#when i found out he was i nearly chewed him to bits on the spot

[teddypoi-qd]

can we PLEASE talk abt kim being mixed. please god.

[gothgoblinbabe]

Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You

Chapter (2/2):

Logan Howlett x fem reader

A/N: I finally finished part 2 and this bitch is long as hell , I’m so sorry but I got real into it and I hope it’s as well received as the first part (thank u btw you guys are so sweet)

Warnings: smut, like really nasty gross freaky shit so minors dni, friends to lovers, swearing, unprotected sex (pls don’t do that), praise kink kind of, sub!Logan a lil’ bit and he absolutely has a pain kink, and the one bed trope yesssiirrrr

Word count: 6K (I told you she’s long asf)

Tags: @annagraceevanss

pt 1

text divider credit

You followed close behind Logan as you made your way to your shared room. When he unlocked the door and you both stepped in, you dropped your bags to one side of the bed and took a second to look around the room.

“It’s not too bad in here. Surprisingly clean,” you commented, moving some of the bedding around to check for any critters.

“Yeah. How’s your bug check going?” Logan joked, putting down his bag. 

“All clear, looks fine to me,” you said, tucking the sheets back in and fixing the duvet.

You both got settled in silence for a minute before Logan spoke again, pulling articles of clothing out of his bag.

“I’m gonna take a shower, you wanna go first?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to answer the question and not dwell on the idea that he’d be naked in the next room.

“Uh, it’s - that’s fine, you can go first,” you managed to stutter out, dropping your head to your hands when he slid into the bathroom and closed the door. He had to know something was up by now with how strange you felt you acted around him, always blushing and hiding your face and giggling like a little kid.

You heard the squeak of the shower knob and the running water beating against the tiles, only making your wandering thoughts worse. There had to be something in here to do other than think about your friend naked. 

Friend, right?

You huffed and stood from your spot sitting on the bed, picking up your bag from the floor and setting it where you had just been. You rifled through until you found sweatpants, underwear, socks, and…no shirt, because you’d forgotten to pack one. 

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, looking down at the one you were wearing now. It wasn’t that you couldn’t wear it to bed - it was just a cotton t-shirt - but you’d been wearing it all day and didn’t particularly want to sweat in it all night either.

You waited patiently for Logan to finish in the bathroom after that, sitting up against the headboard with a book in hand. You’d been so immersed in the pages in front of you and the unfamiliar but peaceful silence that you nearly jumped at the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Logan stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, his still-wet hair dripping onto his shoulders and back. You knew he was very muscular, that had always been obvious, but this was the first time you’d actually seen him like that and you’d already pulled your book up to cover the quickly reddening lower half of your face. 

He’d caught you looking almost immediately, your eyes scanning all the way from his broad shoulders to the start of the white towel around him. You were really terrible at being subtle at this point. 

“What, like what you see, princess?” He teased, amused to see your eyes grow wide for a split second before you feigned annoyance.

“Yeah, right, you wish,” you rolled your eyes, pretending now to be completely invested in your book even though you weren’t able to read a single word since he’d walked out of the bathroom.

“Sometimes,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, his back turned to you as he picked up his clothes.

You looked up for a moment, narrowing your eyes.

“Huh?”

“Hm?”

“Did you say something?”

He thought for a second, considering whether or not this was a moment to be truthful.

“Nope.”

So, no, it wasn’t.

With that, he made his way back into the bathroom to change and was out again in minutes.

“It’s all yours,” he gestured to the bathroom, settling himself down onto one side of the bed and locking his hands behind his head. He was wearing his normal white beater and a pair of gray sweatpants with the academy’s logo printed on it somewhere.  Jesus, you practically had to shut your eyes completely to look away from him. You’d never physically been that close before and it nearly drove you insane. 

“Mhm,” you finally hummed in response, much too overwhelmed with that fact that he was so close and smelled so good. 

You grabbed your clothes and went in, pulling the shower curtain back and turning the knob on the wall. You undressed, cleaned yourself up in the shower and stepped out, shivering from the contrast of the warm water and the cool air. You began to dress and remembered a critical detail.

Still don’t have a shirt.

You picked up your towel and tucked it around your chest, covering your bare upper half. You opened the bathroom door just a creak, enough to lean yourself out.

“Hey, Logan.”

He’d been staring at the ceiling in thought but he looked to you when you spoke, clearing his throat when he saw your bare shoulders. Your skin looked so soft and he could almost imagine what it felt like, warm up against him.

“Yeah?” He finally responded.

“Would you maybe have a shirt I could borrow for the night? I thought I packed one, but I didn't.”

“Yeah, probably,” he answered without a second thought, moving to look through his bag once again. He tossed a flannel button down in your direction and you caught it with one hand, the other holding the towel around you. When you slipped back behind the door once again, you pulled the garment over your shoulders and buttoned it, leaving you in that and a pair of pajama shorts that you could barely see peeking from the bottom hem of the shirt. You brought the collar of the shirt up to your nose, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne and body wash. God, this was torture.

When you’d left the bathroom, Logan’s eyes were glued to the way the shirt fell so loosely on your smaller frame, the rolled up sleeves still long enough to reach your wrist. He caught himself smiling while he watched you move around the room to look for something.

“What?” you finally spoke, able to feel his eyes on the back of your head.

“Nothin’,” he said lowly, “just…you look cute in that. I didn’t think it would be so big on you that you're swimmin’ in it.”

You could hear the slight chuckle he’d let out after and your face felt warm. You turned away from your bag to face him, hands now full with skincare products.

“The hell do you do with all that?” Logan changed the subject, much to your relief.

“It’s my skin care routine.”

“Routine?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you just use, like, soap or something?”

The look on your face was one of horror and you returned to the bathroom and laid out all of your products. You saw Logan appear in the doorway from your view in the mirror, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What, you wanna watch?”

You didn’t mean it in any other way but he couldn’t help how much he liked the way you asked that, always teasing.

“I don’t know, you gonna put on a show?”

The back and forth between you two was fun, maybe sometimes a little mean but it had never been so flirty  before. 

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut, silence settling between you again as he watched your every move from the doorway. He had an expression you found almost unreadable, his lower lip tucked between his teeth and his eyes looking almost tired. After the moment in the truck, you’d told yourself you would never dig in his mind again, at least for the remainder of the trip. 

Still, curiosity was a monster that overtook the best of you sometimes. 

You could see the visual of you, again, only this time it was from his perspective in the doorway. 

He was thinking of you, but it couldn’t mean much of anything. Of course he’s thinking of you, you’re right in front of him. 

It didn’t mean much of anything at all until you could see his imagination start to work itself up, able to see his hands slip underneath that flannel and grip your hips as he crowded you from behind. 

You were so glad at that moment that you were scrubbing cleanser into your face with your eyes closed, unable to look Logan in the eyes while he was thinking about dragging his hands up your bare sides.

You pulled yourself out of that and focused back onto the task at hand, rinsing and drying your face. When you finally did open your eyes again, he was stood closer to the counter, inspecting all the labels on the little containers and bottles. You did your best not to look at him, afraid your face would be far too telling.

“What the hell is this gooey shit?” 

You watched Logan open a jar and dip a finger in, cringing at the consistency. You sighed and grabbed it from his hands, setting it back down on the counter. Well, you had wanted to avoid looking at him, but he made that as hard as possible. 

“It’s a face mask.”

He picked the jar back up again, taking a whiff of the contents. His eyebrows furrowed and he did it again, as if trying to place the scent.

“It smells like strawberries.”

“Mhm, it’s a strawberry face mask.”

You gently took it from his hands once more, this time with the intention of actually using it.

“So, you, like, leave it on or what? Rinse it?” He questioned, leaning with his back against the counter as he watched you spread the mask onto your face.

“I leave it on for fifteen minutes-ish and then rinse it,” you responded, screwing the lid back onto the container. Logan’s eyes followed the movement and stayed focused on the jar.

“Do you want some?” You smiled a little, aware of his curiosity, “I can put a lil’ bit on you. Avoiding the beard, of course.”

He shrugged in his sincere attempt to seem nonchalant, but he felt warm inside at the thought of your small hands smearing that stupid pink stuff all on his face. Really, it was just an excuse to get you to (rather innocently) touch him. 

You unscrewed the cap again, looking up at him. He realized the reason for your hesitation and leaned himself down a little so you could reach his face with ease.

“Thank you,” you giggled, stomach turning a bit at how close his face was now. You started to apply the mask, his eyes focused on yours almost the entire time. Every time you’d move your hand, still, his eyes were focused on the shadow of your eyelashes or the color of your lips. It felt oddly intimate, having him lean down just for you to touch his face. 

“Do I have something on my face?” You asked, referring to his gaze.

“Well, yeah, actually.”

That made the both of you laugh, pink faces mirroring each others love-sick smiles.  

“Alright, done,” you declared, finally setting the jar down for good. 

At that, you both got a look at yourselves in the mirror and burst back into laughter. Something about your laugh was contagious, and having found the same about him, it was hard to stop once you’d start.

“Oh, I should’ve given you a headband so your hair doesn’t get in it,” You remembered when you’d finally caught your breath, “hold on.”

In less than a couple seconds you disappeared from the bathroom and came back, a headband in your grip, though Logan couldn’t actually see what it looked like. He let you slip it on his head anyway, his smile dropping to a feigned scowl when he got a look in the mirror at the cat ears that stuck up from either side.

“You don’t like it, kitty?”

You were laughing and he shook his head, taking another look at his reflection, “the things I do for you, girl…”

He kept the thing on anyway, following you to crash on the bed and watch some tv while you waited to rinse your faces. You flipped through a couple of channels and settled on some drama series just to kill time. 

While you did that, Logan couldn’t rip his eyes from you every few minutes; the way the shirt fit, your bare legs, the fact that he could see now from where he sat that you weren’t wearing a bra under his shirt. It was almost too much and he found himself gnawing at his lip again. 

When you’d rinsed your faces and gotten ready for bed, the time came for you both to decide how the sleeping arrangement was gonna work. 

“So, maybe, like, a pillow wall?”

Your raised your eyebrows at Logan’s suggestion, the both of you stood facing the end of the bed. 

“What, you think I’m gonna spoon you in your sleep?”

“I mean, with me in the same bed? I don’t think you could help yourself, bub,” he teased, feigning confidence to disguise the fact that it was probably him who would be the one to end up spooning you. 

“Yeah, I’m just dying to rip your clothes off,” you said sarcastically, shaking your head and deciding to just tuck yourself in on a side and call it a night. You sighed into the mattress when you landed on it, terribly aware of how much you now really were dying to indeed rip his clothes off.

He followed suit, laying next to you and clicking the flimsy lamp on the bedside table so that you were both in the dark. You were both turned from each other, backs almost touching with how close you had to lay. You watched the tree branches from outside cast shadows on the wall in the moonlight, too lost in thought to close your eyes.

Just because Logan was thinking about you in ways that friends don’t really think about each other doesn’t mean he likes you in that way, you’d told yourself. It was not the same as an outright confession - you’d been poking around where you shouldn’t have -  but it still stood at the front of your mind, nonetheless.

You pulled the comforter up to your chin, tucking it around you as much as you could. It was cold in the room, something you both only noticed the longer you’d been there. You didn’t even realize you were shivering until you heard Logan’s voice say your name softly.

“You cold?”

He was already turning himself towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Very. Is the heat broken?”

He stood up and shuffled to the knob on the wall for the temperature. Fiddling with it for a second in the low light, he sighed and situated himself back into bed.

“I think it is. It’s the highest it can go and it’s freezing in here.”

You turned your face into your pillow and groaned.

“Put on some extra clothes,” he offered his suggestion, pulling the blanket up over himself as well. 

“I don’t have any, that’s why I had to borrow yours,” you reminded him, turning back to finally look at him again.

He knew it wasn’t a smart idea that had crossed his mind but Logan spoke anyway.

“C’mere,” he lifted his arms under the blanket and made room for you in front of him.

You looked at him, then the spot he wanted you to lay, and back to him again.

“Oh, so you’re the one dying to rip my clothes off, I see,” you teased and he shook his head.

“Princess, you can take it or leave it, but you know you’ll freeze,” he pointed out, a cocky smile now adorning his face.

Princess. That was new. 

You studied him intently for a second before eventually giving in, situating yourself to be the little spoon as he wrapped his arms around your middle and held your back to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat against you, the inhale and exhale of his lungs, the way his skin was so damn warm even in a freezing cold room. 

“That better?”

His voice was inches from your ear and you couldn’t help the shiver it sent down your spine, something you prayed he would believe was from the cold. You nodded, hesitantly resting your hands and arms over his. You would’ve hated to admit it, but it was so nice to just be held again. 

“Can I ask you something? And I mean, you can tell me to fuck off,” Logan spoke lowly, afraid he was trying to tip toe around land mines.

You remained quiet but nodded for him to continue, absentmindedly tracing little shapes with your fingers onto his arm.

“What happened with that Danny kid?”

You were surpised to hear his name at all, nevermind in Logan’s dismissive tone. Even the way he called him ‘kid’ seemed mildly condescending to your ex-boyfriend , acting like even saying his name was an annoyance. 

“Well, I can give you the short and sweet version,” you began your response, turning your head a little to look back at him. Christ, he had definitely never been this close.

“Shoot,” he responded, loosening his grip on you a bit so he could lean back and look at you when you spoke, really look at you. There were many things to like about Logan, but his ability to give you his undivided attention as you spoke was among your favorite things about him. You hadn’t caught on, of course, that he only really did that with you.

You sighed, drawing in a long breath and trying your best to spit out the story. It wasn’t a fresh wound but every time you tried to come clean about it was like salt being rubbed in.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, you know,” he spoke again honestly, noticing how quickly your demeanor changed.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you began gnawing at your lower lip, “He…we went out one night with everybody, probably only a couple weeks before you came back here. It was fun, except for the moments where our waitress would come by.”

You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. It was almost funny now. 

Logan waited patiently for you to continue, already suspecting what you were about to tell him.

“Every time she came to the table, he wouldn’t even look at me, like I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it but Ororo told me she saw him slip a piece of paper into her apron, I guess it must have been his number.”

He could hear your voice begin to break and he held you a little tighter, reaching a hand to stroke your hair.

“He’s a dick,” he added, scowling. 

“Yeah, but oh, man, does it get worse. I’m trying to call him one night when he hasn’t come back, basically blowing up his phone to be sure he’s alive, right?”

He nodded, already mesmerized with the way you told stories, no matter what about.

“About the fourth or fifth time I call, it’s finally picked up, except Danny isn’t on the other end. I recognized the waitress’s voice. I knew then, you know, what had happened but I just didn’t want to believe it, so I asked what the hell she was doing with him. I shouldn’t have asked that. She did not hold back on dirty details.”

