smiled and leaned a little closer, and for a minute Buck thought he was about to kiss him.

And how much he wouldn't mind that. At all.

"Thomas, get your ass up here and make yourself useful, man!" the singer from the band that had been playing all night suddenly called out.

And suddenly the moment was gone. Tommy laughed, leaned back, quickly finished his beer, and got up.

"Duty calls... are you sticking around, Evan?"

"Uh y-yeah, sure."

"Great." Tommy said happily and squeezed his shoulder in passing, letting his hand linger just a fraction too long.

He walked up to the stage and someone handed him a guitar.

As the band started playing, Buck recognised the song as one of Tommy's favourites he'd pointed out to him earlier, and couldn't help but stare at the man.

He was laughing with the others and making playing the instrument look effortless.

He was confident. Interesting.

The band played a few songs before Tommy handed the guitar back to a woman Buck hadn't noticed before and he stepped off the stage again.

Buck made his way over, suddenly eager to talk to him before anyone else would have a chance to.

"Hey!" Tommy greeted him and the crinkly smile was back. "Glad you stayed."

"Y-yeah me t-too..." Buck stammered, his brain somewhat disconnected from his mouth. "S-so... you play guitar?"

"Bass actually." Tommy corrected him. "Everyone knows the bass is the most important instrument in a band." he grinned. "I've been playing since I was a teenager and I play with these guys sometimes when I'm around."

"Yeah? You sounded pretty good. You made it look so easy. I wish I could play."

"I could teach you." Tommy offered without missing a beat.

"Yeah? Is that before or after you teach me about classic movies I need to watch?" Buck tilted his head and smiled as he stepped closer to Tommy, only vaguely aware he was doing it.

Tommy glanced down at his lips.

"No reason we can't do both."

Suddenly there were two fingers under Buck's chin, tilting his face up and Tommy's lips on his for the softest first kiss he'd ever had.

It was over before Buck's brain had really caught up with what was happening and he just stared at Tommy with a dazed and confused look on his face.

"Sorry I - " Tommy started but Buck cut him off, putting a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close and kissing him until neither of them could remember their own name.

~ A few days later ~

"There he is, Tommy Kinard, the man of the hour. Long time no see. " Chim said, pulling the guy that had just walked up to them in for a quick hug.

Buck couldn't get a good look at him from where he was standing. The guy was just muscles under a straining blue flight suit and slightly messy brown hair, until Chim stepped away and Buck choked on air.

Chim's buddy was the Tommy from the bar. The bassist who had turned his world upside down with two fingers under his chin in a dark corner of a bar he'd ended up in by chance.

"Let me introduce you to these two knuckleheads. This is Buck and Eddie." Chim gestured at them. "Guys this is Tommy, he used to be at the 118 when you two were just a twinkle in Bobby's eye."

Eddie stepped forward first and shook Tommy's hand.

"Eddie Diaz, thanks for helping us out."

"Sure thing. If Howie calls I answer. I owe him my life."

Eddie nodded and stepped back and gave Buck an expectant look.

"Oh. Right. Yes." Buck stammered and walked up to Tommy holding out his hand. "I'm Evan... E-Evan Buckley."

Tommy smiled as he shook his hand and Buck's knees turned to jello. Again.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

[princessracecar]

“Describe to me in detail the exact texture of a perfect pumpkin pie.” Says Armand from behind his notebook.

“Uh” says Janet, the manager at the all night bakery exactly 3.475 miles away from the condo he shares with Daniel.

He doesn’t need Daniel knowing about his plans and Daniel is a great many things, but stupid is not one of them.

The bakery’s two regular employees, Elizabeth and Garret shoot them furtive glances from behind the counter. He’s not allowed to talk to Elizabeth and Garret anymore. Apparently he was being “creepy” and “intense” and waiting to ambush them with questions out in the parking lot was also not acceptable. Daniel wants him to rely less on his vampiric gifts. “If you’re going to act like a human, you should maybe try to actually act like a human” he had said. Whatever that means. Armand hasn’t been a human in a very long time and many of their behaviors are confusing to say the least. But if he isn’t to use the Mind Gift to parse the answers he needs, he needs to be… personable.