You tried your best to joke around but your voice still felt small, shrunken by the humiliation of having your heart ripped out of you. Love was fucking embarrassing at just about every stage, but especially if it didn’t work out like you’d hoped. It could make even the wisest man an absolute fool.

“I could smash that kid’s face, you know. I’m just sayin’.”

You broke into a giggle when Logan spoke, “I know. What, you’re gonna start some fight over me? You only hate him because I hate him.”

“Nah,” he began, arms still around you and his voice almost mumbled into your hair, “I hate him ‘cause he’s annoying as shit, but mostly because of what he did to you.”

“You know,” you started, wiping away a tear that had fallen on your cheek but still keeping a joking tone, “you’re probably the nicest boyfriend I’ve ever had and you’re not even my boyfriend.”

When he didn’t respond after a second, you turned your body a bit to look at him. His arm was propped up to support his head and he was staring down at you, looking lost in thought. You both stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like minutes rather than seconds.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, looking to the wall behind him, “that was - I probably made that weird.”

You chuckled nervously but he kept his relaxed expression, smiling slightly when he heard your laugh.

“No, you didn’t,” he said lowly, moving the hand he had around you to push some of your hair from your face.

Your heart was beating as fast as it possibly could and there was no way he could have missed it. 

“If I’m the nicest, you must’ve dated some shit guys,” he added with a smirk, making you laugh. 

“That is true,” you admitted, “but I mean it. You’re a sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” he responded almost immediately, shaking his head.

“You are,” you insisted, “you’re a big softie.”

“Only for you.”

You waited for him to break into a laugh, tell you he was sarcastic, but he only kept his eyes to yours with what looked like an almost adoring gaze.

“For me?” 

Your voice came out almost as a whisper.

“Uh-huh. I’d do anything for you, you know.”

He only broke his eyes from yours to admire your features in the light from the moon. His voice practically made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Your stomach was twisting and tying itself into knots already but when he moved his hand to cup your cheek, you could’ve melted right into his touch.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Logan’s words came out almost in an exhale, like a sigh of relief. Your mouth fell open a little in surprise and you raised your eyebrows.

“Me?”

“Who else would I be talking to right now, princess?”

You laughed a little, unable to stop your wide smile when he lovingly stroked his thumb across your cheek.

“I think you’re handsome.”

It came out quick and you bit your bottom lip to stop your smile, your face probably blushed like a rose.

You’d never seen Logan smile so wide.

“Really?”

“How come you sound so surprised? You’ve probably been told that millions of times in your life,” you said honestly.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but I always wanted to hear it from you.”

“Why?”

You were still nervous as all hell. This was going somewhere, you just weren’t sure exactly where.

Your noses were maybe inches apart, so close that you could feel his breath on your face.

“I like you. I think about you…a lot.”

The things you’d seen Logan imagining flashed in your mind, feeding a fueling fire in the pit of your stomach. 

You couldn’t let anything else happen if you weren’t honest.

“Do you…do you remember way earlier this morning, i was driving and you were lookin’ at me and I kept asking why?”

He nodded and furrowed his eyebrows a bit.

“And then, earlier in the bathroom, when I was washing my face…” you continued, taking a deep breath, “I really shouldn’t have, but I - I kind of got in your head a bit, just because I was curious -“

“You read my mind?”

You expected a furious tone, for him to roll over and never be nearly as close to you again, but none of that was happening. Instead, that stupid smug smile was still on his face. 

“Yeah. Look, Logan, I’m really sorry -“

“What’d you see? ‘Cause if it was nothing interesting, I don’t think you’d be telling me.”

You swallowed hard. 

“Well…do you remember what you were thinking about?”

You watched him take a second to think back, gears turning. His eyes widened when he seemed to remember exactly where it was he’d let his mind wander to when he was staring at you. A smile crept onto his face and he tucked his lower lip beneath his teeth.

“Maybe. Do you wanna remind me?” he muttered.

His touch on you felt hotter than ever, like it could burn. 

“Was it something like this?” He spoke again before you could answer, moving his hand just under the hem of your shirt - his shirt, really - to ghost his fingers over your hip.

You inhaled sharply at the warm touch of his hand.

“L-Logan,” you stuttered as his hand finally did grip you, not hard, but enough to make your lower stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm? What, pretty girl?”

He knew every button of yours to push at this point. He seemed determined to make you just as desperate for him as he was for you.

His hand snaked up further to your waist, then around your back to bring you even closer to him.

You were still speechless, hesitantly moving your arms to wrap around his neck.

That was all he needed to finally press his lips to yours, tangling his hands in your hair to push you even further into him. It was sweet and soft, two words not often used to describe anything with Logan. He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough of you, still - like you’d disappear the second it was over.

“Wanted you since I first saw you, you know that?” He finally broke the kiss to whisper against your lips.

“Me too,” you replied honestly, “I was just scared after all that shit I had to go through. I didn’t want to have to do it all over again.”

“You won’t,” he said quickly, sweetly kissing your forehead and cheek, “I’d never do any of that to you. Any guy who could is a damn moron.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the both of you lost in the color of each other's eyes.

“I want to treat you right, princess, like you deserve,” he spoke again, moving a strand of hair from your face.

You swallowed hard. He didn’t just want your body, he wanted you.

“Yeah?” was all you could mutter out, your own heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, “you need someone who can take care of you like he couldn’t. I think you want me to, with the way your heart is beating like crazy.”

He had such a smug smile on his face and yours was blushed with mild embarrassment. You totally forgot he was able to pick up things like that with his heightened senses. 

“Well, how are you gonna take care of me?”,there was a teasing tone in your voice, one that was already making him half-hard in his gray sweatpants. Maybe it should’ve been embarrassing, but it didn’t take much from you at all for him to feel that way. 

“I wanna make you feel good,” he exhaled, combing his fingers through your hair,  “can I do that, baby?”

The nicknames he was using weren’t any help to extinguish the growing feeling in your lower stomach.

You nodded, breathing fast. 

“Please, Logan - “ you begged, using your arms around his neck to pull him down even closer to you and reconnect your lips.

“Like it when you beg,” he muttered in between kissing you again, “like it when you say my name like that.”

With one arm around your back to hold you close, his other arm slowly inched up the hem of your shirt, up your stomach and right to the soft flesh of the bottom of your breast.

He was going to ask if it was alright to move any further, but before he could even break away to ask, your hand was over his, nudging it further up until he had a handful of you. You moaned into the kiss, giving perfect access to Logan to slip his tongue between your lips. His toying and pinching of your nipples was enough to have you already soaked through your panties and probably your pajamas shorts, too.

“Someone’s a little eager, huh?” He muttered into your jaw as he dragged his kisses down your neck.

You only hummed in response, too lost in the feeling of him licking and sucking at your neck to think of a retort. 

Both his hands came around to the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?”

You nodded, immediately sitting up to let him lift the shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor.

“Fuck,” he choked out at the sight of your bare chest, wasting no time as he came down to suck and lick the newly exposed skin.

“Thought about this all the time,” he mumbled against your skin, “you’re more perfect than I imagined.”

You were still blushing at his praise, sinking into the feeling of him in all your senses. The sound of his voice, the way his lips tasted, how his hands dragged along your skin in a way that covered you in goosebumps - it was better than any kind of day dream you’d had about him.

“ You - ah”, you tried to speak, cut off by the feeling of Logan gripping your thighs to gently spread them apart, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against the place you wanted them the most.

He planted kisses from your chest all the way down to the waistband of your shorts, looking up at you know with his arms hooked around your thighs.

Understanding exactly why he was there, you combed your fingers through his hair on either side of his head.

“”Eat me out,” you demanded boldly, confidence only growing when you saw Logan’s surprised eyes and mischievous smile, “please.”

“Oh, so Princess likes giving orders, huh?” He replied, absolutely spurred on by the way you took control for a second. He liked pulling moans out of you but the idea of you using him for your pleasure was undeniably hot and he’d let you if you asked him.

Logan hooked his fingers through your shorts and panties, catching a glimpse at the wet spot of fabric between your legs.

“Christ, you want me that bad? You’re soaked, honey,” he cooed, his hot breath fanning your lower stomach. 

“Wanted you that bad for a while, “ you panted, “jus’ want you - only you.”

“You’ve got me, sweetheart,” he was smiling with his lower lip tucked beneath his teeth, finally using his grip on your shorts and panties to pull them down and throw them somewhere in one quick motion.

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped at the feeling of your wet heat being exposed, so warm that the air almost felt cold. 

“Fuck,” Logan groaned, gaping at the soaked mess between your thighs,”I’ve been dreaming about the way your pussy tastes for weeks.”

His filthy words had you arching your back and pushing your hips towards him, desperate for some kind of relief. You finally felt him plant a wet, soft kiss onto your lips, using his thumbs to open them up and lick from your hole to your clit.

That had you moaning his name, chest heaving as he continued to flick his tongue and keep you on his face with the hold he had on your thighs.

He was lapping up every part of you he could get, burying his nose into your pussy when he slid his tongue to the entrance of your body.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your grip in his hair tightening, “Fuck, fuck -“

He hummed in satisfaction, sending vibrations through you that only made you squirm even more against his face.

You almost whined when he pulled his tongue out of you, changing into a loud moan when two of his fingers replaced his tongue. He continued sucking and licking at your sensitive bundle of nerves, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Every time he pushed them into you again, he curled his fingers to meet the spot within you that had you tugging his hair even harder. He growled when you did that, animalistic and desperate to make you fall apart for him. 

“That feel good, Princess? Fuck - “ he mumbled against your pussy between working his mouth on you, “taste so fucking good.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes from his face, watching the way his head bobbed and his nose pushed into you. His hair was a mess that you pushed back to look into his eyes. There was something that turned you on about his gaze unwavering from yours while he continued to fuck you with his fingers like you’ve never felt before. He increased the speed of his movements, his eyes never leaving your face. You were unable to control the noises he pulled out of you, chanting his name like a prayer as you felt your climax building in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m - I’m -“, you tried to warn him.

“I know, baby. I can feel the way you’re squeezing my fingers. Come on, sweetheart, give it to me,” he groaned, desperate to have you cum into his mouth and on his face.

Within seconds of hearing his filthy encouragement, the tension in your stomach released and you squeezed your eyes shut, seeing stars as he continued to work you through your orgasm. 

Starting to come down, you became sensitive and attempted to push Logan’s head away, only for him to latch his lips onto you again. 

“I - ah, Logan, ‘s too - too much,” you gasped.

“One more, sweetheart. Think you got it in you?” His chin, mouth and tip of his nose were wet and shiny with your release. He ate you like a fucking animal, in the best way possible.

A choked noise came from your throat, your eyes trained on him with your eyebrows raised. You’d never had someone even attempt to make you finish more than once.

You nodded vigorously, Logan immediately burying his face back into your sensitive pussy. It was probably seconds before the familiar euphoria hit you again, moaning and gasping his name.

“Fuck, please let me do that all the time,” he huffed, licking his lips to savor the taste of you.

You nodded, sitting up and reaching for his beater to pull him up to you. He did as you wanted, kneeling between your legs and tugging the garment over his head and tossing it. You marveled at the sculpt of his body, running your hands up his arms, his chest, and down his abs. 

“You sure you want this, pretty girl?” 

He asked to be sure you were comfortable, of course, but you knew the double meaning of his question. Things wouldn’t be the same after this, they never could be again. 

“I need you,” you whimpered, kissing down along his jaw.

He sighed softly, reluctantly moving off the bed momentarily to strip himself of his sweatpants and boxers.

Your mouth fell open a little at the sight of him, bigger than you’ve ever seen and already leaking from the tip.

“Shit, you’re huge,” you nervously chuckled, gnawing on your lip.

He smiled, crawling on the bed again to hover over you.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he cooed, kissing down your neck again, “I’m not gonna hurt you, I’ll go slow. You tell me to stop if it hurts, okay?”

You could’ve cried at the sweet tone of his voice if the position you were in wasn’t so vulgar. You nodded in agreement and watched him line himself up with your entrance, tentatively pushing the head of his cock into you. He sighed into your neck, grunting when you hooked your legs around his waist to push him further into you.

“Does that hurt?” He asked, coming up to look at your face.

Your eyes were squeezed shut and eyebrows furrowed, your mouth open to let out small gasps and whimpers, “a little, but it’s good.”

That made his hips twitch and push further, stretching you out with a fulfilling sting.

“Ah - “ you choked out a noise as he filled you completely, bottoming out. You watched his eyes fluttered close and his nostrils flared like he was trying to hold back in fear of hurting you.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, your fingers finding a place in his hair again, “you fill me so good.”

“Never could’ve guessed you had such a filthy mouth, princess,” he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I never would’ve guessed you wanted my filthy mouth,” you retorted, your teasing smile wiped off your face when his pace suddenly quickened. 

“I wanted that, wanted your pussy - “ he grunted, “you feel so much better than my fucking hand.”

That made you chuckle a bit, stopping when he lightly bit the soft skin on your neck.

“God, Logan,” you moaned, raking your fingernails down his back.

He groaned loudly at the feeling, his eyes really rolling back into his head.

“Mm, never would’ve guessed you had a thing for pain either, by the way,” you murmured into his ear.

“I’d let you do just about anything to me,” he confessed, his hot breath in your ear.

You tugged his hair again, admiring the way his face contorted in pleasure every time you did.

“You like that?” You bit your lip, smiling up at him.

His face became serious, eyes never leaving yours from above you as he pounded his hips into yours. 

“Don’t go talking to me like, ‘s gonna make me finish way too early,” he huffed, looking down to watch the way he pulled back and disappeared into you.

“Really?” You thought for a moment, lowering your voice and keeping your eyes on his, “Come on, baby. Cum in me. You wanna see it drip out of me? Make a fucking mess - “ 

Your taunting was cut off when Logan leaned back on his knees, pulling your hips up with him so they were angled to meet him on his lap. He wasted no time pounding into you, filling the room with sounds of your grunting and moaning and the slap of skin on skin.

“You want it that bad? You’re gonna get it, sweetheart,” he groaned animalistically, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

You tilted your head back, nearly drooling at the way he drilled into you at a new angle.

“ ‘m gonna cum,“ you warned again, “Logan-“

“Come on, babe, I wanna feel it - wanna feel you cum on me,” he panted, gritting his teeth in an attempt to keep himself at the devastating pace.

In a couple more strokes, he had you nearly screaming his name, legs shaking around him as you felt the euphoric feeling wash over you. The feeling of you pulsing and clenching around him was enough to send Logan over the edge, leaning forward so he could kiss you as he spilled ropes of his cum inside of you.

You both laid still for a moment, catching your breath.

“That was…,” you paused, thinking of the right word to describe what had happened, “the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Logan moved his face from the crook of your neck, a wide smile on his face. His hair was a mess and his skin was sticky with sweat.

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he sighed, gently moving to pull out of you.

“Wait - “ you gripped his shoulder gently, keeping him in place, “can you…can you stay. Inside me, I mean.”

He raised his eyebrows, obliging your request and peppering kisses on your cheeks and forehead.

“Whatever you want, princess. I don’t think I mind stayin’ anyway.”

You giggled sweetly, trying your best to fix his hair. A thought popped into your mind, one you hadn’t even considered before you and Logan had gotten in bed.

“Is this - like, a one time thing? Because - “

“God, no,” he shook his head, admiring your features, “I mean, unless you wanted it to be, I guess, but -

You mirrored his actions, “No, no - I want you. Definitely sure that I want you.”

He planted a kiss to your forehead, running his fingers through your hair, “can I tell you somethin’, beautiful?”

“Anything, of course.”

“There was another room with two beds.”

text divider credit

A/N: I hope that wasn't god awful bc I'm not great at smut writing but anyway hope u enjoyed <3 my requests are open so if there's anything you have an idea for lmk!

[drak3n]

ELECTRICIAN!TOJI

CONTENT WARNINGS: fwb to lovers trope, fluff, smut, he fucks you in your kitchen, single dad!toji, he’s a little possessive, reader is implied to be a bit younger than him (5+years)

sena’s note: i was going to write mechanic!toji first but changed my mind after seeing too much of that on tumblr. tattoo artist/piercer!choso is up next!

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who was going to enjoy a saturday home with his preschooler, having told his employer specifically that he wasn’t going to take any jobs today

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who ended up getting an onslaught of calls by said employer anyway and nearly slammed his fist into his phone screen if it wasn’t for megumi sitting next to him and watching a cartoon on the tv

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who grimly pulled up to your house in his car with megumi sitting in the back, carrying a toolbox in one hand and holding megumi’s hand with the other

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI whose scowl faltered at the sight of you opening the door, looking nervous yet thankful at the same time; who couldn’t deny that your little smile tugged at his heartstrings

“i’m so sorry, sir. i wouldn’t have insisted for your employer to send someone if i had known—”

this was the fifth time in a row you’d apologized to the man while he was busy checking your outlets and wirings. he had immediately noted that the outlets you were using were burning hot, his nose picking up on a faint burning smell you were somehow oblivious of.

megumi was seated on your couch, kicking his chubby legs as he chewed on a chocolate bar you had handed him after his daddy agreed.

“it’s good that you insisted, ma’am. check this out,” his gruff voice cut you off as he beckoned you over with his finger to check behind a loose outlet in your bedroom. you gasped as you bent over, just to see a cable inside the outlet that was severely melted and had darkened in color. “that… i never plugged anything in that lately. how did that happen?”

toji set his toolbox down on the floor next to the outlet, shaking his head at how the outlets were wired in this apartment. whoever was here last, or at all, had done a shitty ass job, that was for sure. “when’s the last time you had an electrician over?”

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who gaped when you told him you never hired an electrician ever since you had moved into this place, which was a little over two years ago

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who felt bad about the state your place was in and how clueless you were, and did something he never thought he’d do — pausing when he spotted your leaking tab in the kitchen, and fixing it as well without expecting anything in exchange, earning himself a million words of gratitude

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who noticed how sweet you were to megumi, offering him snacks and talking to him about school and his friends, and who soon found out that you worked with children

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who left your place the same evening after having denied a hefty tip — something he had never done once in his life — and having gotten invited to come over for dinner next saturday along with his little boy to repay him with a homemade, nice meal =)

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who found himself coming over more often, with or without megumi, and whenever it was the latter, it ended with him being balls-deep inside of you at some point

“t—toji, r—right there! fuck, so good!”

the older, bulky man took it as a sign to dive his hips harder into your tiny body as he bent you over the kitchen counter. he could tell you had never really been satisfied by a man before. it was no wonder; men your age just couldn’t do it the way an experienced and older man like him could.

the harsh fabric of his work pants rubbed against your bare ass with every thrust, and you mewled and squealed as his thick cock hit that one spot inside of you repeatedly.

“mhm? say what, princess?” his veiny, calloused, huge hands were on either side of your head and your hole tightened embarrassingly at that. toji was a sexy man, and he fucking knew it. guys your age could never compare to who was rearranging your guts right now.

“never… never had a dick as—good as yours!” you were sobbing at this point, delirious from the pleasure he was giving you. “n—no one ever fucked me this— shit! ‘m cumming!”

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who explicitly told you he wasn’t the type to commit, that he was the type to hook up and move on; and who was first delighted that you didn’t seem to mind fucking with no strings attached either

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who soon grew displeased when he came over one day to see a shirt that was not his (it was obviously too small for his muscular built) in your room

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who never fucked you any rougher than he did on that day, and who didn’t even look into your face once

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who stopped visiting you in hopes of forgetting you, knowing it was just him thinking with his dick whenever you crossed his mind, who denied having actually grown fond of a woman’s entire being and not just her pussy

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who begrudgingly came to the realization that he couldn’t look at other women the same anymore after he met you; who would always lower his gaze when other female clients who were obviously attracted to him tried to show off their bodies or charm him, which left him cold and unaffected

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who ditched his useless pride for once and showed up in front of your door one noon to take you out properly, and not spend time in your shitty and malfunctioning apartment

[inthefallofasparrow]

Submitted by lone77

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 462/- Dispatch has officially confirmed I am now the single surviving member of Unit 77. Already knew, but whatever. Protocol states I am to join 76 or maybe those '9th Humboldt' hacks over at New Toiyabe. They better send a shuttle if they want me there. I'm not walking in this heat. For now, I'm just gonna don a ProxSuit and stare at the sun for a bit.

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 488/- Just been thinking about the last greenie we put through 'Seventh Trench'. With this Section of the unstate of Nevada being flatter than most between mountain ranges, the usual method of excavation, namely six parallel trenches in a row, is more pronounced and can be seen stretching way off across the desert to the horizon. The dig for this takes weeks to complete by several work teams within a unit. Whenever a new recruit arrives fresh from dispatch, by way of welcome, six of us take them to view the trenches, and claim we each individually dug one ourselves. Then we hand them a shovel and tell them they had until next morning to dig the seventh. Seems kinda cruel now, but as far as initiation rituals go it's pretty standard. Most of them give it their best to at least start on 'their' trench before the foreman inevitably chews them out for digging out of turn. We had a couple try to quit on the spot, which usually told us who we could trust. But the last recruit we had didn't say nothing. He just worked at it for hours. No technique about it, but he had heart, I guess. And when they do it in earnest, it's not nearly as funny. They found him collapsed from exhaustion around dawn. He was dead before they got him to the Mess tent. Don't think I ever knew his name. Didn't say a word. Pretty sure they still do it in other Sections, but that was the last greenie we put through 'Seventh Trench'.

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 491/- Spent some time at Canvas City. Traded out what I could to lighten the load. Got less than I would've liked for that amber earring I found at northern edge, but I guess it was only one of them, so I can't complain. Headed for New Toiyabe this evening. They said I could hitch a ride with Unit 79 as far as Iron Tank, but I'm on my own the rest. Just my shovel and yardstick for protection. ProxSuit's got a hole in the knee. Hoping I won't need it too much this time of year. They're made for digging, not hiking in. Wish I had a mirror. I hardly know myself.

[festivalsofmargot]

Selfless {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Follow up to Pretty Thoughts. (I tried to write in a way you could follow what’s going on without needing to read the last part though, so jump in if you’d like!) Sebastian isn’t waiting for your permission to help you with your assignments anymore. He knows what he wants, and he’s going after it. Takes place after MC meets Anne and before Seb’s final quest. Your Hogwarts house is up to you.

Word Count: ~ 1,700

Warnings: Kissing

Author’s Note: If he wanted to, he would is the fanfic lesson of the day. This one’s a bit shorter than my others, but I feel like so much more happened! I finished up this one quicker than I thought, so I’m going to be sneaky and edit here and there if I see any typos (my worst nightmare). Hope everyone’s having a good day 🙂

Songs (if interested):

Run Away to Mars - TALK

Greek Tragedy - The Wombats

Mr. Rager - Kid Cudi

The World - TeZATalks

Sebastian was lounging on a couch in the Slytherin common room, one hand behind his head, the other rubbing at his lips. He was trying to remember the feel of your mouth on his when you had kissed him in the library. He knew a memory wasn’t the most reliable thing, but he could have sworn he felt your tongue at one point. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance remembering the part where the two of you had to pull apart because you heard Madam Scribner approaching.

He was going to try to get another kiss in after the two of you would have left the library together. But something shifted in your mood and you ran off without him. He had been confuzzled about it ever since. It couldn’t have been that he was a bad kisser, he didn’t think the two of you would have stopped if you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

He had tried to catch you before you left the castle that morning, but you were nowhere to be found. He was learning fast that it wasn’t going to be easy making you his. He needed to step it up, because you were a slippery one. Just when he thought he had you in the palm of his hand, you were gone.

He decided to stop moping and take action. He shot up off the couch and went to find a few people who he was thankful were easier to find.

-

When Sebastian arrived back on campus, he was covered in scrapes and bruises, and he absolutely reeked of dirt and sweat. Merlin’s beard, was this what you did nearly every day? He needed to toughen up if he wanted to keep up with you. 

After going to find Poppy and Natty, he had asked them about everything they had planned on helping you with. He told them he would take over, lying and saying he had similar assignments. He built up quite the list: Horklumps that could only be found in caves filled with ginormous spiders, ashwinder eggs he had to find hiking in the rockiest of places, and even bogeys he had managed to knock out a troll for. The professors had no hesitancy throwing you in the deep end, did they?

He was almost worried he bit off more than he could chew, but he had managed to complete the list, making the fatigue he felt oddly satisfying.

Despite being aware of his untidy state, he headed towards the dining hall. He thanked his lucky stars he had made it back before dinner time ended. He needed to get food in him or he would faint.

A majority of the students were gone, having already gotten their fill. He began making his way to find a seat, enchanted bag in hand. But among the few students left in the dining hall, he caught sight of you. Luck was officially on his side that day, he didn’t think he would have found you at all that weekend. He headed your way, wanting to walk faster but the soreness in his legs wouldn’t allow him. 

He plopped the bag on the table, startling you. He didn’t wait for you to say anything and slumped down in the empty spot next to you, too tired to lift his legs over the bench. He leaned his elbows back on the table and let his head fall back.

After allowing himself a brief moment to finally do nothing but sit that day, he met your questioning gaze and he gestured to the bag with his chin. “Hope this helps.”

You squinted your eyes at him, trying to work out what he was talking about. 

“Go on. Open it.”

You grabbed the bag and peeked inside. It didn’t take long for you to realize it had a charm to fit what looked like a dozen large jars. Getting a closer look, you realized they were full of items you needed for your latest assignments.

“Sebastian...” A proud smile tugged at his lips at the pleasant surprise in your voice. He leaned his head back again, another wave of exhaustion hitting him.

“I told you I wanted to help you.”

“This is... amazing. I -...” You were at a loss for words, shaking your head in disbelief. “I owe you, Sebastian. Please, let me know how I can repay you.”

He glanced back at you, raising a brow. “What are you going on about? You don’t owe me a thing.”

Something warm and fuzzy formed in your chest. This was not the Sebastian you first met. What ever happened to the Slytherin who was so eager to have people in his debt?

“Then why would you - …?”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” He smirked.

You looked back down into the bag, hiding the smirk of your own that formed. “Please do.”

He loosely took your hand in his. He would have grabbed it with a firmer hold if he could, but his forearms were aching too much. “You make me nervous too.”

You looked up to return his gaze and your heart fluttered. 

“I’d do anything you’d ask of me.” The way he said it while looking deep into your eyes, as if he needed you to understand he meant it, made you want to melt. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. “Please don’t run off.”

Finding your voice, you assured with a whisper, “I won’t.” You squeezed his hand back.

He smiled, relief overwhelming him. “Now that we’ve got that settled,” he gave your hand a quick kiss. Releasing it, he swung his legs over the bench to face the mouth watering platters. “I hate to ask, but could you help me get some of the food onto my plate. I think my arms are going to fall off.”

The two of you laughed and you happily obliged.

-

“Food really does taste better after a day like this.” Sebastian sighed, dreamily thinking back on how the first bite of many had made him want to cry.

“It does. I don’t know how I’ll survive when we don’t have Hogwarts cooking to come home to.” You replied as the two of you made your way to the Slytherin common room. You were going to drop him off and then head out to do your astronomy assignment. Once again, Sebastian had offered to come with, but seeing how he was practically asleep on his feet, you pleaded for him to get washed up and straight to bed.

Standing outside of the Slytherin common room, Sebastian let out a long exhale, thinking about how close to his bed he was. Oh how he wanted to collapse onto it. He looked to you. “I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

“You will.” You smiled at him.

He smiled back and turned to make his way into the common room.

“Sebastian, wait.” You grabbed for his hand with the gentlest touch. He stopped walking and faced you again.

“Yes?”

“I know you’re tired, but...” You drifted off as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. 

Though he was exhausted, he mustered up all the energy he could to kiss you back, hoping he would catch some kind of a second wind. 

He tasted earthy and salty from the dirt and sweat that covered him. The hand that cupped your neck felt extra rough and callused then, but you didn’t care. Thinking about everything he had done for you that day, you wanted more of him. Your tongue just barely licked his bottom lip and it sent a shiver up his spine.

Truth be told, you always went a little mad when he was disheveled and sweaty like this. Whenever he needed to take off his robes and roll up his sleeves, it made you weak. He especially caught your eye after dueling matches, he would be worn out with clothes and hair disordered. You always ached to stroke his hair back into place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. He reciprocated by wrapping his arms around your lower back. He wanted to lift you off the ground but his muscles painfully screamed in protest. So he settled for just biting at your bottom lip instead, eliciting a light moan from you.

You weren’t masters of kissing yet. Still learning the ropes, the two of you could only do what felt right in the moment, be it little nips or licks here and there. Neither of you seemed to mind, however.

The echoing sounds of students chattering and making their way down the stairs stopped your kiss. He sighed into your neck, still holding you close. “We need to find better places to do this.” And with one final kiss to your jaw he pulled away.

“Probably for the best, you need to get some rest.” You told him, straightening your shirt.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” His eyelids were heavy, and you thought it was the most precious you’d ever seen him. 

“You’re adorable.” You told him with a cheeky smile you couldn’t hide.

“Oh, please never call me that again.” He rubbed roughly at his eyes, too sleepy to be that annoyed with your words.

You took subtle glances to see if anyone around you was looking your way. When you felt you were in the clear, you snuck a peck to his cheek, surprising him. “See you at breakfast.” And off you went.

He watched after you. You gave him quite the reward for his actions that day, he ought to do stuff like this more often.