And so he sits with Janet, who had agreed not to call the police on him as long as he promised to “stop being weird” and buy something. The look on her face implied that he should buy several somethings. Perhaps many somethings. There was now a box of individually wrapped slices of cake settled on the table next to them in the corner booth that they are currently occupying. He can’t bring the cakes back to Daniel because then he will absolutely know something is going on, but perhaps he can leave them on the doorstep of a family the next street over without arousing suspicion.

He can tell that Janet is trying very hard not to ask him why he doesn’t try some of the pies the bakery has on display. It’s a fair question. Maybe he can pretend to be allergic to eggs. There are eggs in pies aren’t there? Food is so much different now than it was when he was alive. He takes a breath he doesn’t need and says very quickly “This is my first Thanksgiving with my husband and I want it to be perfect.” There, that was a normal thing to say. It even had some relation to the truth. Somewhat. If you squinted a lot. Janet, however, visibly relaxes in the booth across from him and beams in delight.

“This is Armand.” Says the still smiling Janet to the tall and rather disheveled looking blonde woman wearing chef’s whites with her hands buried in some sort of floury mixture spread out across the top of the metal table in the back room of the bakery. The woman had tersely introduced herself at Katia before turning to Janet and proclaiming “Isn’t that the guy who was being weird on the security cameras?”

“This is shortcrust pastry.” Says Katia after several tense minutes and a very pointed eyebrow from Janet. Armand dutifully writes “shortcrust pastry” in his notebook.

Katia takes on the air of someone about to deliver a very in-depth lecture. The slight tightening around her eyes (as well as her inner monologue) implies that he had better pay attention.

“It’s used in both sweet and savory pastries, tarts, and pies and is referred to as a “short” crust because the texture is light and crumbly.”

Katia explains to him the process of making the pastry. For some reason there is rendered animal fat involved and he is made to absolutely promise that he will not use “the devil’s ingredient” although he is utterly unsure what “Crisco” is. Perhaps some sort of poison.

“We roast our own pumpkin in house. It’s sourced from a local farm that’s known for their pie pumpkins.” says Katia. Armand feels his eyes widen ever so slightly in doubt.

“Of course, you can always use canned pumpkin” she continues with the air of someone who has just suggested that he eat raw sewage.

“It appears very… orange” hazards Armand. Katia narrows her eyes at him.

“I am certain most humans love it!” He backpedals. Katia gazes at him a moment longer and then visibly moves on.

She shows him the finished pies balancing on the cooling rack. They are no less orange than the roasted pumpkin that she had shown him earlier. He had looked up pictures of pumpkin pies on the internet and hoped that they would perhaps look less orange in person. He thinks that actually, the opposite is true. At least the baked ones no longer looked like soup.

“And people enjoy these?” He asks

“Yes.” Says Katia irritatedly. “Now get out of my kitchen.”

He strolls home through the night, box of cakes wedged awkwardly under one arm. He had no idea human food was so complicated. He supposes that he hasn’t given much thought to human food in a very long time. When he was alive it was more about sustenance than pleasure. He realizes that he wants this meal to be pleasurable for Daniel, after all it will be his last Thanksgiving as a human.

[tgmsunmontue]

Get your motor runnin' - 6/6

Bradley, a bit of a (very talented) grease monkey and Jake, who has been sent to see him because he's apparently the best mechanic Maverick knows.

A longer fleshed out fic at the request of @poetryandpickles based on their idea in this post.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

PART SIX

                He has no idea what he’s going to say to Bradshaw when he gets there, assuming Bradshaw is even home and not somewhere else. Fortunately he has a two-hour drive to fucking think about what he’s going to say. Apologize obviously. Why though? Because he cares what some guy he’s met twice thinks about him? Or because he cares about what Maverick thinks of him? Or Admiral Simpson? Or because Admiral Simpson sort of ordered-slash-suggested he do so?

                Fuck.

                He guesses he needs to start at the beginning and maybe apologize for just… leaving in the middle of the night. That was sort of a dick move. And then he accused him of being a cheater. Bradshaw’s look of confusion makes a lot more sense now, but there is no way that Jake is getting out of this without looking like a douche bag and an idiot all rolled into one package. He just has to hope that Bradshaw still likes the package…

                Oh.