Someone behind him gagged. “My word!” Sebastian, startled, turned to see Ominis with a face contorted in pure disgust. “You smell putrid!”

Sebastian could only nod in agreement. “I’m aware. Now, help me into the common room, will you? I think I’m about to collapse.”

Ominis scoffed “I am going nowhere near you.” He began towards the common room without him.

“Ominis, please, I’m not joking.”

[thescarletnargacuga]

If i may make a suggestion, human AU sickfic, maybe?

A/N: poor hoomans

THE FLU

A HUMAN AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: none

~~~

Pomni coughed into her millionth tissue. She'd been diagnosed with influenza, and nearly bedridden all week. Her throat burned with fury of a California wildfire while she could barely breathe through her runny nose. She ran a fever off and on, causing body wide aches and fatigue. She barely ate anything out of lack of appetite, not helping her energy levels.

Thankfully, she had a TV in her room and her phone so she had all the entertainment in the world at her fingertips. She binged show after show while she struggled to sleep.

Caine insisted she have the master bedroom to herself while sick. He wasn't worried about exposure, but her coughing was keeping him up at night with worry so he slept on the couch in the living room so he could get sleep and go to work. He texted her often about how she was doing, did she need anything while he was out, telling her when he would be home, etc.

Bubble could sense that his human was not okay and would spend the entire day chilling with her in bed. It's the calmest he's ever been. When he wasn't chewing on his toy, he was cuddling with Pomni and getting so many pets. It was the best.

Pomni laid against her high wedge pillow, watching her shows when Caine came in. He was still in his work suit, carrying some tea and a large shopping bag. "Hello, my dear. Did you get much rest today?"

"Meh...kind of." Pomni grumbled, her voice was rough from all the coughing. "Bubble and I have been binging Bridgerton. Have you seen it? It's pretty good."

"Heard of it, but haven't seen it myself." Caine set the hot cup of tea on the nightstand next to Pomni, shuffling a few pill bottles and cough drops out of the way. "Made you some chamomile tea. I added that vitamin C powder we got from the pharmacy, help your immune system a bit."

"Thank you." Pomni smiled through the fatigue. "What's in the bag?"

"I bought you a few things." He pulled out a big box of tissues. "You've been going through these by the box, so I got the biggest one they sold."

Pomni almost laughed. "Only one?"

"Nope. There are sixteen more in the hallway closet."

"I stand corrected."

"I also got," Caine pulled out another big box. "This jumbo pack of snack cakes. Apple cinnamon, your favorite."

"Aw, Caine, thank-"

"BUT WAIT! There's more! I got this really nice smelling massage oil. I can rub out those sore spots for you, if you'll let me." He winked.

Pomni laughed, coughing a little. "Only if you promise to just give me a back rub. I don't have the energy for hanky panky."

"Promise, love. Oh!" He set the bottle of oil in Pomni's lap with the snack box. "I also found this mini gator plush! Look at 'im!" He put a hand sized sitting gator plush in Pomni's lap.

She cooed over the little gator. "Oh my god, he's so cute!"

"Smell him! He's scented! Pineapple and Lime, I believe." Caine double checked the tag.

"Caine... I don't have a sense of smell right now."

"Oh yeah, well you can smell them later, because I have something else for you!"

"How many things do you have in that magician's bag of yours??" She was smiling more than she had all week. He was being silly for her sake and she loved him for it.

"Just one more thing." Caine searched the bag but I was empty. "Huh...that's strange. Where did I put it?" He felt his various suit pockets.

"What did you lose?"

"Oh wait, silly me. It wouldn't fit in the bag."

Pomni's eyes widened. "Caine...what did you buy?"

"It doesn't have a price tag." He gave Pomni a cheeky smile and kissed her forehead. "It's all my love for you."

"You're such a dork. I love you." She hugged him.

"I love you more. More and more each day." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm gonna need you to get better soon. I miss kissing those lips of yours."

"I'm working on it. Flu season is rough this year. Wanna watch Bridgerton with me?"

"Absolutely." Caine started changing into more casual clothes.

Pomni caught Bubble trying to sneak a bite at her new Gummy Gator plush. She snatched it away. "No! Destroy your own toys. This one's mine."

Bubble whined and begged for the plush, despite the fact that his own toy was literally right next to him. Pomni distracted him with belly rubs and he forgot all about the new plush.

After Caine was changed and grabbed his own drink, he joined Pomni on the bed and settled to watch TV. He held her close with an arm over her shoulders. She leaned on him but had to blow her nose often to not drip nose goo on him.

Despite Pomni being sick, being with her and relaxing after a long day was the best thing in the world to Caine.

[ohbo-ohno]

I'm gripping the bars of my cage desperately, I'm chewing at the bars, begging, pleading for more zombie ghoap x reader au.

zombie ghoap x reader au coming right up chef 🫡

btw this is super similar to charliemwrites' jaw dropping ghoap x reader "the (scottish) cabin in the woods" so you need to go read that immediately (and leave a nice comment because charlie rocks)

cw for noncon puppyplay below the cut

i was talking to ceilidh a tiny bit about this earlier, and i think that johnny and reader met in like a cannibal cult kinda thing. very much so like that episode of TLOU, yknow? they both think they've found a little commune safe haven, but it very quickly becomes clear that that's not the case.

anyways, they end up trying to get out together when they realize what's going on, and have to kill a few of the cult members :/ they've been "stuck together" ever since

they threaten to leave the other for dead (or kill them in the middle of the night) constantly. it hasn't happened yet, obviously, but boy oh boy do both of them bring it up nonstop. they act like they hate each other, but honestly they just need to fuck

but they're sorta stuck together now. you're better off paired up with someone than on your own, that's something they both learned pre-cult fiasco. and, really, they don't dislike each other nearly as much as you might think based on the way they gripe

enter ghost. he spots these two survivors wandering through the forest, one injured and both filthy, and basically thinks to himself "hm. could be good in home entertainment"

(here's the deal with puppyplay like this - it's absurd, and we're just going with it. alright??? just WORK with me here)

if you didn't see, i put in the tags of the original post "#btw - he takes you home then chains you both up outside and says something like “this is where dogs stay” :/#dont worry you're perfectly safe (he has a high fence keeping zombies out) but he likes to hear how scared you get when you're out there all#you're both quite well behaved when he lets you in for dinner the next night &lt;3#he only has to scold you once when you both complain about being made to eat while kneeling on the floor next to him"

you're probably both "behaving" because you don't want him to. you know. fucking KILL YOU. but this is also a zombie apocalypse au, so you're both totally feral too. and this is an apocalypse ghost too, which means he's probably way harsher and way rougher around the edges than he even is in canon

anyways i think soap and reader here are more likely to be like "lets wait this out and try to escape when he's not expecting it" except they're like... really bad at trying to play along

ANYWAYS!!!! ghost takes you two back to his compound, ties the both of you up outside for the night. he wraps soap's ankle first, gives him a stern command to stay off of it, and goes back inside like everything is normal. he watches you two over the camera while planning out how he'll build some outdoor kennels for the two of you

you're both cold and tired and hungry and scared the next morning, so it doesn't take much coaxing on his part to get you inside. it takes a lot more coaxing to keep you two on your knees :/

honestly johnny's ankle is so fucked that it's almost a relief to keep pressure off of it (even if it means crawling around on the floor like an animal) but you care a hell of a lot more. ghost threatens to break your ankles before you finally listen :/

he ties the leashes to your wrists, to keep you both out of trouble as much as he can. it's not like either of you are eager to go very far - his house is warm and you're both chilled to the bone from your night outisde

anyways. that's all i've got like, linearly. but i can offer some random little tidbits about their lives after

ghost makes you both eat from the floor. he gives you plates (no silverware) at first and lets you use your hands, and gradually works the two of you up to eating from bowls with just your mouths

you and johnny bicker constantly and simon frequently makes the two of you kiss to make up :( forces you to make out with each other while he smokes a cigarette and enjoys the show. no matter how mad you are, you both end up needy and humping the air when he finally lets you stop

he tries to have you two sleep in the same crate, but it does not go well. ghost very quickly realizes that you two will try to tear each other's throats out if forced that closely together for an entire night

sometimes one of you will try to get the other in trouble. there's one particular night where you trick johnny into misbehaving and he's stuck in the outside kennel all night - but it rains. and every time you glance out the window you see how sad and cold he looks :((( ghost lets you love on him the next morning, and soap is more than eager for a bit of comfort after such a miserable night

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Four: Sirius

Safehouse Somewhere in Athens

Athens, Greece

No one could know, but Sirius was fairly certain he was going insane. He dreamed of Remus. He glimpsed him in dark, dreamscape spaces and then in London. All of their familiar spots. But he was always turning a corner, or walking in front of Sirius who couldn’t seem to reach forward. His name always stuck in Sirius’ throat.

The dark safe house ceiling was no comfort when Sirius jolted himself away for the hundredth time.

“Do you ever wonder…” Remus had begun that sentence more than a year ago, and Sirius still believed that he wouldn’t have been able to guess what he was about to say.

They had been in London, at George’s, on their second beers and making their way through their chip wrappings. Some happy Irish song was bouncing around the shop, but Remus’ expression had been solemn. He’d chewed slowly, staring out the steamed up window. The fog made his brown eyes look like milk poured into coffee.

“What?” Sirius had prompted, knocking the necks of their bottles together.

He remembered being thrilled to have Remus all to himself this late into the night. He didn’t live near Sirius, but near his parents and his little brother, Julian. Sirius didn’t like thinking of them. He’d tried to look in a few times, but seeing ten-year-old Julian’s face had been nearly as horrible as watching Remus get dragged away. It’s my fault, he’d wanted to say. He’d wanted to beg for Julian’s forgiveness and also tell him that he didn’t deserve it, all at the same time.

“George,” Remus had called. “Can you turn this one up?”

The song was already loud, but George shrugged and dialed it up three more notches. Sirius’ neck prickled. He was worried about listening bugs.

Remus had looked around George’s fish shop before leaning a little closer. Freckles, Sirius always thought. Freckles like stars. “Do you ever wonder about them?”

Them. It was the word for Salazar.

“Wonder,” Sirius had repeated. “What do you mean?”

Remus pressed his lips together.

“Re.” Sirius shook his head. “Talk to me—”

Remus’ phone had started to ring. Sirius had caught a quick glimpse of the name before Remus had excused himself to take it outside.

Pascal.

The memory faded when James, laying beside him, reached over at patted his shoulder comfortingly.

Sirius sighed. “How did you know I was awake?”

“You breathe differently.”

“You’re just used to watching Harry sleep.”

“Maybe,” James said. “Maybe you need a little bit of babying, too, to make up for lost time.”

Sirius snorted. James knew about his parents. Cold, passionate people with their ideas in all the wrong places.

“Leo’s on watch?” Sirius asked.

“Yep. Think we can teach Finn a few tricks so we can all get more sleep?”

“Not a chance.”

James laughed softly. His phone briefly lit up the darkness as he checked the time and then groaned. “You’re right, but damn. We should be asleep while we can. You change over at dawn.”

“Honestly, I think I’ll be glad for the distraction.”

“What, you’re own head getting to you? You? Wow, I never would have guessed that.”

Sirius reached out blindly and whacked him in the chest. James hit him back, but they settled again. He tried to match his breathing to James to see if he’d noticed and received another pat.

“It’s something with their memory.” Sirius had to force the words out.

“Yeah.” James swallowed audibly in the dark. “I think so.”

“I don’t…” Sirius shook his head. “They’re killed—we saw them die, and then they show up and—”

Did Remus not know him? Sirius felt sick thinking of it. He tried to put himself in Finn’s shoes, who he’d left curled on his side with all of his clothes on, staring at the brick wall through his bedroom window. If they found Remus—or, like Logan, let Remus find them, would Remus not recognize him? Did he even know his own name?

“We saw them shot,” James said. “We never…We assumed they were dead. Their trackers went offline, we thought their bodies got thrown over—”

“What if whoever took them disabled the trackers?”

“We need to know for sure who we were dealing with six months ago at Sounion,” James said. “Black market and weapon dealing isn’t enough. We need names.”

Sirius could see the three faces they’d managed to track. The woman, and the two men—brothers, most likely.

“Why did Salazar call off the mission after we lost Lo and Re?” James hit the mattress with a harsh palm. “That’s what I can’t fucking wrap my head around. Why not get those fuckers?”

Do you ever wonder about them?

Sirius didn’t know how to say it to James. Had Remus meant Salazar? He’d refused to speak about it after the fact. But now Salazar wanted Remus shot on sight. He thought of whose safe house they were in, and whether it was really safe at all.

“I never asked before,” James continued. “Because I didn’t think it was any of my business…” Sirius knew what was coming when James turned towards him in the dark. “But did—”

“No,” Sirius said to the dark ceiling.

“You didn’t even hear my question” James asked.

Sirius reached out and grabbed James’ wrist, tapping twice on its inside. Their own code. Someone might be listening. He made something up and knew James would go along. “He wins enough money off me, he kills at poker.”

“That he does,” James replied without a beat, but he was tensed beside him. A moment later, he was pushing himself up. Dawn was beginning to make a faint orange line across the bedroom war, coming in through the kitchen.

“C’mon,” James said. “They’ll be setting up the markets. Leo’s on watch. Let’s bring him coffee and wake up our little passenger and go over that phone call radius.”

Sirius looked up at him in the dim light. “Logan always did like leaving at dawn.”

He was reluctant to rouse Finn. The room was freezing. They would have to do something about that. Finn’s suitcase was open on the floor and clothes half spilled out. There was no room for any sort of dresser—or maybe just no care for it. No one stayed long enough, perhaps.

“I’ll do it.”

Sirius turned to find Leo standing behind him. He looked tired, and cold. He was holding a cup of the coffee that James had made—way too strong.

Leo rolled his eyes a little at Sirius’ expression, then shouldered past him. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“Really?” Sirius said. “I’d be a mess.”

He already was a mess. It had the intended effect, making Leo pause to look at him before settling on the edge of Finn’s bed.

“Finn,” Leo said gently. “Are you awake?”

“Are you awake?”

Sirius drew in a slow breath before opening his eyes. If anyone had told him, upon entering the academy, that his roommate would be a fucking talkative insomniac, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

“I am now.”

Remus Lupin’s silhouette pushed up from his cot across the small room. “Are you hungry?”

Sirius could still see him there, half-silhouette and half moonlight. He hadn’t known that he would be entranced, for a long time, by how handsome he thought Remus Lupin was. He’d thought that from the very beginning.

“Sure. I’m hungry.”

Sirius went back into the kitchen. He didn’t want to watch this part. He didn’t want to watch Finn wake up and remember.

James looked at him. He was in his own dark, sleek winter jacket, had a black beanie pulled low, and his contacts in. He cupped his mug close to his chin and watched Sirius add milk to his own—how Remus took it. Sirius looked back at him once he was holding his own mug, too.