                Oh shit.

                The realization that he was disappointed when he thought Bradshaw was married hits him. His anger had overridden it in the moment, it’s only now that he’s thinking about it that he has time to unpick it. He wasn’t ever actively planning on seeing Bradshaw again, and now he’s driving to see him and hopefully hold a conversation with him. Assuming he doesn’t deck Jake. Admiral Simpson had implied he had a temper and he’s also Maverick’s… kid? It’s a lot to process.

                Coupled with the fact that he’s maybe not just leaving Bradshaw as a one-night stand. That the fact that he was disappointed means he’s maybe interested in something more. Which sucks, because he doubts Bradshaw will be interested, not with Jake sneaking out after their night together, and then his behavior this morning… It’s why he doesn’t usually try and pursue anything. Easier and he doesn’t get rejected.

                Or worse.

                Hurt.

…            …            …

                Sometimes his ear for engines is more of a curse than a blessing; he can tell what’s in the sky, and he can recognize car engines from a block away, sometimes further if it’s a distinctive engine or very noisy. So he has a little forewarning that Jake’s car is pulling into his lot. He’s only been home a quarter of an hour, so Jake must have left immediately after him and he wonders what he wants. His annoyance has faded during the drive, leaving behind a healthy dose of confusion.

                Only one way to find out he supposes and he pushes himself to his feet and heads out to the yard, closing the door behind him. Sure enough Jake is there, getting out of his shitty car which Bradley wouldn’t buy for spare parts. He’s still one of the most attractive men Bradley’s ever seen this close. He hadn’t expected to see him again, not with how he snuck out; but he at least knew there might be a slim chance of them crossing paths one day in the future with them having Maverick in common. Clearly from the surprise on Jake’s face earlier he hadn’t made the same connection, or even known about it.

                “Jake.”

                “Hi.”

                “What do you want?” Bradley asks, because there’s no point in dragging it out or playing at niceties given their earlier interaction. Jake is leaning on his car, arms braced on the roof, and he’s wearing exactly the same thing Bradley saw him in earlier. Casual jeans and a button-down, not as dressed-down as he had been the first time Bradley saw him, but obviously Mav still earns the button-down shirt level of dressiness.

                “I want to apologize.”

                Bradley blinks, frowns and then crosses his arms and presses his lips together, because yeah, he thinks he deserves an apology but he’d like to know why Jake thinks he needs to apologize; there’s only one thing he can think of and he has to admit he’s curious as to what the hell Jake was thinking to accuse him of cheating. Part of him wants to be petty and say he doesn’t want to hear it, but a much bigger part is curious.

                “Yeah. Okay. Let’s hear it.”

                “Uh. I’m sorry.”

                “Wow. Eloquent.”

                “Fuck off. I’m going to come out of this looking like the biggest idiot. Bare with me…”

                Oh. Well then. That sounds a lot more promising. He puts his aviators on, then shoves his hands in his pockets, steps forward toward the car so it’s between them. He doesn’t lean on it though, he has standards.

                “I’m listening.”

                Jake looks pained, scrubs at his face, squints at the sun and then turns to him.

                “I thought you and Maverick were married.”

…            …            …           

                The look on Bradshaw’s face shifts so rapidly between shock and confusion through disgust to incredulity Jake struggles to keep up, wonders what he’s thinking.

                “Yeah. You’re an idiot.”

                Jake shrugs and pulls a face, because he really does feel like as ass right now.

                “I still haven’t heard an apology.”

                “Shit. Sorry. I mean… I’m sorry I accused you of cheating on Maverick,” Jake starts, has to stop the little hysterical curl of laughter he’s holding onto firmly in his gut. “I assumed wrongly, and I’m sorry. Honestly. I’d say it won’t happen again, but, uh…” he trails off, not sure what to say next.

                “You make a habit of being an idiot huh?”

                “Not usually, but I’m two for two. Got to apologize for the first time too. Sorry I snuck out in the middle of the night like that.”

                Bradshaw shakes his head, shoulders shrugging and Jake tries not to remember how they felt under his hands.

                “No apology needed for that. We didn’t make any promises. I’ll admit to being a little disappointed about there not being a round three but…” he shrugs again and his lips are twitching with what Jake really hopes is amusement.

                “Disappointed huh?”

                “Maybe.”

                “Well, I was disappointed when I thought you were married.”

                Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that. Both Bradshaw’s eyebrows are up now, eyes wide, but his lips aren’t twitching, they’re spread in a teasing grin and Jake totally expects to get the piss taken out of him.

                “Married. Which you thought for maybe ten minutes. How would that make you disappointed?”

                Jake licks his lips, doesn’t miss the fact that Bradshaw’s eyes follow the movement.

                “Maybe I wanted it to be me you were married to.”

                “Marriage huh? Wow. That’s moving fast.”

                “Fuck off. I fly fighter jets. I live fast.”

                “Yeah, and if I want to take things slow?”

                “I’ll go whatever speed you want me too,” Jake says, and he hopes the fact that he’s actually serious bleeds through this teasing flirty banter.

                “Hmm. And Mav being my father figure isn’t a deal breaker?”

                “Definitely not,” Jake scoffs. “Is me being an idiot a deal breaker?”

                “Lucky for you I kind of find it hot…”

                “What about the fact that I’m deployed months at a time?”

                “Oh, I’m sure you’ll make it up to me when you’re on leave…”

                “Be a pleasure to try… Let me take you to lunch?”

                “Yeah. But not in your car.”

EPILOGUE

                “You like that princess?” Bradley asks, mouth close to Jake’s ear as he rolls his hips, his cock sliding in and out of Jake’s ass, his body, slick with sweat, pressed into the mattress by Bradley’s body above him, holding him and Jake can’t form words, just moans and trusts that Bradley will take care of him. He always does, taking particularly special care when Jake first gets back from being deployed; like Bradley needs hours to reacquaint himself with Jake’s body. Jake is definitely not complaining.

                They hadn’t exactly moved slowly, but neither are they married. Jake had let Bradley sell his car and buy him a new one while he was deployed last, and when Bradley had slid out of the bright blue Bronco and walked toward him Jake’s mouth had gone dry, remembering the first time seeing his legs underneath a vehicle of some sort, but that they’d just seemed endless. He still can’t believe he gets to call Bradley Bradshaw his, even if the name is something that will make him side-eye his parents even if they are in graves.

                “Jake baby… you with me sweetheart?”

                “Yeah. Yeah,” Jake manages to gasp out. “I’m with you.”

[archiveikemen]

"Dark If" Story Event: Chapter 2

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games.

Read this before interacting

It had been several days since I came to the castle. … But my situation remained unchanged. 

No matter how begged him to, the fairy refused to break the curse or even extend the deadline. 

(I’m forbidden from leaving the castle too, so I don't have any other options…)

What hurt me even more was Ellis. 

Ever since learning about his connection with Jude, I’ve started actively avoiding him. 

(Just this morning…)

= Flashback Start = 

Ellis: Good morning, Kate. I brought breakfast.

Ellis: I’ve got your favourite freshly baked bread with raspberry jam. 

Kate: …

Ellis: … I don’t mind if you don’t talk to me, but please eat. I’m worried about you.

Ellis: You won’t have energy without water, nutrients, and sunlight…

= Flashback End = 

Feelings of guilt welled up in me again when I recalled the sadness in his face as he left. 

(I really do want to go back to being friends like we were, but I just can’t find the right chance…) 

I wandered into the castle garden to clear my mind. 

Looking at the briar made me think of him—

Kate: … Ellis…

I unintentionally called out his name. 

In an instant, the briar in the garden rustled and crept towards me— suddenly, small white flowers bloomed from them. 

(... It’s almost as though they’re trying to cheer me up.)

(I remember how I used to see briar as my friend.) 

During my childhood, being a princess meant that I didn't have many people I could talk freely with and was hence often feeling lonely…

I’d always talk to the briar growing in the castle’s back garden. 

(I’d tell it all sorts of silly things… like how much I loved raspberry jam or how the air smells after it rains.)