James’ single arched brow said all he needed to. Of course Salazar is listening. He darted his eyes around the room. This is their safe house.

Sirius nodded, but he didn’t know how to communicate, Remus was worried about something and I didn’t realize it soon enough in just one glance. He didn’t even know how to say it to himself. Salazar had been a part of their lives for the last decade. They’d got through training together, him, Remus, and James. And then had come Logan and Finn, two years later, and then, finally, Leo. Malfoy and the other higher-ups were old-fashioned and crude, but the work they did was important. Necessary. They were protectors.

James just sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “I miss her grilled cheese.” Lily. He wouldn’t give anyone else who might be listening a name. Just like how, for Logan, Finn was always Red, or Rouge.

What would Sirius have called Remus, if he were a civilian? If he weren’t always at his side. If they weren’t always in danger together. Would that have been better? Remus waiting at home for him? Sirius, waiting at home for Remus? He didn’t think so. He preferred Remus in his sightline. He preferred the option of diving in front of a bullet for him. Only distance prevented him from protecting Remus.

He should never have let Remus go down those cliffs without him.

James cleared his throat to get his attention. He had written something down on a napkin. In his scratchy handwriting,

TELL ME.

Sirius didn’t know what he was going to say, but he looked over his shoulder where he could hear Finn and Leo’s soft voices. He wrote quickly:

R X TRUST S?

James read the words and his reaction fell over his face. He flicked his eyes up to Sirius. Didn’t trust Salazar? Honestly?

Sirius shook his head.

Why?

Sirius shrugged and shook his head again. He’d never gotten Remus to say.

Leo was about to come down the hallway, Finn on his heels. “Are we ready?” Leo called.

James was still frowning, hazel eyes worried, as he stuffed the napkin in his remaining coffee to bleed the ink away.

“We’re ready,” James said, though Sirius didn’t feel it.

[leatafandom]

Maybe Next Year  

Rating: Teen 

Word Count: 1,107

Warnings and Tags: prompt spring, Gabriel and Loki, Lokiel if you squint, I'm squinting, flowers, grief, dealing with loss, hurt/comfort, angst

Author Notes: I just had to write something for my favorite archangel but, ugh, my brain is sad, guys. I tried to make it less sad, but you know it is what it is. The muse is resisting this month. I hope you enjoy probably the only non-smutty, non-horror thing I write this month. Happy Reading.

Summary: They really need to stop meeting, but Loki couldn't help the twinge of attachment to the ancient being that shared his face, and Gabriel didn't want to let go of the last person he had that knew him.

Written for @spnarchangelweek Monday’s Prompt: Spring

Read, Maybe Next Year, Rated Teen, in full below or on my Ao3.

*note, this story (and all of my others) on Ao3 is locked for registered Ao3 users.

Maybe Next Year  

The flowers looked so different down here, the colors were so vibrant and full. Their petals were so soft and fragile. On the eve of spring, Gabriel would lay in the fields for days, just waiting, wanting to see them the moment they bloomed. The archangel was content to soak in the calls of new life as birds hatched, and little ones began to crawl among the rebirth of the plant life. 

The newly hidden archangel would lay still for days under the warming rays of the spring sun, soaking in the heat that had been absent all winter. After years of assuming Loki's life, it became a new tradition, one that no one questioned. As the years continued to pass, Gabriel continued to solemnly bear witness to the arrival of spring. 

The calm of witnessing life return to the thawing world, offering peace to his turbulent grace. As he got more used to the world of pagans and man, a place displaying the natural beauty of the world his Father had made became a place he could always be found, at least once a year. After a while, it became the only time Loki would track him down, knowing the archangel couldn't be moved until the last of the wildflowers were in full bloom. 

“Hello handsome.”

Gabriel hummed, eyes opening to see Loki hovering over him. “One day that will get old,” he teased, squinted up at the pagan who was blocking his sun. 

“I imagine so,” the god chuckled, “but that day is not today,” he added as he crouched by the archangel's head. “I brought you honey cakes.” 

Gabriel smiled, pushing away the lingering sadness within him at the god's appearance. “You always do,” he said, leaning up on his elbows, sitting up among the tall grass.

“Don't tell me I've become predictable in my hiding,” Loki chuckled, splitting the parcel with him. He gave the archangel a once over before looking out over the tall grass, the forest that encroached the field to the right, and the nearly ready to bloom flowers surrounding them. “Excellent spot this year, feathers.” His gaze coasted over the cliffs and rocks to the left of the lush greens of the meadow before looking back down at the cakes. 

Gabriel released a pleased sound at the god’s approval, taking in the view as he sat up fully. “I thought so, I haven't been here in a while,” his eyes went back to the pagan he shared a face with as Loki fed him the first bite of the cake before handing him more. “I almost thought you weren't coming this year,” he said around the mouthful. 

Loki's eyes roved over the other, watching him eat so naturally and remembering when the being had hated the food of man. 

“Thought about it,” he admitted, watching Gabriel frown at him and shrugged. “Then came anyway,” he grumbled, looking away from him.

Gabriel nodded slowly in understanding, looking back down at the spongy cake, licking the crumbs from his lips. He bit back the ache in his grace at the coming loss. He felt like he had lost so much until he had found Loki, too much. The celestial took another bite as he chewed slower, savoring the taste and trying to push down the pain of losing Loki too. 

The god couldn't and wouldn't coddle him forever. 

“Maybe next year,” the celestial mumbled, looking back out across the green that would be bursting with color come morning.  

Loki nodded with him and sighed. “Maybe next year,” he agreed, though uncertainty seemed to haunt his tone. 

If Gabriel was meant to be him, they couldn't keep being together. They both knew that the archangel didn't need his guidance any longer. It made more sense to stop seeing each other. It was why they had decided to meet fewer and fewer times until they only had the spring. However, they knew that soon they wouldn't have that either. 

The day passed slowly by the immortals, neither talking but both thinking about it. Gabriel stared at the birds Raphael had loved as they flew to their nests, watching them among the trees. His lips twitched as loss ripped through his grace, remembering the paradise that had once been here. His eyes closed against it as Loki sat beside him, soaking in the sadness that radiated from the celestial as they listened to the calls of birds and the chirps of bugs around them. The pagan looked to him as the sun started to sink behind the horizon, watching as the colors of the fading sun filled the sun. Gabriel blinked, feeling the pagan's eyes on him, and offered a weak smile that Loki returned with ease. 

“Tell me then,” Loki said, studying his face on the archangel. “How is my life treating you?” He asked, kicking his boot against Gabriel's leg and breaking the silence they had fallen into.

Gabriel smiled wide, leaning against the god as he turned to watch the colors of the sky dance over the cliffs. “Fantastic,” he uttered, knowing the god wouldn't want to hear how much he still ached, how lonely he was without him, wanting to be grateful. “Thank you.” 

Loki’s smile turned coy, a humorless laugh leaving him, knowing his own face too well. 

“You really need to work on your lying.” 

Loki heaved a sigh and Gabriel hung his head. The archangel pressed his lips together, palms rubbing into his eyes as the deity wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. The pagan didn't look away from Gabriel, the archangel's smile faltering and failing as he patted his side. 

“That was atrociously angelic of you,” he added, holding the archangel tighter.  

Gabriel’s shoulders tensed and shook, and Loki held him closer. The archangel pressed his heels into his eyes, letting out a rough groan of heartache. 

“Maybe not next year?” The celestial whispered into his hands as Loki bent to press his lips to his crown.

Loki held the lonely being to him, guiding Gabriel to lay his head on his lap. His eyes rolled over the ancient being who curled his legs to his chest as he lay his head down hiding his face, before tilting his head back to watch the moon rise and shine over them. His lips twitched as he rubbed Gabriel's arm, listening to the sounds of the archangel's heartache as it joined the chorus of life that filled the crisp spring night air. 

“No,” Loki hummed, fingers interlocking with Gabriel's over the archangel's trembling chest, his other combing through his hair. “Probably not next year…”

[minawritesfanfic]

Backyard boy Part 5

Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Work count: 2.5k

Summary: After another hang out sessions with Rodrick somethings become clearer, but after hanging out with your friends things have potentially gotten murkier

Part 5

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“Ugh, I forgot how outrageous snack prices were here, popcorn and nachos be damned!” I said stuffing my mouth with a small handful of the large popcorn cradled in my arms, Rodrick just laughed at me as he nudged me with his elbow.

“Oh cheer up, we brought plenty of other snacks for cheap to make up for it.”

“I know, I know but seeing the prices rise higher and higher every time we come? I’m starting to understand why my mom’s always sighing when she pays for gas.”

Rodrick just laughed again patting my back as he shook his head, I rolled my eyes as we found our seats in the theatre. We climbed over a bunch of people before we found the perfect seats with two empty spots next to them, I grinned as I pulled Rodrick down into the seat beside me. The theater was unsurprisingly filled with people and chatter, likely due to this being one of the biggest movie releases of the year.

“Do you think they’ll make more Hunger Games movies?”

“Of course, it’s too good! I think I’ll die if they don’t, like look at this theater. I didn’t even know there were this many people in our town.” I glanced around the theater where others sat chatting excitedly waiting for the movie to begin.

“I swear there isn’t but ours is probably the only good movie theater in the area, the other ones are dingy as fuck.” I laughed at his comment but an older lady in front of us turned glaring at our profanity.

“You’re right about that I bet, my old movie theater was practically falling apart. You could rarely go there to see a movie because it was almost always closed for maintenance.” The lights in the theater dimmed and more of the pre-movie ads played.

Before long the movie began, and the speakers boomed and echoed through the theater allowing you to hear the familiar music the movie opens up with. I set my nachos on my lap before grabbing a bit of our shared popcorn, I ate slowly as I was entranced by the movie. Occasionally I glanced over at Rodrick who was watching just not nearly as enthusiastically as I was, he glanced over at me feeling me staring, and smiled before turning back to the movie as he adjusted in his seat some more. I turned away as well a bit embarrassed he caught me staring but glad it was dark so he couldn’t see the heat rising to my cheeks or the dopey grin I had.

As the movie continued on Rodrick had finished off the rest of the popcorn and abandoned the bucket on the floor, now he slumped over resting his head on top of mine as he’d fallen asleep. Thankfully he wasn’t snoring like he usually does but of course, he chose to use me as a pillow during his mid-movie nap, I just rolled my eyes and brought a hand up to ruffle his hair. I let my hand trail down to his soft acne-free cheek and then back into my lap, it still baffles me how someone who thinks soap is a recommendation has such clear skin yet I rarely do. I chew roughly on my candy as I calmed my irritation and watched the movie but my mind still drifted back to Rodrick and his beautiful, long, and curly black lashes. His chocolatey dark brown eyes his stupid straight but curly hair, the stupid all-black clothes he wears, and his silly little band that he still won’t let me hear play. I sighed dragging a hand over my face as I came to realize something I should’ve realized ages ago.

“I like Rodrick…”

★ ✮ ★

The walk out of the movie theater to Rodrick’s car was quiet, save for his occasional yawning. Normally riding with Rodrick was the most relaxing thing I could do, we’d listen to music and I’d let my arm hang out the window or prop my feet on the dashboard. Suddenly the van felt so small and the music felt quiet, all I could hear was my own heartbeat and how close Rodrick was to me.

I glanced back over at him as he pulled onto my street, his window was open so the air blew wildly behind him. His was gaze surprisingly focused on the road, I noticed for the first time how long his lashes were and the way his lips sat partially open as he focused. I hadn’t realized how long I’d been staring at him until he was suddenly looking back at me with those gorgeous brown eyes of his and that stupidly smug smirk.

“There’s either chocolate all over my face or… you’re checking me out. I know I’m hot so it’s okay, but we’re uh at your house.” He started confidently but as quickly as it came out his ego deflated as he looked away slightly embarrassed, which gave me a moment to compose myself.

“Oh no, you’ve got something on your face. Right…. Here!” I reached out to him pretending to wipe his lip before quickly flicking him on his forehead.

Rodrick flinched pulling back and glaring at me, “Ouch! You’re such a dick, how could you do that to my handsome face?!”

“It’s that same ego that made me flick you in the first place, so it’s your own fault. But thanks for the ride Rodrick, I seriously had fun hanging out today. I’ll see you Monday, yeah?” I said as I grabbed my bag off the floor of the car, I smiled at him taking another long look at him.

“Yeah yeah, I had fun too. I’ll see you Monday, don’t trip on your way out though.” He teased as he unlocked my door to which I just rolled my eyes.

I waved at him as I opened my front door and watched him pull off, I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I entered the house. My mom sat on the couch as her favorite show whilst dad lay in her lap already dozing off. She turned to look at me with a knowing look and I internally groaned anticipating what she was going to say.

“Did you and your lover boy have fun?”

“Yeah we had fun, I’m going to my room now Mom.” She just raised a brow and chuckled waving me off as she went back to her show, running her hands through Dad's hair as she did.

I shut my bedroom and rested against it, I was finally alone. Alone with my thoughts that is, I couldn’t stop the heat that rushed to my face as I processed everything from today. I have the biggest crush on my best friend and practically went on a date with him, but my biggest gripe was the fact that a boy could be so fucking pretty, maybe prettier than me. I groaned and flopped onto my bed, I grabbed one of my pillows and hugged it to my chest as I stared up at the ceiling. I wasn’t sure what to do about the fact I had a crush on Rodrick, I just hoped it wouldn’t make things different but what would happen if I ever told him how I felt?

I shook the thought from my head, it was too early to even think about confessing. Maybe this was just a fleeting crush, I needed to give it some time before I just rushed into an impulsive confession and got my heart broken. At least I should figure out if it’s a genuine crush and if he might like me back. And thus began operating ‘Win the drummer boys heart’.

★ ✮ ★

Renatta and the gang had invited me out roller skating with them, which was a blast. Reese and I were the only ones who knew how to do tricks so we spent most of the time one-uping each other or trying to do something involving the both of us, all of which just ended with us both falling on our asses way too many times. Alejandro and Renatta casually skated hand in hand chatting in front of us. Cecily and Nolan on the other hand both sucked at skating and mostly hung out at the arcade off to the side of the rink.

Skating and gaming tuckered us all out and we went over to the food court area, we all ordered differently but ended up eating off each other's plates and bowls. I glared as Nolan stole even more of nachos though I just took some of the fries that came with his burger as revenge, but beyond the food stealing sharing, we talked and talked. Well, mostly Renatta who had all of our attention as she told us about the ever-so-romantic date she went with her boyfriend who she refuses to introduce us to. They drove out and did some things in the city before coming back to eat under the stars in the field behind his house, Renatta’s eyes were practically heart-shaped as she swooned and dramatically recounted her date.