(... Come to think of it, I gave the briar a name too.)

There was once where a gardener tried to clear out the briar for being a nuisance, so I gave it a name to protect it. 

“This is my friend! Don’t cut it away! It even has a name, it’s—” 

(I… what did I name that briar again?) 

I tried my best to recall… but in the end, I couldn't remember it at all. 

Still, the flowers blooming from the briar were a beautiful sight and gave me the courage to apologise to Ellis for my recent attitude towards him. 

Kate: I wonder where Ellis is right now…

Just as I muttered those words under my breath, the briar started stretching in one direction. 

Kate: Are you… pointing me towards Ellis?

When I asked, half-convinced, more white flowers bloomed rapidly as though telling me that I was right.

Kate: Thanks, I’ll follow you. 

Having grown accustomed to the peculiarities of the fairytale world, I followed after the briar. 

…

(Oh, there’s Ellis… and is that Jude with him?)

Ellis: — Why don't you break Kate’s curse, Jude?

Ellis: She really wishes for you to.

Jude: Ha? Don’t ask me such stupid questions. I’m tryin’ to do somethin’ ‘bout her illness, ain’t I? 

(Do something about my “illness”...?) 

(The thing I have is a “curse”, isn’t it? … What illness is he talking about?)

Kate: What do you mean by that, Jude?

Jude: W-when did ya… were ya eavesdroppin’? 

Ellis: Jude. Kate looks like she really wants to know, so just tell her about it.

Kate: Please do…! 

Jude: … 

Jude sighed… and began telling a truth I never knew.

Apparently, I had an incurable disease and my time was limited.

Jude learned of this by chance and in an attempt to help me, he cursed me so that I would fall into a deep slumber for 100 years right before my death. 

Jude: After ya fall asleep, I’ll spend that 100 years searchin’ for a cure and pay back my debt. 

Kate: So you were trying to help me… thank you for that.

Kate: But why didn't you clear up the misunderstanding earlier?

Judes … Says the daughter of the stupid King who won’t listen to a damn thing anyone tells him. 

Kate: I-I’m sorry my father was rude… 

Kate: … But I’m glad I found out about it now.

Kate: It means I won't have a misunderstanding towards you anymore… and I don’t have to think I’ve been “betrayed” by Ellis. 

Ellis: … So does that mean we can go back to being friends? 

Kate: If you’re alright with it, of course. … I’m sorry for treating you so coldly. 

Ellis: I didn’t mind, so you don’t have to worry about that either.

Seeing Ellis’ smile at me like flowers blooming had my heart racing again.

— It felt like it was urging me to realise something, a certain feeling. 

…

Later that night, after Ellis and I cleared up the misunderstanding between us and reconciled.

Ellis suddenly asked me a question after dinner.

Ellis: You don’t need Jude to break your curse anymore?

Kate: Of course not! The purpose of Jude’s curse is to keep me alive, after all.

Ellis: …

Kate: … Ellis? 

Although I thought my answer was to be expected, Ellis looked surprised.

I began to worry if I had said something strange. 

Ellis: If you’re fine with the curse not being broken…

Ellis: … Does that mean you still want to live? 

Kate: …? Yeah. There are things I still have to do… 

Although I had put it on hold for a while, I needed to find what was missing from this story and correct the twists. 

(Oh… but if I fix the twist and return to my original world…)

(I won’t be able to be together with Ellis anymore.) 

When I first came to this fairytale world, all I could think about was that I had to find a way back… 

But along the way, I started feeling like I didn't want to leave. The main reason was Ellis.

(I want to spend more time with Ellis.) 

(I want to eat delicious food with him, enjoy beautiful sights together… I’d even love to go on another journey with him.)

(I want to know more about Ellis. I want to see his smile from even closer to him…) 

Those desires flowed endlessly through me, filling my heart with a strong yearning. 

(Could this feeling be… love?) 

That said, my life was still in danger and it wasn't the right time to be confessing to him. 

(I’ve decided… once my illness is cured, I’ll tell Ellis about my feelings.)

However, while I was making that decision, I didn't notice that Ellis’ twilight coloured eyes had darkened and clouded over. 

…

And so, the search for a cure to my illness began. 

Although, in reality, it was Jude who did most of the actual searching and mixing potential medicine while Ellis took down the pursuers sent by my father and the assassins targeting Jude. 

Meanwhile, I took care of our meals, clothes, and living space, supporting them in their everyday lives. 

— But there was no progress, and time continued slipping away. 

…

Jude: … We’re short on medicinal ingredients, so I’m headin’ out. Be back in half a day. 

Although he’d never admit it, Jude looked worn out as he spoke before leaving the castle.

(Is it really alright to leave everything to Jude? Maybe there’s more I could be doing to help…)

Ellis: … Something on your mind, Kate?

Kate: Yeah. I’m just… frustrated that all I can do is watch from the sidelines…

Ellis: I see… is there anything I can do to help? 

Ellis: I like you, so I want to give you strength.

Kate: eh.

(W-what kind of “like” does he mean…?)

I was a blushing mess but when I glanced at Ellis’ facial expression, he looked the same as always… he didn't look like he was confessing his love. 

Kate: Just in case… Ellis, do you like Jude? 

Ellis: Jude? Yeah, I do. I owe him, after all.

Kate: I-I see…

(... Thank goodness I didn't jump to conclusions. Ellis’ definition of “I like you” is platonic!) 

It was a little disappointing, but I quickly regained my composure and returned to the topic. 

Kate: Umm, anyway… I think I should do some research on my illness too.

Kate: Will you help me?

…

And so, we made our way to the study that Jude said was off-limits to us.

Kate: Found it! 

Thanks to Jude’s meticulous personality, it didn't take long for us to find what we were looking for. 

The research report about my illness was stored neatly in one of the desk drawers. 

Kate: Um, let's see… “Briar Disease”?

According to the report, I contracted the disease by pricking myself on the thorns of a special kind of enchanted briar. 

(Briar? Could it be…) 

I was suddenly reminded of the briar I would talk to as a child. 

(I remember being pricked by one of them and coming down with a high fever.)

(... Maybe that’s when I contracted this illness.)

“When the time comes, the thorn embedded in the body will rapidly grow, destroying the patient from their insides and ultimately resulting in death.” 

“The only solution is to completely eliminate the existence of the briar the thorn came from, whether it is by burning or other means.” 

As I read further, I found out that Jude had already identified the briar in question and it grew in the royal castle’s back garden.

However—.

“The briar is stubborn and unyielding, resisting all attempts to eliminate it.” 

“It's a monstrous plant that regenerates even when burned or cut down. All efforts were in vain.” 

Kate: So Jude concluded that it’s impossible to destroy the briar and started researching other ways to cure the illness.

Ellis: Yeah, he really tried every method he could come up with. He drowned it, froze it, burned it… you name it. 

Ellis: The most painful one was when he chopped it up. 

(Ellis was involved in trying to kill the briar too…)

(Since the briar is thorny, holding it while chopping it up must've hurt really badly.) 

Ellis: … Hey, Kate.

Ellis: Do you truly want to cure your illness and continue living? 

(I want to live, and… I want to keep talking to Ellis more and more.)

Kate: Yeah… of course.

Ellis: I see… so that’s your current wish. 

Ellis: It’s… different from back then. 

For some reason, Ellis wore a rather lonely smile. 

Kate: Ellis…?

Ellis: … I understand your feelings. Well then, let’s go.

Ellis: If we go now, we can kill the briar. 

[hyperdramas]

dokyeom with a talented cook s/o

warnings: mentions of overreating & being self-conscious about weight, a single the bear reference

now playing: flamingo, kero kero bonito (2020 lyr would have screamed in joy)

— seokmin is a great cook okay he's stated in the most recent allure korea video that he enjoys cooking and can make a mean sotbap

— but he wants to be spoiled by you sometimes

— ESPECIALLY if you can cook well

— he's really shy in the way he asks you to make something for dinner

— but you know he wants something

— he's always hovering around you when you walk into the kitchen for whatever reason, and after a while you just ask "what do you wanna eat dokyeom?" to which he pretends to act surprised about

— loves ANYTHING you cook or bake but has a personal list of requests he usually asks you for