“He got me flowers and burned all my favorite songs onto a CD, then like in a movie we kissed under the stars as the smiths played in the background,” Renatta said dreamily before nibbling on one of her cheesy fries.

“Aren’t you two smitten, you guys have been dating for what two months now?” I said with a grin to which Renatta nodded and opened her mouth to coo on about him more but Resse interrupted her.

“If we’re talking about smitten we should be talking about you and Rodrick rather, I’d love to know what’s going on there,” Reese said and all of a sudden the entire table’s attention was on me, I gulped sinking into my seat with a reddened face.

“Wh-what do you mean..? We’re just friends.” I cringed knowing how unbelievable I sounded and I could feel the way they were rolling their eyes.

“You know exactly what they mean, Reese and I were at the theater too the other day. I saw you too all cuddled up and giggly.” Cecily said leaning forward on her elbows as she sipped from her slushie, I just sighed knowing I had to tell them eventually.

“We’re really just friends… but I’d be lying if I said that’s all I wanted to be,” I said looking away with a heavy blush, I tried to hide my embarrassment behind my own drink as I took a long sip.

“Ha! I knew it, pay up losers!” Alejandro said holding his hand out happily, Nolan groaned handing him a ten-dollar bill and Cecily, Reese, and Renatta did the same.

“I can’t believe you guys are placing beta on my love life!!” I said trying to hold back a laugh and keep my angry expression.

“It wasn’t my idea! I thought it was childish, but they called me chicken and I am no chicken.” Nolan said raising his hands defensively but Alejandro just clucked at him, so I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh yeah sure Nolan, whatever helps you sleep at night.” I teased and Nolan held a heart to his chest feigning heartbreak.

“So what are you going to do, are you going to tell him how you feel?”

Before I could respond Reese butted in again, “But what about that stuff with Heather?” The table went quiet and they all just looked at me and glared at Reese who was oblivious to the tension. I just sighed with a shrug, I figured now was probably a good time to tell them anyway though I’m sure at least some of them had figured it out.

“You are so blunt but you’re right Reese, I should probably talk to her first. I’m sure you guys figured it out but when me and Heather met a few years before we had a short fling.”

Everyone either nodded or let out quiet yesses, except for Reese who seemed pleasant surprise but just nodded along anyway. After the brief awkward movement, we went back to chatting about more light-hearted topics, though I fell back from the conversation as I had a lot on my mind. Eventually, we all parted ways for the night.

Renatta was driving me home, it was just us in the car and it was slightly awkward. I couldn’t tell why though but she seemed to be a bit tense, as we sat at a red light she turned to me with furrowed brows.

“Do-do you think you still have feelings for Heather?” I was taken aback by the question and that wasn’t at all what I was expecting her to ask of be worried about.

“Oh uh, no I don’t think so. It’s been so long now and I barely know her, all I know for sure is that I definitely like Rodrick more than her.” I said hoping that would be a sufficient answer but I was curious as to why she asked, Renatta seemed to relax a bit at my answer and continued to drive as the light turned green.

“Good, good. I just-“ she hesitated for a moment as she glanced over at me, “I can be honest with you right?”

“Yeah of course, what is Ren?”

“So you know the ‘guy’ that I’ve been dating right? The reason I’ve kept it so hush-hush is because well, it's not a guy. I started dating Heather, and I know I said I hated her but she can actually be really sweet. She just has a big personality is all, so I just didn’t want things to be awkward if you did still have feelings…” I turned to look at Renatta who refused to meet my eyes, I was surprised by her confession but I just smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I promise things won’t be awkward, and I honestly think you two make such a cute couple. How come you haven’t told the others yet though?”

“I don’t know, I just wasn’t sure what you’d guys say. I’m dating another girl, and out of all of them, it’s Heather. Not to mention she also wanted to keep it a secret, she doesn’t want her parents to find out.” She said with a sigh as she pulled up along the curb outside my house.

“I see that’s a tricky situation, but I think when you guys are comfortable you should tell the group. I know I haven’t known you all as long but I think they’ll welcome you both with open arms, so don’t worry too much okay? Thanks for hanging out and the ride, I hope you have a good night.” I pulled Renatta into a hug, she hugged me back tightly nodding along to my words.

We hugged for a good while before I finally got out of the car, I waved goodbye as she drove off and I headed inside with a lot to think about. What I was going to say to Heather, was how I was supposed to either find Rodrick likes me or get him to like me. It was only the third month of school and everything seemed so complicated, at least Thanksgiving break was coming and I’d had time away from school to think. I just hope I don’t wind myself into something even more troublesome.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[narrators-journal]

Just a dream

I’m still on a bit of that horror train, so I took a bit of a softer idea I’ve been chewing on for a bit and decided to flex my descriptive muscles. That’s it. Is this super fucking clear? Probably not. But I hope it’s at least descriptive, and effective in painting the picture I want.

I also wanted to explore a bit more of a dark take on my usual writing energy? Idk, kinda hard to explain. I just wanted to write something that crossed wires in a way.

CW: Beware! There be attempted gore ahead! There’s also a bit of a sexual energy, dipping slightly into Ryoji’s darker tastes. Maybe this counts as a hint of Ero Guro? Not super heavy on the Ero tho, it’s just there. The biggest warning is for there being gore.

Minato squirmed beneath Ryoji’s touch, his back arched into his palm, his body offered up for each of Ryoji’s whims. Which, was a sight that brought a soft smile to the god’s face before he dipped his head and began a slow trail of feather-light kisses at the wildcard’s jaw and moved down his neck, then his sternum. “Ryoji…” the shaggy-haired man beneath the god sighed, his cloudy grey eyes focus on the brunette as he continued to leave delicate kisses down Minato’s belly. Each kiss and playful nibble enough to make the muscles below his pale skin flutter, or a shiver run down Minato’s body. A phenomenon that made Ryoji pause with his lips still against the man’s warm skin as he purred, “God, you’re so pretty, funeral lily…” Each fresh inhale of the wildcard’s lavender scent afterwards intoxicating him further.

“R-Ryoji…” And, just like that, the fog of lust was lifted by the distressed tone of the blue-haired man’s whimper. “Mina? Why do you sound so sad all of-” Ryoji didn’t need to finish his question. Because, when he lifted his eyes to look back up to his lover’s face, the pained grimace and tears he saw answered the question. “Funeral lily, what’s wrong?!” Ryoji asked instead as he pushed himself up from the wildcard’s belly to instead reach a hand up to the man’s cheek. Then, his breath froze in his throat.

His fingers. His pale skin, usually the color of a beam of moonlight, was now a sickeningly sticky shade of cherry against Minato’s own fair cheek. A shade that could be tracked down the wildcard’s body until he found the source. The spot where the skin of Minato’s belly had been torn open. A yawning, bloodied maw barely held together by the last few strands of the wildcard’s skin that remained.

For a moment, the sight his funeral lily stained red like this was morbidly beautiful, in that deeply unspoken manner. Yet, the sticky reminder of the blood on his face brought the god back to the reality of the moment. “Ryoji…”

It was Minato’s blood on his face. The crimson color that bloomed across the sheets was his fault. He hadn’t brought his lover any pleasure in exchange for his own. He’d only hurt him. “Ryoji.” The wildcard’s voice called. Muffled by the buzz of blood in the god’s ears as the brunette’s gut twisted and tied itself into knots. “Mochizuki!”

Freed from his dream, Ryoji threw himself out of the bed. Desperate to somehow get away from the copper scent on his skin, only to fall against the sturdy bedroom door before he sank to the floor. With his sapphire eyes barely cleared of sleepy haze as they darted from one corner of the shadow-filled bedroom to the next, the brunette’s heart thundered in his ears. The harshba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump in his chest nearly so loud, that it would’ve drowned out Minato’s voice when he huffed, “Ryoji, what the hell are you doing?” if the midnight-haired man had not moved as he spoke.

Minato?

Sure enough, Minato Arisato sat on the bed. His voice thick with sleep and confused annoyance, but the snow-colored button-up he was draped in seemed...untouched. His shaggy, dark hair was mussed and frizzy, but the wildcard was in one piece. He was perfectly fine.

He was unharmed. Though storm cloud eyes flashed with lightning, those bolts were what allowed reality to trickle back into Ryoji’s brain through the fog of anxiety and the slam of his heart against his ribs. Until, finally, the reaper’s fear had ebbed. “Ryoji.” Minato said in a firmer, yet suddenly kinder, voice that snapped the brunette out of his thoughts to look at his suddenly-softened partner. Why is he so nice all of a sudden?A dumb thought, for sure, because it surely wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that something must’ve been wrong with the god of death to have him huddled against the door like a frightened animal. And, despite his bad attitude and sharp tongue, Minato knew when honey was more effective than vinegar. “Nightshade, why did you jump up like that? Are you okay?” The shaggy-haired wildcard asked as he crouched down in front of Ryoji.

Yet, his quiet, gentle words still didn’t seem to be enough to receive an actual response from the half awake Shadow. only tears. “Hey, hey shh. You’re okay, Nightshade. It was just a bad dream.” the wildcard swiftly soothed, his hands moved to cup Ryoji’s round, soft face and swipe his tears away with his thumbs.

There was no fear. No hesitation to touch Ryoji and pull him from the sharp claws of his hysteria. “I’m so sorry!” The brunette finally sobbed, unable to tell whether the apology was for his dream, or the tears he couldn’t stop when they poured down his full cheeks and over his lover’s hands. Not that the reason mattered, though, to anyone but Ryoji. “Why are you apologizing? All you’ve done is startle me and have a bad dream.” He pointed out, the brunette only able to continue bawling as he stammered on uneven breaths, “I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean to h-hurt you.” Yet, Minato only continued to soothe him. “Nightshade, you had a nightmare. I’m fine, you haven’t done anything to me, see?”

As he spoke, the midnight-haired wildcard moved his hands from the distressed god’s cheeks to instead grab his wrists and put his hands on his hips. The warmth in his voice, the intimacy of the soft skin beneath Ryoji’s palms once more, with no fear or hesitation, only trust. Seemed to be the final anchor the brunette needed to fully realize that his dream wasn’t his reality. So, the brunette was slowly able to pull free of the self-imposed, irrational guilt and just curl around his lover. “I’m so sorry...for scaring you.” He eventually mumbled into the lavender-scented skin of Minato’s neck while the wildcard threaded his fingers through the brunette’s hair. Now sat in the god’s lap, with an arm draped around his shoulders and a thread of amusement in his chuckle, “It’s okay, Nightshade. I’m honestly sort of endeared that your worst nightmare is hurting me.” which, earned a weak giggle from Ryoji before the two settled into a comfortable sort of silence.

Eventually, they would likely move back to bed. But, for the moment, Ryoji simply buried his face in Minato’s scent to replace the stench of blood and distract from how vivid the moment had felt.

[bihanspookies]

Kate and The No Good Very Terrible Week

Summary: Kate’s having the worst week possible and Alora decides to try and cheer her up.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

By the end of the week, Alora would’ve believed that the universe had some sort of issue with Kate Murphy, which wouldn’t be too far off considering what it’s already put her through. It started on Monday, when she walked sluggishly into the kitchen area and promptly dropped her head face down onto the table. Alora, who was standing by the counter eating a bowl of cereal, stared at her, chewing silently and waiting for Kate to spew about whatever was bothering her. Moments had passed and the half Edenian was about to put her empty bowl into the sink when the half celestial sighed dramatically and turned her head to look at Alora.

“I’ve had the most awful morning.” She mumbled, bottom lip quivering with her sparkling blue eyes lined with crystal teardrops.

Alora found out through incoherent sobbing that it was because she lost her favorite pencil and couldn’t journal her night's dreams.

Tuesday, Alex had brought a box of donuts and coffee for the gang and when Kate was about to stick her strawberry frosted treat in her mouth, it slipped out her hand and fell icing first to the floor. A beat went by before Kate reached down to grab it, sugar pink glaze smearing on the dirty tile and Alora had shot her hand out to stop Kate from eating the filthy pastry.

“But five second rule—“ Kate had started and Alora shook her head before offering her own cinnamon donut to Kate. It didn’t stop there of course, because Kate’s coffee order was also a disaster; vanilla creamer with only one sugar. Kate nearly spiraled and let out a long exaggerated groan as Alex tried comforting her and apologizing for not double checking.

Wednesday, Kate had asked Alora if she could play with Michi. All was well until Michi bit her hard on the finger when she picked him up without properly warning him. Kate wasn’t angry at the little rat, but did beat herself up for scaring him.

Thursday, her art block finally went away and she was ready to throw herself into the colors of her mind and her paint. Until she remembered that she still hadn’t found her favorite pencil and couldn’t sketch down her plan first, attempting to draw with the next one she could find but it didn’t feel the same. Alora was walking by Kate’s room when she heard the very elongated wail of ‘no’.

Friday and Saturday were surprisingly normal, but with everything else that had gone wrong, Kate was still sulking here and there, a heavy cloud of gray hanging above her head.

Sunday is when Alora decides to try and take matters into her own hands.

She wakes up early, earlier than Kate at least because she knows that ray of sunshine is always greeting everyone before the actual sun does. Alora does her morning routine and says goodbye to Michi before grabbing her things and heading out. Her sneakers quietly scrape against the floor, auburn hair tied back into a high ponytail that sways with every step she takes towards Echo’s quarters. She can only hope the petite blonde is awake at this ungodly hour.

The sun is just peeking over the horizon and shining its streams into the Black Dragon base by the time Alora reaches Echo’s door. She gives a firm three knocks and waits a few seconds before trying again, louder this time. When more seconds pass and she’s about to give it one more try, the hacker opens the door with a subtle flicker of frustration in her green-gray eyes.

“It’s barely 7:15, what could you possibly need at an hour like this?” Her voice, while polite, does have a hint of irritation. She keeps the door open just a crack, enough for Alora to make out half her face still evident with sleep.

“Need to take out a car.”

“So take it.” She answers quickly.

“I have to sign it out with you.” Alora responds just as fast.

“I will deal with it later, now please—“

Right as she goes to close the door, Alora spots movement from behind her on the bed, someone shifting over to face them. She can practically see the hairs on top of Echo’s head stand up straight when Erron Black shuffles over, muttering in his sleep and clutching a pillow to his naked chest. Alora looks down at Echo, eyebrow raised and the faintest curve of her lips.

“Sorry, have a good morning Echo. Thanks for the car.” Alora murmurs, letting her smirk grow the tiniest bit before stepping back to allow her to shut the door. Out to the garage she goes, grabbing a granola bar on the way to snack on.

Nearly two hours later Alora finally returns, a bag in each hand with a coffee gripped in between her fingers as she hurries through the base. She switches the bag in her left to her right, just now holding the coffee and very carefully knocking on Echo’s door once again. The blonde opens it, still in her sleepwear and locking eyes with Alora.

“Yes?” A smidge more pleasant this time but there’s still that wall of disinterest behind her tone.

Alora says nothing, simply handing Echo her usual coffee order and taking a risky peek behind her to see the cowboy still nestled in her sheets.