— seokmin loves when you guess what he wants to eat before he tells you

— 9 times out of 10 it's an italian dish since he's still on his italy kick from nana tour

— will try to help you in the best way he can

— seokmin has matching aprons for you and him so whenever one of you is cooking, the other can supervise or watch with a matching apron

— helps you cut anything you need and is literally SO professional w it

— dicing tomatoes and onions like carmy berzatto from the bear

— eats and eats and EATS until he's satisfied (he's a plate cleaner)

— sometimes feels self-conscious about his weight or body and will not eat as much or as fast as he usually does (which you catch onto quickly)

— he's also very wary of overreating and sometimes will not eat at all (which you're very strict about at times because you want him to be healthy)

— you always assure him that he doesn't need to eat much, but also doesn't need to go without food or be hard on himself for enjoying a good meal

— professional at pairing drinks or wine with any meal

— he always gets cheery after that, and you give him a nice bowl of vanilla ice cream to cheer him up

— seokmin is your eager taste tester

— any sauce, broth, noodle, or egg you cook, seokmin is on standby, ready to try & give you feedback on it

— a great detector of missing flavors

— if your dish needs more salt, pepper, soy sauce, sesame oil, or whatever else you added in, seokmin can tell you what you need without hesitation

— always eats your food, whether it's something he's tried before, something he hasn't had, or testing an experiment you had just created

— calls you every fancy name under the sun when you plate your dishes like a professional with the smeared sauce on the plate & perfect seasoning

— literally brags to his friends about how you were a michelin-star chef in your past life

— buys new cookbooks almost every month so he can convince you to cook something out of them

— will pay for the groceries for the meal and EVERYTHING (he will do anything just as long as he gets to eat it)

— values meal time with you, and will always try to make a way for the two of you to have dinner together and at the same time

— seokmin LOVES you, but he also LOVES your cooking <3

[decaffeinatedcandycane]

RANDOM Headcanons: Buying make-up shenanigans

Warnings ⚠ none

Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, Andre, Konig, Gaz, Horangi, Nikolai

Has "can figure everything out" attitude and confidently enters a store just to get lost in it.

Browses for hours, gets mad when he can't decide, then gets distracted by another item. Rinse and repeat.

The cycle continues until he snatches a sales person, or a manager suspects him of stealing, asks tons of questions, ends up buying himself lipgloss (smells like coconut)

There is just too much stuff in the store, it gets him overwhelmed.

Tries to tactically question you about makeup, gives up and snoops through your bags.

Eventually buys some more "stuff" (gets himself different smelling lipbalms and lipglosses) and gets you something you already have.

Admits what he was doing and drags you back to the store with him.

Bonus: The sales people there are sweating upon his arrival. Even the trainee learnt the makeup brands, just by staying next to Price and listening as he asks his question. And he asks, asks questions - even about the ingredients.

Baby boy loves sparkles and the smell of makeup. The salesmen don't like him that much.

He knows what you like, however he is not permitted to shop alone. Why? His toxic trait is that: he buys in bulk.

You learnt that the hard way, after he came home with 27 eyeshadow pallets.

Expiration dates who?

Has a mascara from 7 years ago. Refuses to throw it away. Only does so, after you show him a documentary about eye infection.

Please take a moment to envision how tall and scary he looks in the makeup aisle, standing behind you like a creepy statue, dull on black, with his balaclava. I just giggled.

Insist on paying for everything ( didn't say anything about Price, because there is no insisting - he just pays. Ghost, at least pretends he will let you pay.)

Despises the blackhead mask. Did it once, regretted his life choices.

Experimenting king.

He is the dude who will visit a store, several times, no matter where he is at and buy whatever is new, shiny and cool.

Loves giving you his makeup finds and watching you apply/wear them.

Plays with your brushes a lot. ( They are just so soft and fluffy)

Bonus: Buys skincare for you and the team. Forces his team in spa day retreats.

Definitely knows what to buy.

He knows your makeup, especially if you live together.

Gets lost in the brushes sections and touches everything fluffy. (Don't let him shop with Soap)

Smells everything and if he wants to try something new, buys whatever smells best.

Compares prices online, if a salesperson is mean to him, buys the cheaper stuff and returns back to the store. (Petty boy)

Prefers more matte and glossy options, rather than sparkles.

You already know imma gonna say it. But if you think people get scared of Ghost in a store, you should see them around König.

Can he wear civilian clothes and no mask. Yes. Does he. Sometimes. If he feels like it.

You reassure every sales person that he is with you and he is no a threat.

König in a makeup store is like a kid around new shiny things. Touches everything.

Wants to buy everything.

"No, I don't need this" and "Put it back" are your go to phrases.

Does not enter tight stores after a shelf incident.

If you shop for hours he may make friends with the staff and even help them with the heavy lifting. (lil show-off 👑)

Gets shifty easily, so you better have Horangi nearby or be located near a food court.

Steals shit. Not because he has to, but because he can.

Definitely goes shopping alone, or uses you as a mule for his stolen goods.

Absolute creature when it comes to makeup sponges. Tiny, squishy and come in different shapes and colors.

Has a collection of them.

Sample king (loves free shit, espcially of expensive products), but has a deep appreciation of the tiny samples. Keeps them as another collection.

Lost af

Buys whatever the makeup girl tells him to buy.

He will try to figure out your makeup, after trying solo shopping and will buy some stuff. Not incompetent at all.

Hates the stores. Sales people continuously snuck up on him and talk. Nikolai is not a fan.

Sorry, but he has a special place saved for hatred for every store where he has to socialize.

Has enough opinions on products to need any external ones.

Will buy you makeup as a gift, but that's it.

Don't drag him to a store, ever.

Makeup judge. Buys only brands he trusts and ignores the rest.

Goes with you and glares at the sales people, who try to make you buy more products.

Buys his lipbalm at a grocery store to avoid sales pitches.

Huge on skin care and hair products, which he orders online.

Loves when people stare at you at the store, always puts a hand around your waist. "Yup,she is with me" attitude (one of the main reasons on why he shops with you)

[supersecretnerd]

Ok so these designs are cute as hell, the Internet is just mean

I have too many thoughts about a game I still need to watch

[zoppzoop]

GAAHAHHHHH

[icewindandboringhorror]

I love all of these goofy product photos where the water bottle is extremely obviously just photoshopped onto a stock image of someone pretending to hold something or whatever.. very convincing..

[vogelmeister]

omg your tags on the reblog of my post - that's word for word how i feel and i HATE it, things have felt artificial to me since 1989, reputation was better but ever since lover it's felt like that 1000x more idk.. it just sucks but yeah you're not the only one feeling that way :')

THANK YOU! It's really nice to see that someone else has been feeling this way and I really begun to think deeply into why I feel like this. And you're right, it has really been since rep that it has felt... idk, less authentic.

I remember during the red and 1989 era, taylor was doing a lot of shit that actually showed how much she loved us. And by all means, she didn't have to, but it was little things such as the hidden notes in her album lyric books that made me feel a bit more connected to her. Not to mention stuff like swiftmas, the secret sessions and of course t-party all made us feel like one big family and that she was actually thankful for us. She didn't gain anything out of this, it was all "for the fans" and it made being a swiftie loads of fun, especially those hidden messages, which lbr costed nothing to keep doing. (1989 was her last i think)

Nowadays, when she does it, it feels more calculated and less authentic and I get maybe it's a safety thing that she can't do secret sessions and swiftmas etc anymore, but now even when she does things for the fans, it's stuff like releasing loads of versions of the one album so we all buy it (see, the midnight clock), and because we have this relationship we built up with her, we feel we owe our loyalty. It feels like she does these things to show she cares, but she wants our money in return. And believe me, there's other ways you can show it. The wiping of her social media defs slightly killed her authenticity, I think. Even though I understand why she did it, it certainly didnt help her relationship with the fans or it's authenticity. I do believe she still is thankful for us, but I can't help but notice the business aspect creeping in, and I just wish a lot of swifties knew you don't have to buy in to it. She's human, she has flaws, you don't have to always defend her, or buy her merch. It's almost business at this point, and I hate it.

I hate it. And I hate it more because I almost understand why its like this.