“For earlier. Don’t know his.” She murmurs softly, offering a small smile and then walking away to head to her room. Echo leans out just enough to watch her disappear around the corner, allowing her lips to move upward the smallest amount before backing up and quietly shutting her door again.

With nimble fingers, Alora fastens together the gifs for Kate in a basket she uses in her greenhouse; a small bundle of different orange pencils (she doesn’t know what brand she likes), a pack of mini strawberry donuts, a handful of hazelnut creamer that she took from a cafe, and last but not least a tiny bouquet of sunflowers. They’re Kate’s favorite from what Alora remembers, recalling seeing her gush about them and how they capture her personality.

She steps back and admires her work, eyes narrowed and lips pursed with her hands perched on her hips. Michi squeaks and scurries around her room, pausing to sniff at Alora’s boot to determine where she had gone. Once he deems it acceptable he runs off, disappearing under her bed.

“Silly rat,” She mutters under her breath, doing one more look over before grabbing the basket and clutching it under her arm.

“See you in a bit, Michi.” She calls out, his peeps sounding faint from under the bed. Alora heads out her room and starts on her journey towards Kate’s, wanting to be in and out as quickly as possible.

She passes by Kabal who, of course, is speaking with the one person she is trying to avoid. They’re sitting at a table, Kate’s back to her as her hands wave around animatedly. She talks about the wacky dream she had last night, Kabal’s eyebrow raised as he listens with his arms crossed over his chest as she rambles on.

For a split second he and Alora lock eyes, the speedster ready to announce her presence but she shakes her head to warn him not to. He looks from her to the basket cradled under her arm, the sunflowers being a giveaway as to who it was for. He nods subtly, returning his attention fully to Kate who’s now talking about the laser shooting dinosaurs that took over the world. Alora walks faster, snorting quietly as she hears a very loud ‘AND THEN!’ from the petite girl.

Quiet as a mouse she slips into her room, dropping the gift on the center of her bed and hurrying back out.

Despite her outward appearance and off putting demeanor, Alora does have her moments where she allows her comrades to get glimpses of who she is on the inside. Who she truly is past the sarcastic comments and brute honesty she offers from time to time. Those fleeting seconds of her steely gaze turning kind, aura shifting from the colors of fierce flame to those of a cooling sunset.

She can be gentle at times, those chances of being able to do so feel so rare and just out of reach. Not because she doesn’t want to— but because she fears letting people go too far in and settle deep in her heart, hammering away at the stone fortress she’s built around herself.

But for today she allows herself to take another fissure, a chip in the corner where a hole has already started to form and let in the radiant sunbeam that is Katelynn Murphy.

Alora passes by Kabal and Kate once again, the former now slumped in a chair and propping his head up with his hand. He spots Alora, empty handed, and happily points her out to Kate.

“Hey!” He shouts with a grin.

Kate abruptly stops talking and swivels around to look at her, big doe eyes filling with glee and waving at Alora.

“Lori!”

Alora stops and lets out a delicate sigh, the corner of her lips ticking up as she walks up to the two of them and slings an arm over the back of Kate’s chair.

“Heard you talking about another dream. Did the gnomes come back?”

It’s barely a full 24 hours when Kate discovers the gift and decides to go thank Alora, finding the fighter fully engrossed in tending to her tomatoes in the greenhouse. She clears her throat when standing at the entrance to announce herself, Alora’s head tilting up with a minor look of surprise on her face. She’s holding something behind her back, clearly trying to hide it from Alora’s view.

“Hey.” Alora calls, returning her attention back to the fruit, ripping out the weeds that have festered around them.

“Hi!” Kate responds, a pep in her step as she gathers closer to watch Alora.

There’s a few moments of silence of Kate simply watching, Alora not minding the audience since it’s something she had grown accustomed to since letting her inside her sanctum. Alora parts her lips to ask a question, but is cut off when Kate places the basket delicately next to Alora. She then wraps her arms around her and squeezes with a delightful hum.

“Thank you.” She says softly, peering at Alora with her glimmering sapphire eyes.

Alora feels the small chamber around the fortress of her heart get just a bit bigger, her own icy gaze locking onto Kate’s as her hand comes to rest on top of her head. Kate knows she’s not one for words when it comes to expressing herself emotionally, but that gleam in Alora’s eyes says everything that she doesn’t.

You’re welcome.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Alex: @chadillacboseman

Echo: @roofgeese

Kate: @thesingularityseries

[dangerous-disposition]

71. Roger/Charlie

So, Roger and Charlie are OCs and this little fic is set somewhere in the same universe as here i have found some peace of mind. Some of y'all might recognize Charlie a little bit from i could be honest because he was Tig's boyfriend in that!!

Roger belongs to @stobinesque, Charlie belongs to me. Thank you so much Read for letting me play with your OC and also for shipping him so much with Charlie like I doooooooooo 😭

Tagging: @theheadlessphilosopher @scarcrossdlvrs @starryeyedjanai @sentient-trash @patchworkgargoyle @steddieas-shegoes @vecnuthy

Anyway, to the ficlet!!!

It was a slow, almost lazy Sunday morning, the “almost” accounting for the fact that Roger was doing chores. Technically. He was doing laundry, which involved a lot of sitting and waiting to change the loads over, so he didn’t count that in the same realm of chores like mopping or vacuuming.

Over on the couch, Charlie was sitting cross-legged with an acoustic guitar in his lap, plucking out a few chords and frowning as he started from the top again. When he did a little motion with his mouth that made his moustache twitch, Roger couldn’t help the soft snort of laughter that gusted through his nose. When he looked back over at Charlie, the young man was smiling at him questioningly, eyes wide and guileless. Waving him off with another chuckle, Roger went back to folding his laundry.

As the gentle sounds of Charlie’s guitar filled the room again, Roger picked up one of his sleep shirts that was still inside-out. With a grumble, he started to flip it right-side-out when his finger went through a hole, bringing a frown to Roger’s face.

See, none of his loungewear was particularly new, but it was all still in decent condition. Worn, but not worn-out. It was also just a weird spot for a hole to develop; high on the right side of the chest, just in front of the armpit and shoulder. It was also a fairly tiny hole, which meant it likely wasn’t caused by either the washer or the dryer.

Shaking his head, he folded the shirt and picked up the next one just to discover a nearly identical hole; on the right side, high on the chest, just before the armpit and shoulder. His puzzled frown deepening, he started pulling out every one of his t-shirts and discovered the same hole in various sizes.

Lifting his gaze to Charlie, a question about how those holes could’ve been caused poised on the tip of his tongue. He froze, however, as he watched Charlie lift a silicon pendant he wore around his neck to his mouth and started to chew on it thoughtfully, returning to strumming his guitar thoughtfully.

It was one of Charlie’s habits, a self-soothing technique he said he’d had since childhood, one that led to him biting and chewing on most things. The biggest thing for him to suck and chew on was fabric, especially while he slept. For the most part, it was limited to his own shirts and the blankets he had assured Roger, his face lighting up with one of the prettiest blushes he’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing for himself.

Charlie was embarrassed of the habit, but Roger found it endearing, especially when he would wake up to find his shirt caught between Charlie’s teeth. It was something he found so adorable, he would pretend to be asleep just a bit longer, so Charlie had enough time to wake up and get himself sorted. Roger knew if he ever commented on it, Charlie would somehow try to stop, and while yes it was a little uncomfortable to wake up with a wet spot on his shirt, the knowledge that Charlie felt safe enough to do that more than made up for any discomfort.

And now there was evidence of it. There was something that was, on the surface, so small and insignificant, and yet it was so big. It was something that Roger only had because Charlie existed. Those little holes in his shirts were there because Charlie existed and loved him, because Charlie felt safe in Roger’s arms as he slept and subconsciously felt accepted enough to self-soothe the way he needed. The love Roger felt for the young man was overwhelming and terrifying most of the time, but in that moment, it felt so right and so perfect, and he desperately needed Charlie to know.

Dropping the shirt back into the basket, Roger rounded the island and stood above Charlie, cupping the younger man’s jaw in both hands to tip his face upward.

Charlie stared up at Roger, dark eyes bright and engaged, his smile gentle and adoring, even as he held the stim toy between his teeth. Reaching up, Charlie sucked the toy discreetly with minimal noise before pulling it out of his mouth to grin up at Roger properly.

“Hey,” he said brightly, letting his eyes flutter closed as he nuzzled a cheek into the palm holding it.

Roger was gone on this man, and for once he wasn’t afraid of that.

“God,” Roger started, his thumbs stroking Charlie’s stubbled cheeks. “I love you.”

Charlie’s eyes widened with a soft gasp, his perfect, pretty mouth falling open with his stunned happiness. This wasn’t the first time Roger said it— he actually said it back almost every time Charlie said those words nowadays, which Roger thought was a huge deal. He went nearly forty years not even feeling this way for another person, let alone saying those words and meaning them like he did. And he knew Charlie was perfectly content, even if Roger never said it first, and he would’ve been happy even if Roger never said it back at all.

But Roger wanted to meet Charlie where he was, even just for this small moment in time together.

“I love you,” Roger repeated, this time bending to kiss Charlie’s parted lips, sweet and chaste. Lowering one hand, he grabbed the neck of the guitar and gently removed it from Charlie’s lap to put it back on its stand nearby.

“I love you, too,” Charlie gasped against Roger’s lips, both hands lifting to rest on his chest. “Love you so much, mi amado.”

[yeehawpurgatory]

Knots & Peculiarity

Apologies for the late post! Posted earlier to AO3--But I finally got to my desktop so Tumblr it is! @rdrevents​

Here is my 2023 RDR Valentine Fanfic Exchange for the awesome @southernlynxx once again I hope you enjoy, I loved all of your prompts; especially John using Arthur’s lap as a pillow :’)))

Title:  Knots & Peculiarity

Pairing: John x Arthur

Summary:  

 “Arthur…you really there?” This time it’s louder than a whisper, ghosting over his lips. ”Right here Marston, lie back now.” Arthur mutters quietly, he hoped they hadn’t garnered any attention. His eyes widen when Marston raises a trembling hand; Arthur holds his breath. The younger man’s palm pressed against Arthur’s chest for too many seconds. Just a solid, seeking touch is all it is.

The silence in the cabin nearly made him forget about all the other occupants. Only the occasional sniffle and shuffling, the sound of a cigarette’s light hissing as it burns, reminds Arthur he’s in the main cabin with the women and the others.

The past few days he’d made himself sparse, not on purpose though, between hunting most days and planning that train robbery with Dutch, he hadn’t much time to check on folks the way he liked. People hadn’t seen much of him for a few days. That’s probably what made him a jarring sight now, standing with mist-clouded eyes in front of another good man they’d nearly lost.

Arthur takes his gloves off as he hovers closely to the cot.

There’s another sound, quiet, nearly missable. The laboured, ragged breaths of his longest friend, injured and shaking, barely conscious through it all. They’d found Marston just days ago, bleeding, starving, nearly dead up in the mountains. Laying on the cot, chewed up and spat out, the younger man looked pitiful with half his face bandaged; the showing skin was painfully raised and colourfully splotched. A gory sight before, but little Johnny Marston looked downright bad now.

Worse than Jenny’s corpse had looked when he’d helped Lenny and Karen bury her, the youngest hands shaking the entire time. He looked worse than Davy too, and he’d all but held his own guts inside his body, the poor bastard.

Arthur bit his chapped lips and brushed a few greasy, tangled locks of black hair away from Marston’s mouth. The younger man’s unwrapped eye flickered beneath his closed lid, otherwise he didn’t react to the touch. Swanson must’ve seen to him earlier.  

Arthur’s compelled to this spot in this cramped cabin for reasons he can’t quite explain, like an unseen force dragged him here and kept him staring stupidly. Waiting for something or another.

His bare hand rests just above Marston’s head.

It’s Susan that snaps him out of his stupor. The older woman had just been sitting on the stool, picking at Marston’s stitches with Strauss; pained sounds leaving the injured man’s lips the entire time.

“Mr Morgan.” Her tone is firm, but her eyes were softer with him than with most others. He grunts his acknowledgement to her.

Arthur feels Grimshaw’s eyes burning a hole through him, as though his leisurely presence was unacceptable to her. He half expects her to tell him to git. To go make himself useful. To go find some food or firewood.

She doesn’t.

Instead Susan stoops low, rummaging through a meagre box of the camp's belongings. She pushes aside a sewing kit and spools of thread, some scraps of fabric, a bottle of medicine; she pulls out a simple black comb with a few teeth missing.

Susan glances at him again, a different look in her eyes this time, and Arthur is brave enough to look her in the face with his own clouded pair of eyes.

“Might as well do some work if you’re set on standing around.” Her tone conveys no nonsense, a harsh barking command. She presses the comb into his hand. “Been tempted to cut that mangled mop from his head—I would’ve if I didn’t think he’d wake up kicking and screaming like last time.”

Like last time. Arthur huffs, his lips twinge upward in amusement, thinking of the last time someone had tried to cut Johnny’s hair without expressed permission.

When he doesn’t move Susan’s face falls slightly. He can’t look at her suddenly, throat too constricted and stomach churning. “He don’t like many folk handling  him.”

Unless it’s you. She didn’t say that—but she didn’t need to. It weren’t no kind of secret between the folks who’d been with them since the beginning. The boys are— were inseparable, would still be if not for Marston’s big mistake.

The big mean bastard he is, Arthur thinks there ought to be a nasty part of him which takes satisfaction in seeing the fool broken and pathetic and needing someone for the littlest task, but there isn’t. That’s the thing that confuses him the most. He’s not enjoying watching John fight for his life while he thinks on the past, not one bit, never mind how much he thought he would. All he feels is loneliness somehow, a need to stay by Marston’s side for reasons beyond him.

Arthur sits on the stool. He breathes long and deep, clearing his throat. He blinks away mist to see Marston clearly. The hand atop the greasy mop just sits there for a few seconds.

This is intimate. In spite of the crowd, of the  audience , brushing Marston’s hair feels like something he should be doing behind closed doors. He can’t understand why. Even when his heart starts to flutter.

Still, Arthur’s fingers card through the cold greasy locks. True to Susan’s word it’s a tangled mess better suited for a pair of shears; but then they’d have to deal with Marston’s peculiar anger. Arthur didn’t get it, why grow your hair if you hate washing and brushing it?

Still, Arthur picked at a tangled chunk of hair with the comb, careful of the brittle teeth. He pauses when Marston moaned quietly, as Arthur moved to his scalp. The vulnerability in this moment makes his stomach uneasy. This is a man he’s felt nothing but animosity towards for a few years now, and here Arthur was, carefully brushing his hair, while he lingers in the precarious spot between life and death.

He couldn’t get all of it with the bumps and bandages covering Marston, but Arthur carefully worked the comb through as best he could till his fingers could card through Marston’s hair without getting snagged on too many knots.

---

Arthur lessens the gap between them, hunching over Marston when a particularly nasty gust of air enters the cabin and makes him shiver.  Damn cold…Damn drafty cabin…Damn soft wet wood…

Another heavy gust finally wakes the other man. One dazed dark, blood filled eye looks up at Arthur without an ounce of recognition; he knows what a man looks like when he’s dazed from drugs or fever. This is it. The look of his eye makes Arthur shiver. John shifts around, muttering nonsensical ramblings.

“Careful now Marston.” If he doesn’t sit still he’ll hurt himself—already seems to be in pain by the sounds he makes. The younger man grimaced, teeth clenching together as he willed himself upright.

“What'do you need?” Arthur mutters and slips an arm around his back to hold him upright. Marston’s real close to him now, but that pesky fool won’t stop wriggling around.

“Morgan?…”

John’s voice stills him. His name is said in a cracked whisper, far too quiet for others to hear, but loud enough for Arthur to hear the peculiarity in his tone. Like Marston was surprised to see him here. That hurt.

“Morgan…” he trails off again, this time squinting up at the older man. Unseeing eye tracing over Arthur’s worn features, peering  inside him, yet seeing nothing though he still searches. Cold as it were, Arthur feels himself heat up under the scrutiny. It makes him want to shove off and leave, to chastise himself for seeking company, from Marston of all folk. Then he speaks again.

“Arthur…you really there?” This time it’s louder than a whisper, ghosting over his lips.

“Right here Marston, lie back now.” Arthur mutters quietly, he hoped they hadn’t garnered any attention. His eyes widen when Marston raises a trembling hand; Arthur holds his breath. The younger man’s palm pressed against Arthur’s chest for too many seconds. Just a solid, seeking touch is all it is.

He huffs just then, making little frustrated noises as he eases his way back down, clearly deciding whatever he attempted rising for weren’t nothing important. His hand leaves Arthur’s chest, and the older man can finally breathe.

“Stop movin’ around…M-Marston!?”

A weight fell across his lap. Arthur blinked.

Half asleep, half drugged, half whatever—Marston had dragged himself across Arthur’s lap. If folk weren’t looking before, they sure as hell were looking now.

Arthur’s hand hovered just over John’s head. Marston laid awkwardly, with his lower body stretched out onto the cot, his upper body resting on Arthur.  He suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands; he let one rest gently atop John’s. Arthur swore then. Marston’s hands were icey. He slips his discarded gloves over them without thinking.

Arthur fixes the blanket over Marston’s form when the younger man turns his head in his lap again. He sighs and Goddamn nuzzles his nose against Arthur’s leg.

The display heats up his cheeks—makes his heart race. John hasn’t accepted any semblance of closeness with anyone these last few years, much less Arthur. Gone were the days where they slept back to back, where they embraced each other with bear hugs and delightful shouts and pats on the backs.

He’s got half a mind to shove the other man off him and walk right out. Damn him. Instead, Arthur resumes his task with a pounding heart when Marston’s breathing evens out. Methodically, he brushes the rest of Marston’s hair until it falls straight and loose. Oily beyond belief, but cleaner looking than it had been in weeks.

Then he sits there and pockets the comb, his silly little task is done. He should get up. Do some actual work, not just sit here pondering.

Marston shivers again. Arthur stays seated. He’s stuck in place, unless he wants to dump Marston back onto the uncomfortable looking cot to shiver with his threadbare blanket. His head tells him as much, but his body won’t do it.

Goddamnit!  He can’t do it, Arthur’s rooted to the spot as though Marston weighs a tonne, with his head pillowed in his lap. It’d be downright cruel to shove him away, as sorry as his state is.

Arthur tries his best to ignore the familiar warmth and conflicting fondness which filled him the longer he sat there, watching John sleep soundly in his care.

Behind him, folks start talking softly.

---

“It’s awful kind of you, letting him do that again.”

Arthur nearly jumps at the voice which caught him off guard. It’s Hosea. Of course it is. Who else could sneak up on him like that? His old friend has a glimmer in his eye, one Arthur stopped trying to guess the reason behind a long time ago. A special type of fondness he reserved for only a select few; Arthur, John, Bessie long ago, Tilly, Lenny, little Jack Marston…

“Sure, I’m real kind when I have to be.”

Hosea ignored his retort. He looked off to the side wearing an expression Arthur can’t read, an expression he shares with Susan, who stood by the fireplace. He catches her face however; it’s soft. Understanding. Knowing. When her gaze shifts from Hosea to him, Arthur drops his head. He looks only at Marston. At his sleeping form pillowed on Arthur’s thighs.

As precarious as his injuries are, the man curls up in a way that can’t be comfortable, never mind the relaxed expression on his face; he looks a lot like Jack in Abigail’s lap, or like how Copper used to curl up in his. Arthur chuckles and thinks to himself. Marston ain’t a cute kid like Jack, his company isn’t as enjoyable as a dogs neither.

The thing is…Marston is annoying and lazy, and stupid and entitled. They’ve been competing with each other for too damn long. But…he’s dear to Arthur. Oh so dear. Oh so dumb and useless too …but he’ll always have an incredible, inexplicable love for John. For the boy he was and the man he is today. One he doesn’t quite understand the depth of. A love he knows he’ll carry with him until the day he dies. He’d do anything for the other man, no matter how much he wants to deny it. Anything he was asked.

Arthur runs a hand through Marston’s hair, humming in satisfaction when his fingers card through without resistance. The younger man made a soft noise at that, tilting his head up, searching for the gentle hand once again. Arthur hesitates for a few seconds, fingers frozen but not from the cold. Then, like he always seems to do when it comes to the other man; Arthur relents. He strokes Marston’s greasy locks, paying special mind to repeat the actions which draw soft content sighs from the younger man.

Be it traversing through a shit snow storm, brushing his damn hair, or allowing the younger man to use him as a pillow with basically the entire gang bearing witness; there wasn’t anything Arthur wouldn’t do for John.

Even now, with his legs long asleep, and back screaming at him, Arthur stays in place and lets John rest in his lap. He’ll stay there as long as he can, for as long as he’s needed.

[raving-raven-writing]

Trick or treat?👻

Treat, please! 🍬

I want to share another snippet from my Street Kid AU for Avatar. From a future chapter that shows Spider still struggling with drug cravings despite being "clean" for a small period of time. This has some OC characters in it---twin girls that belong to one of the recoms. The mention of one of the names should be enough for you to guess who they belong to. Enjoy! (BTW, I hope I am doing this Trick or Treat thing correctly. First time I've participated in it) _________________________________________________________

The cravings still persisted. Some days were worse than others. Today was one of the not so good days. After his morning chores and brief study session, he’d found himself out in the barn, inhaling the scent of wood shavings and horse. He’d been on his way out of the barn, set on taking a shower, and then an idea crawled into his brain. A horrible idea.

That was about half an hour ago or so, and now Spider sat on the barn floor of one of the stalls he’d cleaned out that morning, a small pile of sawdust in his hand.  For nearly twenty minutes he’d thought it over and over—it wasn’t the same, it would never be the same feeling. But damn, he was hitting a new low, trying to fill his craving for some blow by snorting saw dust from the wood shavings that were used to bed the few horse stalls they had.

Inhaling the sawdust burned his nostrils, stinging his sinus cavities and after a moment he sneezed. He rubbed at his nose and dusted off his hands before getting to his feet, intent on heading back into the house for that shower.

“What are you doing?” Lupita stood in the doorway to the barn, her small frame a black shadow against he sunlight.

Spider sniffed again, wiping the back of his hand against his nose. “Nothing. What are you doing?” The little girl gave him a suspicious look, one eyebrow raised in question; it clearly looked like she didn’t believed him, but she didn’t question him on it anymore. Her twin, Juanita, poked her head around the corner before coming to join and stand beside her sister. “Can you play hide and seek with us, MJ? Please!” Spider paused as he   His chores were done, school work could wait he supposed; Prager wasn’t the type to chew him out for slacking a bit on his assignments. “Okay. But just inside the house, I don’t want to have to search the entire farm for you two!”

The girls ran off to hide, giggling as they practically tripped over each other to find the best hiding spot. When they had run back into the house, Spider started counting to fifty before he called out “Ready or Not, here I come”. 

The house seemed empty, the others either out at their jobs or out doing some sort of farm work. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked down the hall and glanced into each room. Some places were off limits, like some bedrooms and his father’s office, so he didn’t bother opening the door to those rooms; despite the girls being so young, they knew what rooms were off limits. He made his way to the second floor, his fingertips skimming along the wood paneling that ran the length of the halls. Most of the rooms upstairs were bedrooms, the doors always closed, all except one. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he realized what room it was.

The door to the infirmary was unlocked and open.

[the-scaredy-crow]

OC Deep Dive

Thank you for the tag @finickyfelix! It's been a couple weeks! Between work, moving into my apartment, and school starting again, I have fallen behind on tags a bit, but I finally carved out some time to work on them.

I will be filling this out for both MCs in Kindling Bones, which means we finally get to see Adam in one of these games for once.

I'm leaving an open tag for anyone who wants to try this out. Happy writing! <3 (Template is at the end of the post)

What common/uncommon fears do they have?

Rhys: His two biggest fears are fire and losing people. He also gets scared by loud noises, like explosions pretty easily.

Adam: Adam has a big fear of failure and of disappointing literally anyone. Most people probably aren't scared to take pills, but Adam won't even take pain medicine unless it's absolutely necessary.

Do they have any pet peeves?

Rhys: Nosiness, staring, questions, etc... (he is loving all these questions)

Adam: Irresponsible pet ownership.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Rhys: His barely-unpacked suit case, a charging port, and his most prized possession: a nautical key chain his brother got from some tourist-trap. It never leaves his person, so it isn't always in that room specifically.

Adam: His bedroom is a lot more cluttered. The top three things include: a calendar marked with due-dates and inspirational messages; his desk, littered with textbooks, playbills, and markers; and the occasional foster cat or patient from the vet who needed a little extra help with pain.

What do they notice first in a person?

Rhys: He pays close attention to how much the other person notices about him. If they have a neck tattoo, he notices that even quicker.

Adam: He is very perceptive in a way most people don't notice. Adam knows the signs of someone in pain—physical, mental, or emotional—and is good at spotting them.

On a scale of 1 to 10 how high is their pain tolerance?

Rhys: His pain tolerance is probably a bit heightened after being nearly killed in a fire. It's not much more than an average person's though. Maybe a six or seven?

Adam: Definitely a 10. His ability allows him to take pain from others, so he's been in pain for much of his life.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Rhys: As much as he believes himself a runner, he is definitely more the type to freeze. It is very hard for him to react any other way.

Adam: He might not look like it, but Adam goes into fight. When it comes down to it, Adam is the type to run into danger rather than from it.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Rhys: It was mostly just him and his brother, Zach, growing up. Zach's friends welcomed Rhys into their group and acted more like a family than their parents ever did. He is a huge family person; it just happens to be more found family for him.

Adam: He is an only child. His parents constantly teeter between being overwhelmingly controlling and completely detached. Luckily for Adam, his aunt and uncle are happy to act as pseudo-parents. He would love to have a close family one day.

What animal represents them best?

Rhys: He is a raccoon on so many levels. For one, he is obsessed with finding his brother. Nothing will make him let go of this obsession, not even the knowledge that he's actively being hunted. He would also chew his own arm off if he was trapped. All in all, he just very much has raccoon vibes to me.

Adam: You would think he is a cat with how much time he spends with them. I think elephants represent him best, though. Elephants are highly empathetic. They are known to care for others and for their kindness. Adam is extremely empathetic, so it fits him well.

What is a smell they dislike?

Rhys: Smoke. It brings back very bad memories.

Adam: He can't stand the smell of alcohol anymore. He also doesn't like the smell of hospitals—not an easy thing to dislike as a nursing student.

Have they broken any bones?

Rhys: Sort of?

Adam: He hasn't broken a bone, but he has felt the pain of doing so when using his ability.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Rhys: He has been described by people in town as scarred, broody, mysterious, and by some as attractive—though it makes him uncomfortable to hear.

Adam: Everyone describes him as kind. The rest varies greatly depending on what context they meet him in.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Rhys: A morning person. He struggles to sleep a lot, but he is always up for his morning run with the sun or before it.

Adam: He is a bit more of a night owl, mostly just because he is definitely not a morning bird. The only reason he is ever up before eight is for a shift, a class, or because one of the animals needs pills/treatment/to be let out/etc.

What is a flavor they love and a flavor they hate?

Rhys: He loves spicy food and hates coffee and anything overwhelmingly sweet.

Adam: Pretty much the opposite: Adam loves sweets and hates anything too spicy.

Do they have any hobbies?

Rhys: Running, reading, hiking.

Adam: Acting, art, volunteering; does fostering animals count as a hobby?

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Rhys: Surprises are not a great idea for him. Once he settles down from the initial spook, he would be really touched and might tear-up a bit.

Adam: At this point, he would probably assume it's an intervention. He also doesn't handle surprises very well anymore, but he would definitely appreciate the effort.

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Rhys: This one depends on your definition of jewelry. And it's not so much like as much as it is that he has to.

Adam: He loves wearing jewelry! Rings, necklaces, earrings, he wears it all.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Rhys: He used to have decent handwriting, but he's probably a bit rusty since he hasn't done much writing in a few years outside of rushed notes.

Adam: His handwriting is downright illegible. He is decent at doodling though. For work, Marty wrote his name on his name tag, and Adam decorated it.

What are the two emotions they feel most?

Rhys: Fear and guilt.

Adam: Love and guilt.

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Rhys: He will wear pretty much anything that doesn't touch his skin too much.

Adam: He isn't super picky about fabric either, but he does love stolen clothes...

What kind of accent do they have?

Rhys: He might have some sort of European accent? Or something from a port city?

Adam: His accent would probably be some Midwestern (US) mix? (That's where I'm from, and everyone says I have a very thick accent, but I am imaging his more faintly.)

// I honestly have no idea; I usually leave this kind of thing up to whoever is reading it.

~

Here's the template:

What common/uncommon fears do they have? Do they have any pet peeves? What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? What do they notice first in a person? On a scale of 1 to 10 how high is their pain tolerance? Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? What animal represents them best? What is a smell they dislike? Have they broken any bones? How would a stranger likely describe them? Are they a night owl or a morning bird? What is a flavor they love and a flavor they hate? Do they have any hobbies? Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Do they like to wear jewelry? Do they have neat or messy handwriting? What are the two emotions they feel most? Do they have a favorite fabric? What kind of accent do they have?